Notes from the home front

Some people like Fall best, but Spring is my favorite time in Texas, with flowers blooming and soft pleasant temperatures. Sure, we could use more rain, and we're due to get it this coming week I believe. But meantime it has been perfect weather for driving with the top down on the car and for sitting on the deck at night with a book on my iPad and a glass of wine. Sophie keeps me company and defends me by occasionally running off to bark at I don't know what threat.
It was not a peaceful morning here. I have acquired a phone stalker--now you need to realize that my younger son, Jamie, is the ultimate prank phone caller. The other day he woke me from a nap, using a voice I didn't recognize, asked what I was doing, and said, "Oh, I called the wrong number. I meant to call Jean (he named a friend of mine). I'll just call her and call  you back later." Anxious to catch a bit more sleep before I had to get Jacob I said fine, and he said, "Mom, I really got you that time!"
So a few days later when the phone rang during nap time and a man I didn't recognize said,, "Mrs. Alt-air?" I assumed it was Jamie, told him if he didn't stop talking that way I'd hang up on him. I don't remember what he said, but I kept waiting for him to say, "Mom, I didn't get you this time." It didn't happen. The man asked how I was and such inanities. Finally I hung up and he called right back. Still no admission that it was Jamie, so I said, "Call me back at four," and he agreed. Later that night I emailed Jamie to ask what happened to "I'll call you back at four." Not unusual there was no answer.
Well, this morning at 6:10 the same voice called to say "Good morning, Mrs. Alt-air. How are you?" I mumbled "Good morning and goodbye" and hung up. It didn't wake Jacob but it sure brought me awake because I knew it wasn't Jamie. Later, I looked on the phone for the name and area code--876. Looked it up, and it's Jamaica--comes with a warning about scam calls. I'm hoping my "friend" doesn't call back.
Jacob got up before I did--I wanted to linger in that half-sleep of a morning when I didn't need to pop out of bed. Sophie would have none of it. She barked and barked at me until I got up. Nope, she didn't need to go outside--she just wanted me up and moving about the house. She knows she is allowed on two pieces of furniture--Jacob's bed and the overstuffed chair in my office--once clean duck, not dirty gray. So last night, Jacob had her up in my bed with him, and today on the couch. I said "I have two spoiled babies," and Jacob replied, "Yes,  you do."
For years, like my father before me, I've fought the squirrel/bird feeder battle. The last few years I've had a caged bird feeder with traps that close up when anything heavy lands on the little perches. Small birds are just heavy enough to open the traps and release seed. Sorry, doves and mockingbirds--eat what falls on the ground. But tonight I found a squirrel on there--three times. I'd bang on the grate on the indoor greenhouse window, and he'd scurry away--only to come back, perch in the tree and glare at me. We did this about  three or four times before he finally gave up. I don't think he was getting any bird seed anyway.
In spite of prank callers and squirrels, life is sure sweet with children, dogs, birds, and lovely weather.

Where have all the birds gone?

All summer long I've filled the bird feeder every other day--but early last week they ate about a third of the bird seed, and it's remained at that level ever since. I don't see birds around the feeder, in the trees or bushes, and I don't hear them singing. It's kind of spooky, as though they know something about this heat wave we don't, like the zoo animals in D.C. who knew the earthquake was coming before mankind did in spite of all our sophisticated technology. And frankly, I miss them. Please send in the birds!
Sophie the pup and I have been doing battle royal over my bookcase--she wants to chew the bottom shelf on two sections--for some reason, she ignores the other two. I put duct tape down, and she industriously worked to chew it off. I sprayed that stuff that's supposed to repel dogs, and she licked it. Today, having totally lost patience with her when after lots of scolding about the chewing and a firm no about chasing the cat, she chased him anyway, I put her in her crate and took a friend's advice to spray Tabasco on the bookcase. Works like a charm. She took one sniff and hasn't been near the bookshelves again. I think I'll buy a huge bottle of the stuff. Thank you, Sally.
Speaking of mysteries, which we weren't but they're always on my mind, I went to a booksigning at the local Barnes and Noble for Laurie Moore's Couple Gunned Down--News At Ten. I'd read the first in this series, Woman Strangled--News at Ten, amd liked it. Besdes I felt it would be polite to go to a fellow mystery writer's signing since it was so close, and I was glad I did--she seemed genuinely glad to see me. It's the kind of thing that I too often put on my calendar and then just don't do, so chalk one up for me--on another hot day. Now I'm inside for the duration.
And a word on another mystery. I just read Blackbird Fly, by Lise McClendon. Since I read about it on a mystery listserv, I expected a mystery. Instead, it opens as a contemplative, introspective novel about a woman dealing with the sudden death of her husband and the way life can change so quickly. But when Merle Bennet and her teen-age son, Tristan, go to a rural French village to see her husband's family homestead, which she has inherited, intrigue and suspicion build until there is murder and violence. It's all set against the backdrop of a tranquil village that hides many secrets. In spite of that and the ostracism she faces, Merle makes friends and weaves herself into the life of the village until it is a major character in the book. Yes, it's a mystery, but much more it chronicles in a beautiful, haunting way one woman's journey toward emotional freedom, toward learning to fly like the blackbird. I give five stars to this one.
With my computer problems, I got behind on "Potluck with Judy" but I posted a guest blog today. Please go to http://potluckwithjudy.blogspot.com to see what Pat Deuson has to say about daube. I had no idea what it was--except maybe a daub of paint--until Pat wrote this blog. Her new mystery, Superior Longing, comes out mid-September. Watch for it.

Birds and other good stuff

I love watching the birds at the feeder just outside the window over my kitchen sink--I cannot imagine having a kitchen sink without a window over it and think that would keep me from buying a house. But the little birds, sparrows and the like, come five and six at a time and boy, do they squabble and chase each other away. But today I've had a beautiful male cardinal (I saw him yesterday too) and a male blue jay. They're bigger, and the little birds make room for them. Every once in a while a dove tries landing on the feeder, but they're really too big. Besides, they're mostly ground feeders and can eat what gets scattered on the ground. I think with this bird feeder--mesh, with a small lip and hung far enough from the tree--I have thwarted the squirrels. However, they have devoured the fig crop. I had lots and lots of small green figs and now I barely have a few. My mom used to encase her tree in netting, but my tree is too big for that. I don't remember that my folks had this problem in North Carolina--maybe they didn't have all the squirrels we have. But they had a huge row of fig trees, so tall that we put Colin on top of the van to pick them.
This was my last day of treating myself as fragile, and I really do feel a lot better. Cooked ground sirloin and spinach for dinner--only ate a little of each (it still hurts to open my mouth) so I'll have lunch and dinner for tomorrow. Got more work done--finished the chili chapter, combined all the chapters into one file, and took notes on Gail Borden. Who knew that condensed milk began in Texas, product of the mind of an eccentric inventor who spent most of his life in debt and ended up a rich philanthropist. I find the story fascinating. Had done a children's manuscript on it that has never been published, but I had all the info on hand.Tonight I'm going to give myself the luxury of reading.
I am apprehensive about tomorrow, of course. My brother called and said if I weren't, I wouldn't be normal. But I remember the morning the dentist did two crowns in one sitting because, as he said, if they're in the same quarter of the mouth, they do them all at once. It was an ordeal, and I was in the chair over three hours. That was the day I fell walking out of the dentist's office, which my doctor tells me  was not such a big deal--it's not unusual to be off balance when you've been in the dentist chair that long. I figure tomorrow won't be as bad as that.
After the dental appointment and a nap, I have to take control of my world again. But I've kind of enjoyed these two days! In a funny way--wouldn't want to live this way all the time.

Birds, travel, and grandsons

I wish I were a better birder, wish I could recognize the various birds that come to my feeder outside the kitchen window (of course, the exterminator tells me that's why I had rats last year and I should put it far away from the house, but then I wouldn't see the birds, and I do enjoy them!). Tonight a small crested fellow came--he had just a bit of red at the back of his head, and his body was striped black and white. He was quite striking though I have no idea who he was. I do get cardinals and bluebirds and robins along with sparrows and other small birds, whose names I'm not sure of. And I often get doves, who are too big for the feeder but still try to eat from it. The library staff at work frequently sends out pictures of birds they've sighted, asking for i.d.--the last was a red-tailed hawk, seen in my neighborhood, though I've not seen it. But recognizing birds is one of the nature lessons I really long to know. I'd also like to be able to recognize more types of trees instantly. I know elm, maple, oak, post oak, redbud, dogwood--and oh, what's the one that turns the beautifl red in the fall? Anyway at my age, my nature education needs improving. And speaking of such, I hear they caught a bobcat in Frisco, north of Main street and west of the freeway--which is exactly where Jamie and Mel and the girls live. I'll have to ask for a report.
At Christmas my neighbors put bright Christmas ornaments in their bird feeder and strung festive lights along the fence between our two houses (there's not much room and neither of us have a scenic view). They've turned out the lights but not filled the bird feeder, which of course makes me feel righteous because I emptied, washed and refilled mine last week. But tonight I also saw some birds pecking away at the leftovers in their tray and completely puzzled by the ornaments. One morning recently I watched a mourning dove sit on their window sill and fly again and again up to the crossbar on their window. They have, courtesy of previous owners, some kind of reflective covering on their windows--the only way to remove it is to hand-scrape inch by inch and in spite of all the wonderful things they've done to their house, they haven't done that yet. So I don't know if the bird was confused by it's own image or what, but it kept flying against that window and I felt so sorry for it.
The reflective stuff on Jay and Susan's windows, along with my new blinds, has led to a funny phenomenon. Now that I keep the blinds open on that side of the house to get the light (several people have remarked lately on the wonderful light in my house, but it was always hidden by those gauzy drapes before!) But when their house is dark, I clearly see the reflection of mine--it looks like their kitchen windows have suddenly developed a lower dimension, which is really my bedroom--I can see the lamp I leave on at night. And in the morning, when I walk from my study to the kitchen, I see my study reflected--it's on a lower level than their house, but it looks so warm and cozy and inviting.
I am not a good traveler. Tomorrow I leave for Austin for five days, and I have to gear myself up for it, even though I'll be with my darling Megan and her family. Tonight she called and said the boys had one request: that I bring my knitting needles and yarn. Hello? Does anyone know how long it's been since I knit? At least 2-1/2 years because the last thing I struggled through was a blanket for Jacob. But apparently the boys want thneeds (google it--comes from a Dr. Seuss book) which are sort of shapeless, so anything I knit will be satisfactory. I put my bag of leftover yarns by the door to go and the knitting needles in my suitcase. Now if I can only remember how to cast on and off . . . .

Back in school

Well, I'm back in school again. I've signed up for an online graduate course in Women Writing in the U.S. that has a definite medical bent--so it interests me for the medical angle and the literature angle. I also signed up, as a guest observer, because I wanted to see how online or distance teaching works, and it's fascinating though a bit confusing. Requirements are that you make three original posts to the bulletin board and one reply, or something like that, (substitutes for participation in class discussion) and you get points for each one. Papers are submitted online, and everything is independent. The class never meets.
The course also forces me to put aside my mysteries and read serious literature. I never paid much attention to Henry James in graduate school--can't remember if I even had a class that included him. But now I've read Daisy Miller (sorry, but I still find James ponderous) and I'm about to tackle the short story, "The Yellow Wallpaper," by Charlotte Perkins Gilman. All this, of course, has a strong feminist twist to it, but the articles about attitudes toward women and health in the 19th century were fascinating. And this afternoon I found myself really exhilarated by the new stuff I was reading, the new information I was gaining.
In truth, I came home today thinking I didn't have much on my plate--but then, with the course and a topic I thought of independently that I want to investigate--too soon to talk about it--I had a busy afternoon. So the truth comes home to me once more--I need to have projects to keep my busy--and happy. I'd like it, of course, if they were all paying projects, but if not, as long as they engage me intellectually, I'm content.
My neighbors, Jay and Susan, brought over a bottle of wine last night along with a bird feeder, a garbage can full of seed, and a measuring scoop. They know how much I enjoy the birds at their feeder--okay, I once semi-complained because it went empty when they were out of town, and I offered to fill it because the birds quit coming. Anyway, they wanted me to have one outside my kitchen window. I quick called Jim who does my yard, but he came today, mowed, and forgot about the feeder! I called and whined. My next project is going to be to learn to recognize more than robins, cardinals, and dove. I may also hang a hummingbird feeder on the porch.
Meantime, while Jay and Susan were here Jordan and Jacob arrived for dinner, and we all had a jolly happy hour, with Jacob clearly the center of attention. Then Jacob got hungry, and all bets were off.
Life is good.