Tuesday, October 22, 2013
When you have a charity, you're ALWAYS looking for a way to find funds. We have an opportunity through a voting process and we need YOUR help!
Citgo, (a U.S. Oil/Gas Company) has an annual "Fueling Good" project which awards 9 U.S. non-profits with a $5,000 gas card to aid with their work. Granted it's open to about half the U.S., but there will be 3 cards awarded in my neck of the woods. The winners are determined by public vote...and no, nothing says the public has to live in our area. It's simple as 1-2-3.
1. Sign in with an e-mail address
2. Create a password
3. Log in and VOTE. You may vote once a day until Dec. 21st.
If you think it's worth your time (and I'm hoping you do...I'd get on my knees but then you wouldn't be able to see me), please visit one of the following links and vote for Crossroads Wounded Warrior Archery Foundation. Thanks!
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Yet more proof that, in the country, Morning Glories will climb almost anything.
The variety of colors is remarkable.
Click on the photos to see how brilliant they are.
Click on the photos to see how brilliant they are.
And this one looks like it has a light bulb inside!
High up on his morning perch upon the peak of the house is
Walter, the Grumpy Security Guard Mockingbird.
Upon seeing me taking his photo without permission,
he glared and flew off across the yard.
His newest trick?
He's learned to mimic the sound of the driveway sensor
that lets Hubby know customers have arrived at the Shop.
And Bou, who loves to race the golf cart down the driveway to get the morning paper
(remember, our driveway is almost a quarter mile long)
is insisting I put down the camera so he can run.
A passerby might hear harsh, repetitive barks.
I just hear, "Go! Go! Go!"
Go on and have a great week!
Friday, October 18, 2013
Friday, October 11, 2013
Saturday, October 5, 2013
Shoes empty of sand.
(If you're confused, see prior post)
Celebrating Fall, I just cut off about 5" of hair, putting me back to shoulder length. My beautician is co-owner of the local Beauty School, so my baby fine hair will become an experiment for her students learning to color and perm. She teases I'm the only customer who grows long hair in the summer and chops it in the autumn. Like my Grandma, I need to keep it OFF my neck in warm months. It's October, I figured now it was safe.
Today, Mother Nature is having a Hot Flash. The high will reach 90 degrees. (32C)
So on my drive to and fro today, I focused on finding the positive. Or at least the interesting. If only I'd had my camera with me. I saw:
A Buzzard sunning on the remains of an old pine tree, bare of bark.
Seated on top, he looked like part of an ancient totem pole.
In front of a country church was a lovely display of Yellow and Orange Mums,
along with a dancing Purple Ghost.
(The kind kept in motion by a motor pumping air in them...think Used Car Lots).
It was so weird my first thought was, "In front of a church? It's purple.
Does that make it a holy ghost?"
(Sorry, my sense of humor makes odd connections during pollen season).
Later, coming out of a big box store I was walking through the garden section when I saw a little yellow finch hopping oddly. A second glance made me realize he was tangled in the weeds trailing behind him. I looked around, wondering why no one was stopping to do something.
That's when my conscience replied, "And what's wrong with you?"
Nothing like internal nagging as a call to action. Now I'll be the first to admit that when the occasional Chimney Swift gets in the house, I have no problem paging Hubby to deal with it. I'm not big on flapping wings and sharp beaks, plus I know he'll be able to catch and release without harming it. But this finch was so little, I felt a kinship. I know how it feels to be pushed around in the rush of the world, with everyone too busy going by to notice if something isn't right.
So, softy that I am, I pushed my cart to one side and tentatively stepped on the trail of weeds and string to see how Mr. Finch would react. He was so tired, he just stood there, blinking. There was no way to free him without holding on to him so as gently as possible, I wrapped my hand around him, cradling him the way Hubby holds those wayward birds he's about to release, even though they want to live in the house.
Without thinking, I began talking softly to Mr. Finch, as if he understood me babbling about how he was safe and I wouldn't hurt him. It took a couple of minutes to untangle the mess he'd gotten himself into, but it seems that having small fingers made the job easier. That's when I noticed two things: never once did he wiggle or try to flee once I started working to free him. And for once in my life, I truly didn't care what anyone passing by might've thought.
When his tiny foot was free (and honestly, I was afraid I might break it as it was so small!), I gently set him down on top of some purple mums, took a step back and held my breath. He looked at me for a moment, realized he truly was free and off he flew like a shot. You couldn't have pried that stupid grin off my face on the way home.
Sometimes you wonder when you set things in motion if they'll have a good result or if anyone will even notice. Yesterday I posted this on our Charity site.
Somehow it's comforting to have life acknowledge
that the simplest things make a difference...
even if it's only freeing a little bird.
Suddenly, that sand doesn't seem so annoying anymore.