Over the weekend while I was away, baby Robins Hatched from the eggs from the nest that was sitting on top of the outside lantern. I’m pretty thrilled! It’s fun to see mother nature so close, in all its simple glory. In the top photo you can see one of the baby birds sticking it’s neck out, waiting for food. The mama Robin is darting back and forth frantically trying to keep up with feeding them
I’m glad for the simple pleasure of watching them. Someday soon the babies will fly off. For now, I’m enjoy the moment.
Today I decided to take my “good” camera to be fixed, which had broken pre- pandemic. I had waited for a while for the repair place to be open, and on Monday, I discovered it wouldn’t be open until Wednesday. It is a good camera, and takes beautiful pictures. I had first used it on a trip to Africa when I volunteered there after retiring from teaching. I used a gift card from my colleagues to buy it. It was a sweet gift. On many levels, the camera is worth getting fixed. I drove to Latham where the shop was located, only to discover that the store had moved to Watervliet. Fine. I called the shop to make sure it was open. It was, and the man was pleasant. He remarked that “everything is going to hell anyway”. I laughed and agreed that the times were crazy with all this pandemic stuff.
I finally got to the repair shop, and left the camera to be repaired. Apparently, the card reader needs to be fixed. I remarked that I thought the back roads were kind of fun. The man said “yes I like these little towns.” I agreed, and said I could just picture a family barbecue at one of the houses.
My GPS took me the back way to Watervliet. I rather enjoyed the journey, taking me through Cohoes and Watervliet. I noticed that the old armory, built in the 1800s, had been beautifully painted and restored. It looked like it had been turned into apartments; one window on the very upper floor had a pretty lace curtain.
On the way through Watervliet, my Irish eyes had spotted an Irish pub, and I thought maybe I could wet my whistle. It looked like a decent place it had a sign on the door requesting that
“Gentlemen not Wear tank tops”. Hmm, I thought how quaint. There was noone in the place, and noone at the bar. I went to the kitchen, and asked if someone could come to the bar.
A gentleman appeared, I asked for a glass of water, and a half pint of Guinness. He was kind enough to warn me about the approaching rainstorm. I said that I would have it outside, and then be on my merry way.
I could have been a grumpy Gus, and been upset that I had to go a few extra miles to the repair shop. But, I thought I was lucky to see some different scenery and meet some decent folks. The leprechauns were with me.. The place did look like a pub in Ireland. And, I made it back through the rainstorm, in time to take my dog Trixie for a walk and to smell the lilacs.
I think the experiences have been embellished because I have had both Covid vaccines. I feel more freedom to go on hikes unmasked. I now can visit with family more easily, and that is a reason in itself to rejoice.
I’ve been lucky to be able to go on hikes with my hiking group as well as some friends lately. The wildflowers at this time of year are exquisite and the weather has been glorious.
On one hike, my friend pointed out the Mayapple, which has umbrella like leaves. The flowers are white, but they haven’t come out yet. The leaves are quite beautiful and I can imagine the fairies dancing underneath them.
I’m thankful for each day, for nature and that I can celebrate that we’ve come through Covid. Things are starting to come back. Can you dig it?
I have a Robin’s nest on my outside light door. She built it on the light because I guess she thought it was a good spot, out of harm’s way. Not the ideal spot for me, but I don’t mind so much. I’m glad that it’s there. Every time I try to get a photo of her on the nest up close, she flies away. I’ve been going out the garage door so as to disturb her as little as possible.
I’m so glad she’s there. The robin and her nest reminds me of the continuity of life, and how some things don’t change. I can’t wait until the babies hatch.
Today was a dreary, rainy day. I found myself focusing on the negative, rather than the positive. I waited for a service man to come all day. Turns out he did come but no one from the company told me he had come. ( I hadn’t heard him it was an outside job). Then he didn’t do the job right. So, I decided to do it myself ( Just like the little red hen when she made the bread herself after planting the wheat, growing the wheat and then ate the bread HERSELF). Then, a friend told me she didn’t want to go on a trip out west that I had so looked forward to after a year in Covid, isolated. At least now now But I understood. I am thinking a lot about making changes, big decisions.
All of these things seem kind of trivial, putting it in perspective. I’m here, my beloved family is here, my dear friends are here. Covid took none of us. Many people are grieving. Things are starting to open up . I can find solutions, I can go on another trip or find someone else to go with. I have strong faith in a spiritual presence. That’s all good.
Like the daffodils, I will survive the rain and start a new day. They’re still here, and so am I. I hope that after the rain, we can all see the rainbow. And like the little red hen, I will do it myself.
This past weekend, it was my birthday as well as Passover. It was really special, because my children and Grandbabies came to visit. It was a joyous occasion, as we’ve been vaccinated, and could hug. Me hugging my Grandbabies. That’s the best thing! And of course, hugging my kids! We made a beautiful big fire in the fire pit outside, and enjoyed each moment. We had a lovely seder at night, a shortened version for the little ones.
The next day, we celebrated my birthday with a cake, and gifts. But, the greatest gift was being with my family. How sweet it is!!
I feel very fortunate to get my second vaccine for protection against the Covid virus. I feel a sense of relief and hope. Hopeful that I can now spend precious time with my sons and daughter and Grandbabies, and with friends as well. There is still a need to be cautious and wear a mask. But now we’re on to new trails and beginnings. I am looking forward to everyone having that sense of hope on the horizon. May it be so.
A few weeks ago, Joseph Biden was sworn into office as our new president. I breathed a sigh of relief. I am hopeful that things will get better. I am even more hopeful because Kamala Harris is our new vice president. On the night of the inauguration, I had a Zoom sing with some other women. It was celebratory. One of the songs we sang was a song based on a poem by Emily Dickinson. “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul. And sings the tune without the words And never stops at all”. May we all have hope, and sing our own tune without the words.
On Wednesday, as we are aware, our Capitol was under siege. Protesters, encouraged by the President stormed through, using violence and literally taking over. As the events unfolded, many of us were in disbelief, glued to our televisions, watching stunned and heartbroken. Some people were killed.
Finally, the National Guard was called and the protesters began to leave.
At the time it began, I was snowshoeing in the Adirondacks. When I came home, my daughter texted me, and as soon as I heard, I turned on the television. The images were crazy, and so sad.
While I am deeply saddened and continue to try to process this chain of events, I am heartened that Congress was able to count the votes, and the Democratic Process prevailed. President Elect Biden was certified as our next President. As we grieve, we can breathe, and hope for a better tomorrow.
During the pandemic, I have been walking a lot. Sometimes with a friend, sometimes by myself. Always somewhere in nature by streams and in the woods. There is a great comfort in the rhythm and beauty and the familarity of the paths we take. We will get through this, and see the light at the end of the tunnel.