As much as I love the coloring of female cardinals, I have to admit the Christmas red of the males is pretty spectacular.
Merry Christmas everybody.
Christmas red
Junco smiles
There are some little birds around here that only visit me in the winter. They spend their summers further north and when I see them hanging out here for the first time each fall I usually feel a slight twinge of sadness.
Their arrival at my feeders are one of the first signs that fall is slipping into winter.
For whatever reason this year there seem to be a lot more than usual, and I’ve been enjoying them hopping around looking adorable.
They are such poofy, round little birds. The males are dark grey and the females are a bit more grey brown. But honestly it’s pretty hard for me to tell them apart. I think all these images are males. And you can tell they are juncos by the pinkish beaks they all sport.
This year instead of resenting their arrival I’ve been enjoying their antics. I hope you’ve enjoyed seeing them too, even if only in this post.
Merry Christmas everyone. May you all have a peaceful holiday.
Remembering
William H. Badger. February 4th, 1929 – December 23, 2004.
A heavy morning
I haven’t been watching the news. I had a busy week and weekend, including our community band holiday concert just yesterday afternoon. So last night when my husband told me about Brown University’s mass shooting and then we began hearing about the Australian mass shooting I was horrified. And when I turned on the news this morning in order to learn more about those events I was even more sad to see the story about Rob Reiner and his wife Michele.
It’s a lot, isn’t it, so much horrific news in just a few days. It’s hard to pile the sadness of each news story on top of the sadness already carried about the news story before. It seems there is so little good news anymore. Though I know that’s not true.
I remember being a student at the University of Michigan when the Virginia Tech mass shooting happened. And how, ever after that (and I should have felt this way before, after all Virginia Tech was not the first) I would plan where I’d go if a shooter entered a classroom I was in.
Today I listened to a Brown University graduate student describe seeing the gunman enter the lecture hall in which he was studying. How he texted his love to his family, how he held the hand of another student who had been shot. My eyes filmed over with tears. Two students dead, nine injured.
Today I watched the footage of hundreds of people fleeing a beach in Australia, people who had been there celebrating the first day of Hanukkha. The Jewish menorah represents light and hope but it’s hard to process that in a world full of hate. At least fifteen people dead and dozens injured.
Today I heard the news about Rob Reiner and his wife Michele, found stabbed to death in their California home yesterday afternoon. I sort of met them in St. Mark’s Square in Venice back in 2006 when Mrs. Reiner asked me to take a family picture of the four of them. I didn’t know who they were until after when my husband told me. But that’s another story. So many classic lines from movies he directed that we use regularly. “I’ll have what she’s having.” “You can’t handle the truth.” “Have fun storming the castle.” (A favorite of my family.) Such a loss.
Today I learned of the three US service members killed in Syria. I know there are people being killed all over the world. Gaza. Ukraine. Haiti. Somalia. And more, so many more. Still, US service members killed by terrorists leaves a special and deep hurt on our hearts.
It’s hard not to feel such a hopeless, heavy sadness in the midst of so much hate. Maybe it’s always been this way. I suppose it has. But for years now we’ve been seeing it in high definition color and it takes a toll. And not watching the news only means that when you do turn it on you’re overwhelmed by it all.
But also this morning, on the news, I heard a part of the 2025 Heisman Trophy winner, Indiana’s quarterback Fernando Mendoza’s, speach. He addressed his mother, remembering her lessons as he was growing up. ““You taught me that toughness doesn’t need to be loud, it can be quiet and strong.” And that, right there, gave me hope and a smile.
I’m turning the TV off now, on that smile. If you’re feeling heavy, too, I send you a virtual hug. A real one if you’re close by. Let’s process the bad news, and look for the good. It’s the only way to get through these days.
The one no one notices
Some birds get all the attention. You know the ones. They’ve got beautiful bright feathers and they like to show off.
But I’ve been watching Mrs. Cardinal as she frequents my birdfeeders. Her subtle coloring is as beautiful as the flashy feathers of her mate. She’s a quiet beauty.
For the past couple of days there have been several female cardinals at the feeders, in the branches of the protective honeysuckle bush, and hiding among the last leaves of the beech tree.
I notice how beautiful she is glowing in the light. whether it’s the early morning slanted sunrise or during an afternoon snow storm. She’s modest, though, and won’t sit and pose for long.
You have to be satisfied with her brief appearances and wait, hopefull, for your next glimpse.
I noticed Mr. Cardinal watching her too. He seemed as smitten as me.
It’s my birthday and I’ll nap if I want to
Penny here, Happy Birthday to me! Today I turn the big THREE, and mom says she doesn’t know how that could have happened already. She says I don’t act a day over one. Maybe one and a half.
I like to keep my girlish ways, you know?
Mom says now that I’m beyond my terrible twos I’m supposed to settle down. Don’t tell her but I’m planning on going into my tasmanian threes.
Starting today.
Anyway, I had a very good year, and I can’t wait to find out what I’m going to do next!
Meanwhile today I will be expecting cake and ice cream with candles and gifts wrapped in pretty paper.
Or extra kibble for dinner. I’m good either way.
See you all later, your birthday girl, Penny.
Giving Tuesday is here!
It’s always hard to ask for money. But when your passion for the cause overrides your reticence you just have to squish down those scary thoughts and do it.
So I am.
There are lots and lots of families out there going through unimaginable pain. But I can imagine it, because my family is one of them. When dad was killed December 23rd, 2004 our lives shattered. We’ve patched things back together over the 20 years but you can still see, and always will see, the mended cracks.
Other families out there need support and advice and shoring up. Also hugs. The hugs we can give for free but the rest takes money. So I’m asking you to donate today, Giving Tuesday. Please give with heart, give with love.
Here’s the link to donate directly to the Truck Safety Coalition: https://secure.qgiv.com/for/iwbwhq/
We promise to forward your love on to shattered families. Help us help them to begin to heal.
Thank you.
Happy Thanksgiving
This morning as I’ve been fixing the big dinner I’ve been watching my birds out the window and my Penny-girl napping inside and feeling grateful that I’m in my warm house looking out at a windy cold yard. It’s 32F here (0 C) and it feels, because of the wind, like 19F (-7.22C).
I know the birds watch me as I fill the feeders every morning. Every day, before I’m back in the house they’re usually fluttering around picking at their favorite spot. This morning I somehow missed the goldfinch feeder and as I was walking to the shower later I noticed a big bunch of them all huddled around the very bottom of their feeder.
That’s all the seed there was left, just a bit at the very bottom.
I thought about going out and filling it after my shower. But they were hungry now. So I ran out without a coat and hurridely filled their feeder with thistle. Then I went inside to watch. No finches. I waited some more. One finch dropped down onto the beech tree, contemplated the feeder swaying in the wind.
“Come on little guy,” I murmered, “it’s right there for you, all fresh and nice.” He waivered and clung to his branch. “Come on sweetie, I whispered.” He tentatively flew to the top of the hook and looked around. Then he hopped down to the feeder and began to greedly eat. Suddenly finches came from all over, and swarmed the feeder.
I smiled.
Happy Thanksgiving little ones. Happy Thanksgiving.
And happy Thanksgiving to all of you. We hope you have a wonderful, warm and belly-filling day. Penny added that last bit about the belly. She has her priorities.
Change Is Hard 