My goldfinches are back in the garden!

A week or so ago, I had 7 pair of goldfinches at my thistle and black sunflower seed feeders.  I was thrilled to see them.  I love the little juncos who come to my feeders in the winter months and am so sad to see them depart.  I wonder where they spend their summers?  Maybe Wisconsin?!

But, in return, I get these delightful little yellow chevron-backed goldfinches!  A fair trade, I might say!

Hope your feeders are having lots of feathered friends...

Oh!  During our last ice/snow storm, the hawk in the neighborhood came and sat upon my fence.  Most likely overseeing his "menu" of the day, which had mysteriously disappeared into any nearby shrubs, honeysuckle vines leftover or anyplace that didn't attract the hawk's attention! 

Today the temp is 78 degrees in Dallas area!

So, this is weather in Texas, for sure!  Cold as can be two weeks ago and today it is HOT for this time of year!  I am NOT ready for the yucky humidity of the summer months, at all!  I do love to have just a 4-6 week period of "spring" weather -- before the humidity starts creeping back in!

Welcome to 2011!

Well, I had lost track of my email address and password, etc, etc!  So I was not posting during the winter months and during this last few cold, snowy weeks!  I may pull some of those photos and pop them in, just to show you that we REALLY do get snow here in Texas!

A tribute to our soldiers - borrowed from anysoldier.com's website today

The Things I Carry The old train lumbered up the track amid a hoofbeat clatter, its cloudy windows streaked by rain that fell in gentle patter. With duffle heavy on my back I trudged along the aisle Until I saw an empty seat next to a welcome smile. A stifled groan curled in my chest beneath the weight I bore; I shrugged the duffle off my back, it thudded on the floor. "That pack looks awfully heavy friend" he said with narrowed stare, "You got a load of cinderblocks or something tucked in there?" My gaze fell to the weathered bag, its corners taped and patched, the olive drab a faded grey, one canvas strap mismatched. I forced a smile that in my heart was anything but merry and through my gritted teeth replied "Its just the things I carry." Perhaps it was the lonely night, the thunder and the rain, a sense of kindred friendship that I couldn't quite explain, but with a snap of rusted clip the duffle opened wide and reaching in I showed him all the things I had inside. A heavy armored vest was first, its kevlar torn and frayed the gaping hole stained dark with blood was caused by a grenade. "My best friend's life" I whispered, fearing that my voice would crack; "He gave it up to save me in the desert of Iraq." "We grew up just like brothers ever since the age of nine, fishing up on Grady's Pond or flyin kites on twine, our first car was a Mustang, man we made that baby slide. He always calls me 'slick,' I mean... he did until he died." A brick of granite followed, dark and grey as stormy sky, engraved upon its polished face, a date in mid-July. "I wasn't home the day I lost my dad," I muttered low, remembering that awful day so many years ago. "Our unit drew a line that month in deep Afghanistan protecting little schoolgirls from a bloody Taliban." My somber gaze fell to the floor and fixed on muddy shoes. "Dad was gone two weeks before I even got the news." The silence hung a moment broken only by the rain, the beating of my heart over the rumble of the train, before I heard him ask about the thing I left inside, a mason jar that wads of dirty laundry failed to hide. "Don't open that," I said too fast, my voice now tinged with fear. "There's things in there that, trust me, you don't ever wanna hear." I thought about the demons bottled up inside that jar; some things are better left alone... left just the way they are. "I've seen a lot of people die, and let me tell you friend, the sounds, the smells..." I bowed my head, "sometimes they never end." I don't know why the lid slips off, it mostly does at night; and it can take me hours just to get it back on tight." The man then spoke in earnest tones that tugged my memory, "It seems a lot of weight to haul, but why I cannot see. What makes a fellah like yourself lug such a load of pain?" A furrow crossed my tired brow, I struggled to explain. I spoke to him of duty, of the things a man just did, of old regrets that in the darkness of the heart lay hid; the ghosts of fallen friends you just can't bring yourself to bury, the bridges crossed and moments lost are just the things I carry. Instead of being saddened now he seemed a bit amused, "I admire your resolve bub, but you've got it all confused; The memories you're s'posed to keep aren't those that weigh a ton," and handing me three items said "I'll trade you one for one." The photo showed two lanky guys in t-shirts and blue jeans, both leaning on a Mustang like a pair of Steve McQueens. The memories came flooding back of racing 'round our home in an overpowered yellow wedge of spoilers and chrome. The letter was a short one folded carefully in thirds, my dad had never been a man of very many words; In careful print it said his greatest pride since life began was watching me grow up to be a soldier and a man. Through misty eyes I looked the last upon the ocean shell, if it had a hidden meaning I'd be damned if I could tell. "You know the trick," he softly said, "just hold it to your ear, and listen to the things in life you've earned the right to hear." I heard the sounds of my home town where screams were shouts of cheer, as kids ran up and down the field without the need to fear; the ring of freedom's many voices blended in the air, the sound of open singing and the sound of open prayer. I turned to find an empty seat, just air and little more than dust that slowly settled down upon the wooden floor. Yet on that evanescence hung a voice I knew at last a whisper from my memory, an echo from my past: "Remember slick, the way to honor those of us now gone; is searching for the best ahead in each and every dawn. Hold on to the good times, not the moments dark and scary, I'm telling you to let 'em go... they aren't yours to carry." Michael Marks ©2007

Tomorrow is Veterans Day!

I've decided that I'll branch out into other topics on my blog, especially in the late fall and winter months!  Tomorrow is the day to honor our veterans from all branches of the Armed Forces...

I, personally, have a number of adopted "sons and daughters" and medical groups who are provided up-to-date magazines that range from US and People to Rider and American Rifleman, Golf Digest, Sports Illustrated, Self and whatever else someone wants to donate to me to send over to them!

I also have Benny in the Phillipines and he doesn't care how "old" the magazines are or where your little newspaper comes from!  He's anxious for news written in English, I'm suspecting...???

I've been remiss!

Okay, I've been away from my blog, because I've started back to work... and the Time has "fallen back" to regular time or whatever it does!!

So, it's too dark at night to remember that I need to water my new little Johnny Jump-up plants!  Snuck out there this morning before work only to find that they were in dire need of water!  Got a drink into them and I'm hoping they'll survive until the weekend when I can plant them in something bigger.

Finally - sunshine this afternoon!

I didn't realize how much I LOVE the sunshine!  We've had a gray day for two days now, and I am so tickled to see the sunshine this afternoon!  It really invigorates me, and I sincerely doubt if I could survive in the rainy days of the Northwest. 

Here's a photo of my little mums who love this weather!