the observations and musing of Leila Anasazi
Here’s one of the things that will keep my busy in my retirement: watching and enjoying the wildlife in my backyard.
You might not catch it at first glance, but in the photograph below, at the top, a mother raccoon is peeking out from between the tree trunks, encouraging her offspring below to climb the tree. The little one did not manage so well.
6:48 a.m. Northern Flicker outside my west window, Hairy Woodpecker outside the east window, and through the north window I can see a raccoon beneath the Western Cedar. (There is no south window.) It is already 54 degrees outside and the cast of the sky gives me hope that at this time tonight it will be plenty warm for al fresco dining.
My life is lush and I love it.
This morning the flickers are landing on the house roof. I’ve never seen that before; is it because of the owl feather?
This morning I found a feather on the ground. Wing feather, large, soft, “striped”.
I believe it is an owl feather. I’ve never seen an owl feather of this ilk–so large and “striped” as this is. But I recognize the velvet quality of an owl feather. And, when I saw it on the ground, pretty much it told me it was from an owl.
Some people believe that owls portend death. Like the “death” card in tarot, I believe that death is symbolic of endings. So it seems only right that I found this feather outside the door of the office which will very soon be my former place of employment.
However, I am not so inclined to view owls as symbols of death, as much as they are so many other things.
Some people want to know what will I be doing, once I “retire”–which at this point is 7 working days from now!
First, I have to mention that I like Michael Meade’s term for this new section of my life: ReFirement. And the playlist I have been working on for my “retirement” includes many songs that celebrate fire and new beginnings.
To my husband’s confusion, I have been spending a great deal of time thinking about this next part of my life. I have been working with Ellen Newhouse to sort through my feelings, fears, and exhilarations about not having a day-job anymore, and having so many hours of the day (and night) open up for me to do with them as I wish.
My dear husband thinks I ought to chill and let my new life unfold. I agree. But as I suddenly realized, I have too many options–so many options that I am overwhelmed. So, I am setting my sights clearly on some things that I want to do with my life, in the near future.
A few more focuses. Perhaps I will visit my brother and sister. Perhaps I’ll see my cousin. And there’s a pair of skates in the back of my closet that really miss me. Plus, fersure, a trek to Wesley and Wiktor’s naked pool party, in August.
I have a crush on the raccoons. The other night I saw the babies for the first time this season. I’d forgotten how immensely adorable they are, with their little tribble purrs, tiny Zorro masks, and a tendency to both stray from mom and cling to her.
We admittedly “encourage” the raccoons, as our friend, Hannah, puts it. We leave snacks for them, on the theory that it’s better for all of us if we voluntarily feed them rather than have them roaming the streets prowling garbage cans. And with the recent appearance of the obviously nursing female (we call her Jane), we’ve been certain to provide for her (and hers).
I have been keeping myself up too late at night, hoping Jane will bring her twins around again.
For awhile I’ve been coveting a certain set of glassware, that I’d seen in a catalog–because I have a particular fondness of sparkling wine, and actually had nothing in my (extensive) collection of glassware that I could use for bubbly on an informal basis.
I mean, check out this description lead-in: “Every flower is unique, as is every guest at your table … ” How can you resist?
Well, easy really. At over 100 bucks delivered, I just could not justify spending that much to indulge a certain dilettante pursuit.
But damn, I kept coming back to the image I’d seen in the catalog, so one day I Googled the product title, “Giardino Etched Glasses”, and several less expensive options popped up.
I plunged. And purchased a set from grounded: garden shop.
When the package arrived (mere days later) I was a little disappointed to find that my extravagance was MADE IN CHINA. I have been boycotting all things made in China, after hearing from friends the degree of pollution in that country. I was a little more disappointed to find one of the glasses with a defect that made it especially likely to tip and spill.
I steeled myself for a hassle, and secured the packaging and packing list, expecting I would have to return the entire lot to correct the defect.
But the customer service at grounded, it rocks. I called. Juli Risner confirmed which of the six different etchings was on my defective glass, and promised to ship a replacement straight away.
That was it, so simple.
The new glass was waiting for me this evening when I got home from work, all packaged in that nice, dissolving packing material, all of two business days later … sweet. (Although I suppose I should look into the possibility that those corn starch pellets are another faux “green” product.)
I’ll be good though, and not use this great customer service as an excuse to indulge some more :-)
Like, very, very illegal.
Driving with a dog on your lap.
Driving with no hands on the wheel.
Driving with your appointment book open on the steering wheel and both hands on the appointment book and a cell phone tucked between your ear and your shoulder.
Not to mention text messaging while doing 65 mph down I-5. For 15 minutes.
Okay, maybe all of that already is illegal. Maybe there should be a way such drivers can be forced to partake of an ACCIDENT simulator–like a flight simulator, but with breaking glass and blood.
Karma is usually quite subtle, but when it’s obvious it’s kinda fun to watch.
So I am tooling down 3rd Avenue when ahead on my left a speed demon in a little black sports car decides to turn onto 3rd Avenue from the side street. It’s not like there was heavy traffic and dicey maneveurs were requisite, but Speed Demon floors it and makes a hard left turn, bouncing up onto the curb in the process and then continuing to barrel down the street.
From behind, I can see what looks to be a wheel go flying off the car and bounce along the grass for a moment, by which point I was near enough to see that it was a hubcub, of a large, fancy (expensive) kind.
I considered the options; how might I alert the driver of the remnant left behind. But soon it was clear that I need not concern myself, as Speed Demon continued to barrel down the street and around another corner, and was so far ahead that only if I doubled my speed could my then own reckless driving would ever unite us.
The hubcab lays there now in the grass. Oh well.