Life & Death on the Pond
I've been trying to keep a nice school of goldfish in the pond at the flatlands house we are selling. But, they keep disappearing and I keep going back to PetSmart for another dozen ($0.26 each). "What are you doing? Using them as feeders?" I assure them that I'm not doing so on purpose.
Yet, it seems I am. Just this morning I'm looking at the pond through a bedroom window and here comes a raptor with a wingspan of about three feet tip-to-tip. It lights on a tree limb above the pond, waiting for the fish to come out of hiding. I look at it. It looks at me. It looks at the pond. Everyone -- fish, bird, man -- is playing a waiting game. When I finally go for my camera, it's gone when I return.
I'm not certain exactly what kind of raptor it is, but it looks a great deal like an immature bald eagle. Owl, hawk or eagle, it sure likes a nice snack of goldfish from time to time!
Speaking of the pond, I stopped by the "For Sale" sign this morning while retrieving the garbage bin from the curb and looked at the realtor's description of the property for the first time. There are things about the place that even I didn't know. The goldfish pond, for example, is a "pond with stacked stone accents ideal for koi". I bathe each morning in a "jetted garden tub". The dining area "lets the outside in". Our "main floor master suite has a HUGE walk-in closet, dressing room and update bathroom" including, of course, that "jetted garden tub". "Gourmet kitchen." After reading the description, I was tempted to call the realtor and buy it myself!
My favorite part of the description reads "Brick pavers walkway leads to world famous BBQ cooker!" That, of course, would be my beloved Wilber D. Hog brick barbecue pit. I sure will hate to leave the old boy but, built with 1000+ bricks, Wilber is unfortunately just too big to travel.
"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorry."
As an integral part of my house husbandry, I've just finished dusting this morning. I'm still not on a regular schedule with those chores and am still not convinced that is the way to go. Why dust when you don't need to dust? The CFO will let me know when it's time; she can actually see the dust. Wash the clothes when the hamper gets full or you are wearing your last pair of underwear from the dresser drawer. No need to panic. Hey, why have a schedule when none is needed? Housekeeping is like the seasons of the year. You will know when it's time to do something without the need for looking at a calendar or a clock. Schedules and the right brain are natural enemies. Go with the flow, I say.
And, of course, a time to clean the toilets!
Gotta run.
I have that sinking feeling that it's time.
Yet, it seems I am. Just this morning I'm looking at the pond through a bedroom window and here comes a raptor with a wingspan of about three feet tip-to-tip. It lights on a tree limb above the pond, waiting for the fish to come out of hiding. I look at it. It looks at me. It looks at the pond. Everyone -- fish, bird, man -- is playing a waiting game. When I finally go for my camera, it's gone when I return.
I'm not certain exactly what kind of raptor it is, but it looks a great deal like an immature bald eagle. Owl, hawk or eagle, it sure likes a nice snack of goldfish from time to time!
Speaking of the pond, I stopped by the "For Sale" sign this morning while retrieving the garbage bin from the curb and looked at the realtor's description of the property for the first time. There are things about the place that even I didn't know. The goldfish pond, for example, is a "pond with stacked stone accents ideal for koi". I bathe each morning in a "jetted garden tub". The dining area "lets the outside in". Our "main floor master suite has a HUGE walk-in closet, dressing room and update bathroom" including, of course, that "jetted garden tub". "Gourmet kitchen." After reading the description, I was tempted to call the realtor and buy it myself!
My favorite part of the description reads "Brick pavers walkway leads to world famous BBQ cooker!" That, of course, would be my beloved Wilber D. Hog brick barbecue pit. I sure will hate to leave the old boy but, built with 1000+ bricks, Wilber is unfortunately just too big to travel.
"Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorry."
As an integral part of my house husbandry, I've just finished dusting this morning. I'm still not on a regular schedule with those chores and am still not convinced that is the way to go. Why dust when you don't need to dust? The CFO will let me know when it's time; she can actually see the dust. Wash the clothes when the hamper gets full or you are wearing your last pair of underwear from the dresser drawer. No need to panic. Hey, why have a schedule when none is needed? Housekeeping is like the seasons of the year. You will know when it's time to do something without the need for looking at a calendar or a clock. Schedules and the right brain are natural enemies. Go with the flow, I say.
To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under the sun.
A time to be born and a time to die;
A time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill and a time to heal ...
A time to weep and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn and a time to dance ...
A time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to lose and a time to seek;
A time to rend and a time to sew;
A time to keep silent and a time to speak;
A time to love and a time to hate;
A time for war and a time for peace.
(Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)
And, of course, a time to clean the toilets!
Gotta run.
I have that sinking feeling that it's time.
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