Some things just don't dawn on us until we suddenly are presented with indisputable proof. When someone seems to not realize how disturbing a situation can be to others, it may take a bit to get to the point that we don't really think that person is simply ignoring our feelings or the depth of the disturbance caused by the situation. Yours truly is probably just as guilty as anyone around because of not recognizing other folks' feelings or their reactions. Just because the situation might have been within my experience--and within my abilities to handle it to some degree--does not mean that others are as capable of dealing with a similar situation. Some folks do not even have a clue what a panic attack can be. Some other folks can't realize how totally distressing it might be to be rejected by one's family. Experience with panic attacks is definitely on an individual basis. So, too, is rejection by one's family. A fellow known to me has a tendency to--in my estimation--whine about the fact that his former wife and daughter have totally shut him out from their lives. But he is remarried to a very sweet woman. It seems to me that it is not fair for her to have to constantly listen to his complaints, but then, being rejected by my family did not have the same effect on me as it has had on him. Whether or not anyone understands the effect of a panic attack or the rejection from someone one once loved is a truly individual thing. No sense judging.
Then there is my friend who wanted to know: Is it BUTT naked or BUCK naked? Now Miriam Webster says that BUCK is older, but let's face it, both mean plum disrobed and otherwise uncovered by clothing. The way my dogs shed around this house, it is a wonder that they have any hair left on their bodies. Getting all the hair out of this house--including the dust bunnies--would leave me with naked floors. So, stirring the hair underneath the furniture and behind the stoves and beds would leave my house BUTT naked. But that is NOT to say that the house would be any the cleaner for the hair removal. sigh So, Robin Christian, let's just say we might have to leave it to the imagination of the beholder.
The freaking wind is determined to blow every direction all at the same time. Went to Sutherland's and bought another jug of Home Defense bug zapping stuff to do inside and outside the perimeter of the house. Also bought a jug of the stuff to kill weeds. Yes, know that it terribly horrible for the environment, but so are wildfires. If the fence lines are cleaned out both by spray and weed whackers, the likelihood of a wild fire is reduced somewhat. But trying to spray with this wind whipping in circles and swoops is impossible. Will try to wait until it is either blowing only one direction or has died down enough to prevent the spray from going all over heck and half of Georgia.
Woke up early again. Wondering if this is an old age thing or what. When Lewis was working, 5:30 every morning saw me in the kitchen making coffee and preparing his breakfast and filling his lunch bucket. After he retired, it was more difficult to make myself stay in bed just a bit longer. But now, well, not sure if it is the birds outside the window or what, but 6:15 is about as late as the old woman can stay in bed. Of course, if the sun has lightened the sky, the hens are more than ready to come out of their coops. Guess that is as good a reason as any to get up early.
Have been noticing that Thompson is not as energetic as he was even a few months ago. Surely hoping that he is not on the downhill slide. Love that ol' dog! He is about the sweetest creature around. His predecessor, Harley B, was super sweet as well, but Thompson is also my protector. Simply can't imagine him not being around to love on. Sylvia is sweet, but she has a stubborn streak as fast and ornery as she is. She has never, ever learned to come when called the first time. She hears me; she just ignores me. Had a couple of kids that would have been that way except they knew better! And they were the sweetest kids that ever lived. sigh
Lance and Tracy's kids got their second Covid shot yesterday. Tracy texted that so far they seem to be ok. Not everyone has a reaction, thank goodness. Think some of the family felt as if they had been hit by a bay mule and then stomped on just a bit. That is how the stupid regular flu shot affected me last year. Think that is going to be the last one of those unless something strange happens--something REALLY strange!
Looking at some of the pictures on this bird calendar given to me by Michelle Malay. The Cactus Wren and the Victoria-Crowned Pigeon are both noteworthy. Can't see how those little wrens can stand on cactus thorns and never be hurt. Guess that is one of the reasons they can make nests in the cacti and not lose a fledgling. The pigeons are such a pretty blue that it makes me wonder if the feathers were ever used back in the day to put on top of hats. Many birds gave their lives to fashion at one point.
Speaking of blue and birds: Thompson is a deadly dove bomber. And recently he killed a dove that had a blue patch under its eyes. Had never seen a dove--or any bird--like that. Yes, there is a dove with red eyes and a blue ring around the eyes, but this was an entire patch of blue that looked much like eye shadow that a woman would wear below the eye. Looked online, but found nothing comparable.
This wind is supposedly 22 to 23 mph out of the south. Right. Really wish it were not so expensive to get one of those anemometers to measure wind. They have hand held ones, but not sure just how accurate one would be. The kind that are put on poles would be more accurate for the currents of wind swooshing up this hill off the lake. If it were mounted on top of the roof--well, when the rood blows off, it is likely going to be a pretty stiff breeze, huh.
A few more days of this dry wind should start drying out the flower seeds on the plants. It will take days to gather all of them and separate them into bags--with or without the hulls. But then someone can enjoy sharing the flowers next year. Think the flowers in the walkway are going to come up entirely. Love the smell and the beauty, but it really is hard to walk up that way. Got tickled at Donny Anderson mowing AROUND the bluebonnet that came up on his right away. He won't admit that he enjoys the flowers as much as anyone. Don't think Patty cares too much for flowers. Oh well. Takes all kinds.
Finished five books in a series and still wish there were another one. Will have to check and see if this guy has written any others. Sometimes it just takes a certain kind of book to be easy reading. Especially if the humor is just a bit Irish and blunt! Think my grandsons would find these amusing.
Ok, the cousin's wife who had the aneurysm has had that surgery, and it is repaired. They decided not to take the kidney as it was just a bit much for one time. Not sure if that will be done later or not. Just pray, please, that Sharron Dickerson--not the one called my sister-by-another mother--will heal completely from this procedure. It is hard to become a widow and have to go through hard stuff without one's husband. Many of us have been there and done that, but it does not get any easier.
Let us appreciate the many blessings. Remember your mother, your parents, and the family that loves you. Rest and awake with joy and good humor. You are loved.
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