Tuesday, July 5, 2022

Dwight Day!

Yes, this photo is shite, but it does manage to show you the glorious colours of this stunning little bird at my feeder yesterday morning. It is the prettiest guest to Pinecone Park ever… well, there’s the Hummingbirds and the deer.

The Turkey Vulture was back yesterday, and again perched on my fence for a long time. There is definitely something dead around here. I ain’t going lookin’! And last evening a momma Flicker came to visit with her two youngsters. She chipped away at my suet, sharing her take with her babies.

Jane wrote to me about my vulture vision. She suggested that I Google the spiritual significance of vultures. Here’s what I discovered:

The vulture spirit animal is associated with harmony, purity, and cleansing for the motif that it eats the dead and doesn't let the disease get spread. The spirit animal vulture makes its appearance in your life when you are in suffering to remind you that by hurting, you will grow and evolve to a higher self.

Thank you, dear Jane, for adding to my knowledge of my visiting vulture. It, the yellow bird above, and the Flicker family are all welcome blessings.

Yesterday got off to a great start. Dwight called to say that he is coming over today and staying until Thursday. He’s my spirit brother and to have a couple of days with him here is a wish come true. He’ll join Dave, Dan and Steve here for dinner on Wednesday night, otherwise we’ll have all the time to ourselves.

After his call yesterday, I went into overdrive cleaning, tidying, doing laundry, and shopping. Dwight is a pescatarian so I’ve got a lot of cooking to do for us for the two nights—one, a dinner party for five people. He’ll be here around noon.

In the afternoon, I made my famous Caramelized Garlic and Spinach tart. It’s a deep-dish tart that we’ll have for dinner tonight, and likely for lunch tomorrow. In the evening, right after dinner, I baked a Maple-Peach sheet tart for our dessert tomorrow night. We’ll have it with ice cream.  Yum! Just as the tart went into the oven, David, in whose honour tomorrow night’s dinner was arranged, has bailed. He’s been exposed to Covid. I’m glad he made his decision to stay home, given the circumstances. So far, I’ve been lucky. Well. Prudent.

Today, I’ve to make a thick curry sauce, rich with vegetables, to serve with veggie meat balls for Dwight, and with Chicken for the rest of us tomorrow night.

It's lovely to do a walkabout and see that Pinecone Park gives an impression, to passers-by, of being well maintained. Close inspection will reveal details that need my attention, in fact, a great many of them. But a casual perusal of the grounds, is very pleasing to the eye and soul. It’s unusual for the lawns to be green in July, but with more rain and/or cloudy days ahead, it’s likely to stay green until the middle of the month. Some of the gardens are three and four years old and have filled in nicely. Gardens look best once their established. Ask my friend, Beth.

I’m very excited about Dwight coming. We lived together for five years and found in each other a very comfortable friendship. He’s the brother I wish I had. He’s younger and wiser than I am. We’re a support group together.

Dyan wrote to say that I’ll hear from her on Wednesday. It’s to her that I submitted the draft communications plan. For commentary. I’m looking forward to hearing what she says, and doing another, likely final, draft. Then we’ll be off, and that may mean getting to some specifics about the newspaper. I’m hoping to be editor.

She mentioned to us, her committee, that she is the president designate. The more work we do together until she takes over from Chuck, the more likely I feel that I’ll wind up on the board in charge of Communications and Community Relations, still responsible to her and the board, just as I am now.

My gardens, my pets, and my condition all root me here in my little piece of paradise island. I’ve nourished them all except the gardens. My next project will be to fertilize all my plants. They deserve nourishment, and I’ll be rewarded next year. Plus, I’ve got to get to splitting my largest pieces of bucked wood. To get the splitter here, I need to write to everyone I know in the island to see if there’s someone with a trailer hitch who can help me.

My second STAMMA article has been well received and it, too, will be published. I ain’t dead yet! 

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