Everyone (all five of you) who reads these blogs knows I use the Three Witches as my homing beacon. Whenever I’m in the car heading home my eyes always seek out the three mountain tops. It’s a throw back to when I first arrived in the area and my GPS system was hinky. It’s gotten to the point that I don’t realize I’m visually seeking them out, until they do something that brings them into the forefront of my consciousness.
Tuesday morning I was coming back from a Walmart run – I was short on Mule veggies and some more honey for the last of the outdoor post season bee party – when I glanced up and saw that the Strange Sisters were doing the dance of the seven veils.
In an otherwise blue sky the mountains alone were wrapped in cotton candy.
I took it as a test. They wanted to build up my confidence. They wanted to let me know that I could find my way home without them. Buck up, Tommy, you got this.
It’s like when a parent first lets their child walk home from school alone, but just to make sure, follows them on their usual route at a discrete distance to make sure the experiment goes off without a hitch. Funny how the kid always spots them at some point along the way. But that’s okay, both parties are comfortable in the lie.
It’s a comfort thing.
The experiment was a success. But I winked at the Three Witches just as I pulled into my driveway to let them know I was onto them.
Speaking of experiments. . . .
When I went out to refill the honey plates yesterday,
I glanced over at The Old Man and spotted a number of birds safely drinking from the Mules’ trough, thanks to my safety netting. I was thrilled that my jerry-rigged system was working.
The netting offered lots of room for a democratic sampling of the topped off tank by the local bird population. They could lean in with a firm grip on the netting. Plenty for all.
This left the fountain in the JTS Grotto open for a more leisurely sip.
And the bird bath out front for bathing.
Like the Three Witches, or the parent following home their children, I try not to let the birds or bees see me watching them, happy in their comfort and safety, although I’m pretty sure the Robin at the fountain winked at me before flying off.
And, of course, Claire and Honey seemed happy enough just doing their thing.
No matter, we are all content with the outcome. Another magical day on the earth at Casa Claire with our basic needs met. And that’s a win.
Speaking of flying off, I have a lot on my plate today, so I better get moving.
But first, a kitty to cuddle and rounds to make.
It’s Thursday, the unsung herald of happy Friday.
So let’s get out there and knock this work week on its head.
And while we are at it, let’s keep an eye on those around us, just in case they could use a discrete boost.
Hold that elevator door when you see someone rushing to make it. Refill the coffee-maker. Leave a plate of delicious cookies or candy out in the common area for your co-workers or employees to sample.
Slip a few bills or change into some street person’s hand or cup as you pass them.
Smile and nod when you make eye contact with a passerby.
They may never know who you are, but they will take comfort in the fact that someone out there cares about them. And sometimes that’s enough.
But whatever we do, let’s make today a great one.
4 Responses
One never knows what another person is dealing with so be kind… it cost nothing….also in the mindset of paying it forward here is a suggestion….never pass a 🍋 ade stand and always pay more….unless the stand owner is a grumpy relocated bronx boy!!! Have a great day Tommy
On that vein, you can always just make a donation to the girl scouts hawking those delicious cookies in February. I happen to be a Lemonade aficionado, so I never pass a stand if I can help it. I always round up. But as far as grumpy relocated Bronxites are concerned, the only one I know fitting that description moved out to Long Island back in the 90s. From that point forward, grumpiness was just a myth in our magical borough that parents told their children about while they were all laughing around the dinner table or at the back yard BBQ.
As one of your five fine local readers I want to thank you for your kindness of placing Gregory Hill’s “East of Denver” book, inscribed to you, on Mike O’Shay’s Literary Bookshelf. When I first read TWA it felt like I was reading something from someone who knew Greg. How both of you come up with your ideas to write for us I will never know.
Happy to do it, Carole. It’s readers like you that make writing so much fun and rewarding.