summer Days

I woke up around 6, with the sky getting bright and the birds singing. Neither Ray nor I have anything on the schedule today. It is not official summer, according to the calendar. In Georgia, though, it's the early days of summer, when it is pleasantly warm in the morning. I don't put on a bathrobe when I get up. All the windows are open, trying to capture as much "cool" as we can for later in the day.

Yesterday, we took Molli to the shuttle for the Atlanta airport. We debated back and forth about driving her instead. We would have had a few more hours together and she wouldn't have had to leave quite so early. It was definitely the right thing to do from an environmental standpoint, though. The clincher was the certificate I had bought from a literacy fund-raiser last August (beating out another bid at the last minute). Unfortunately, when Molli made the reservation, they told her that manager doesn't work for Groome anymore. I showed them the letter yesterday morning, but they insisted I pay in the meantime, until they could consult with the manager, Jeremy Jones. The employee did not seem to understand the letter or even the concept of a fund-raising donation...somewhat frustrating, but not worth losing my cool over.

Back at home, I made a mocha chocolate cake with the last of the coffee. Coffee is one thing we have when Molli's around, but not when it's just the two of us. We took a walk and I spent a little time in the garden. The rain the day before meant that the ground was very soft, good for pulling out weeds. It began to get pretty hot and humid by about 10:30 and I mostly just sat and watched the chickens. They run back and forth in the run, chasing each other somewhat in fun, but also to determine and enforce the pecking order. Gladys, our old hen, has been broody. When I open the nest box to look at her, she glares at me. Chickens do not have a lot of facial expression, but she certainly seems very angry. I lured her down from the nest box with some wormy hazelnuts I have. She likes them so much, she makes little purring noises (like Molli did when she was little and enjoyed what she was eating). We let her into the run with the young chickens and she stalked like a battleship, all puffed up. She looked like a turkey. They avoided her and she squawked loudly, letting them know she was in charge. She attacked one of them and drew feathers (yellow legs), so we separated them again. Eventually, she returned to the nesting box for the day.

The pleasure of having new chicks is tempered with worry. Our neighbors have had predators attack chickens, especially raccoons, and I am afraid for these little ones. I am anxious to have them move into the "new" more secure coop with Gladys, as soon as I can trust her not to hurt them. The new coop is made of hardware cloth, sturdier than chicken wire. These things can't be rushed. I think Cameron (the dog) is good protection. We often are annoyed by his barking in the night, but I try to remind myself that he may be keeping something away, like a raccoon on the prowl.

I went to lunch at Lee Anderson's house. She is over 80 and lives with her daughter. They have a lovely traditional home, with a giant screened porch on the back. It has a cathedral ceiling and the view of an extra large bird feeder. There were two tables set and plenty of room left over. Linen tablecloths and monogrammed silver harked back to an earlier time. I am very fond of Lee, but speaking to her requires a conscious effort, since she doesn't hear well. There were 6 of us from our Small Group and this was our farewell event of the year. We chatted about light subjects, for the most part, and enjoyed the food the group had brought (including my mocha cake). Linda and I had two pieces. It was delicious and light. I felt bad leaving Lee with that many dishes. I hope she didn't get exhausted. She pooh-poohed my offer of help, but we did clear them.

That was the most strenuous part of my day. I looked for chard recipes for supper and went through some old papers. Ray had a nap. When it was cool enough, I went out again after supper, waiting to close the run off after the chickens had settled in the coop. It was almost 9 before they were all calmed down.

We watched Wheel of Fortune and Leverage and Doc Martin and slept well.

Happy Memorial Day!

Molli is leaving after a great, but short, visit. I am so sad, I actually cried last night, I am embarrassed to say. I haven't cried much lately--except maybe when I am reading a news article or moving part of a book. There is so much more I would like to do with her. I enjoy her company and her help and her thoughts. I am very lucky. I will see her again and talk to her many times. I am so proud of who she is and what she has accomplished, and her goals. 

She and her sister bought me chickens--5 Buff Orpingtons. They are too young to lay, and one or more may be roosters. They are fun to watch. I had been wanting some for awhile, but hadn't been able to find any. Most are sold as baby chicks, requiring a level of care I did not want to invest. My one remaining hen, Gladys, has stopped laying. She is broody, which means she sits in the nest box trying to hatch eggs. I suppose she was lonely and her instincts told her to raise some babies, but of course, she would need a rooster for that. She glares at me if I open the door. Yesterday Ray got her out for a few minutes and she squawked horribly a few times, terrifying the babies (well, they're probably more like teenagers, 3 or 4 months old). 

I could have ordered chickens this age, but the shipping is prohibitive. I had been asking around, but no one had any for sale. I had even answered a craigslist ad, but gotten no reply. Molli and Amelia told me they wanted to get me some for Mothers' Day. They read several ads and they called the lady who sold us ours a few years ago. Unfortunately, her husband died and she has stopped raising chickens, at least for now. She gave Molli another name, but she didn't have any Orpingtons (and she is in Washington, Ga--about 50 miles from here). 

She corresponded by text with some people in Winterville and we met them in the parking lot of the Golden Pantry convenience store. They had 5 in a pet carrier--lovely young bronze chickens. They told her that 2 of them are definitely hens and they wanted $20 for the bunch, so we took them all. Not sure what we will do with any (or all) of them that turn out to be roosters...We spent lots of time watching them yesterday, learning to tell them apart, wincing when they attacked the smallest one. We have named him Zephyr and are already inappropriately attached. We suspect he is a rooster, as well as one other, but won't know for sure until they start crowing. Not interested in learning how to sex chickens, although apparently I would be much in demand if I did. 

 

Our coop is complicated. Gladys lives in the "new', more secure coop. I would not put young chickens in with her, especially now that she's so grumpy. They are in the old coop. The two are attached by a run and we can open and close the doors to the run so they don't meet each other until we think they are ready. Gladys certainly has not shown any interest yet. In fact, she seems even more angry, if possible. The young ones are curious and hungry, exploring everything. They are also pooping a lot. They love being in the tractor and having grass to eat under their feet. They were fighting over a wasp and eating other insects they could catch or dig up. 

Other than that, we have had several busy days. Molli has met friends. We went to the service yesterday and stayed for the 4th Sunday lunch. We brought a big salad we had put together before we went. Other than that, none of us had any responsibilities during the service. The choir wasn't singing, Ray wasn't doing sound. It was quite pleasant. We also did a little shopping. We have a shower to go to next weekend and Molli helped me pick out what to put in my "dining room basket." I never attended a basket shower before. 

The best thing that happened yesterday is there was a thunderstorm. It started slowly and I tried to get the chicks in the coop so I could close the door. I got soaked. They huddled under the peach tree and did not go in. Eventually, I gave up. Cameron the dog was terrified. We let him in the house and he lay in the kitchen (where he was in the way), with his nose under the cabinets. The garden was dry and needed the rain, so I am looking forward to working out there today. The weeds are much easier to pull after a good soaking. Ray and Molli got the chickens into the coop after it stopped and closed the door. I made chicken for supper, which is a little weird, but we managed to eat it. We watched Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy while Molli packed. I fell asleep during Big Bang Theory, which means I was pretty tired. 

The sound of the surf makes me smile

I said I wanted to be able to see the ocean from our condo, but maybe hearing it is even more important. Like yesterday morning, the early sun is streaming in on me and the waves are crashing on the shore. Soon, I will wander down to admire them first-hand, but what a great way to wake up. As usual, everyone else is asleep. I just barely caught the sunrise myself. Perhaps I am getting used to the birds' noise. No, I think it was the fact that it was so cool last night, we closed all the windows. 

So far, no bad sunburns. 

Yesterday was boys' day. Of course, it didn't start very early and involved lots of sitting around talking and even time spent on electronic devices. We played tennis (6 of us) really badly, which was amusing and probably good exercise. We ate lunch, a variety of leftovers and some sandwiches. Most of us went to the pool, which is a long walk from here, but not far enough to drive. Nicky went to the gym. His insurance, amazingly, pays for him to get in many gyms and he has been regularly working out. Yesterday was leg day. Those who went in the ocean said he probably would have gotten enough exercise that way, since the wind and waves were strong. The pool was actually a little too cool for Amelia and me, at least without the air being hotter. Kevin went in, though. We spent some time reading or just talking..and then headed back to the condo. Nicky also stopped at the grocery store, thankfully, since we were about out of toilet paper (of course). 

After some showering and dressing, we drove off in two cars to find the mini golf. Apparently, it is closed on Mondays. Boo-hoo! We parked at the fishing pier and Grampa paid $1 each for us to walk very far out...where Molli took a bunch of pictures of different configurations...me and bonney, me and ray, amelia and molli...grampa and me and bonney...you get the idea. Then we went to Sharky's and had a lovely seafood dinner, paid for by Kevin, who didn't even eat any seafood. He found the perfect restaurant, because he and Amelia could eat pizza! After dinner, we managed to play several hands of Cancellation Hearts before some of us went to bed about 10. Molli was whipping up some strawberry margaritas, so not sure how late they stayed up. 

Bonney is up now though and I am ready for breakfast...today is girls' day--what do you think might be on the schedule?

Bonney, at 54, was making her father bacon and eggs, coffee, and toast. Patty, her older sister, had given up on reading a Barbara Kingsolver novel, one of her favorite authors. Somehow she had missed reading it yet. Such a pleasure, to have a new book from a favorite author to read. Perfect for vacation. Amelia, third generation, was reading a magazine, curled up on the couch in her pajamas and a sweater, with her fingers in her mouth, as her mother had been before she stopped reading. It was cool in the condo, although the sun was streaming in beautifully. A perfect day, with the view of the beach in the distance.

"I don't know why you are waiting on me hand and foot," said Dad...

Mark was the youngest of three, doted on by parents and older siblings. As a child, he could go where he chose in the small town. He and his friends would ride their bikes down to the docks and play along the water's edge. As long as they were home before dark, there were not a lot of rules. Anyone who saw them doing anything wrong might report them to their parents, but there were not cell phones to call them and ask where they were and what they were doing.

One time, my Dad took it into his head to ride his bike down the steep ramp leading to the dock. He thought he would be able to stop at the bottom. He could not. He walked home, dripping mud and salt water through his mother's kitchen, and changed his clothes. He was surprised when she asked him later what had happened. How did she know? The smell of mud flats still brings a smile to his face, 80 years later.

His father owned the hardware store in town. It bore his name (Collins and Freeman). He also was an auctioneer on the side. People liked him and trusted him and vice versa. He came in early and stayed late. His employees worked hard, but they were like family. My Dad could go in there and they would give him treats--small toys or candy.

When I was 5 or 6, we spent the summer in Branford. My sister and I "helped." The workers found small chores for us to do and paid us with Matchbox cars. We got them for Christmas too and had collections we compared. A fire engine...a dump truck...a race car.

My father's life took an unhappy turn. His brother died suddenly after swimming in a quarry, polio. One day he was alive and the next he was dead.

Things to take to the beach

hat
water bottle
chair
book or magazine
towel
bocce
bird book
binoculars
sunscreen
sun glasses
camera
snacks

a wagon to carry it all

I've already eaten apple cake with walnuts for breakfast, and some yogurt with strawberries picked by my daughter a few days ago. The sun is a radiating ball of fire in the sky, a few feet above the horizon. I am huddled under a blanket from the pre-dawn chill, but I won't want the blanket much longer. The birds are quieter this morning for some reason (it's Monday?) and I can hear the waves breaking on the shore. I am ready to head down to the beach, but I don't want to miss anything.

Soon, people I love will wander out of their bedrooms, stretching and yawning and rubbing their eyes. They won't be very talkative at first, but then they will start asking questions and thinking about what they want to do first.

Today is boys' day...every day, two of us get to be in charge of the day's activities. They can't ask for crazy stuff, nothing outrageously expensive or difficult, but they get to choose when we are deciding what to eat or which fun thing to do first. Shall we all play cards? Or walk on the beach? Or rent kayaks? This system simplifies decision-making for 8 people with different interests. Generally, it works well. Nobody becomes a dictator, but everybody gets a chance to say, "It's not my turn to do dishes..."

Mostly, I get a pass on cooking, because I did a lot of cooking last week. In fact, I am afraid we have too many desserts, as hard as that is to imagine. And we have an extra casserole. Kevin said last night he wants to take us all out to dinner one night. Since it's boys' day, it will probably be tonight. And I have an untouched ziti with sausage in the fridge, as well as leftovers from several other meals. I guess it will probably get eaten at some point. The other thing I'd like to do is buy some local fresh-caught seafood and cook it up...but there are more days ahead.

Now is the quiet time while I listen to the birds and the surf and wait for them to wake up and start the fun...anticipating is almost the best part.