remains of the day

June 9, 2011


When I got home this afternoon, Oma teasingly asked me if it had been a “dandelion day,” referring to my uprooting need last week. I laughed and said that no; today, in fact, had been a successful one, in a relatively insignificant manner. I had accomplished only a small amount: one application submitted. But the other aspects of the day had me rather pleased. It began with my reading in the paper that today was Free Transit Day with the public transport. I happily jumped on the chance to ditch my car at the closest bus stop and announce the code phrase of “clean air day” to the driver as I boarded. He smiled and waved me on.
At the end of my green errand-running day, as I stepped off the bus, I say a bit of paper on the ground. Not terribly familiar with the currency, it took me a bit to recognize the $5 bill laying there. I looked around for someone to ask about dropping it but no one was within eyesight so I shrugged and picked it up. Wow, I thought, I actually made money doing the sort of daily runnings that normally use it up!”
Back to my return home . . .
After Oma’s teasing, I decided I should go out and dig up at least one dandelion regardless of the day, just for the sake of giving her a laugh. But she gave me a laugh. For when I stepping into the lawn I saw that she had been the one uprooting weeds today–apparently my day left me feeling significantly more benevolent towards the weeds than it did Oma :-)

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It was a wedding weekend for my family: for this region’s, this country’s branch of my family, at least. And I was so grateful to be able to be a representative there for my own immediate branch of the family, which finds itself currently situated in just about the most scattered manner possible., covering the far corners of one country, traversing one ocean, and crossing one other country’s border . . .
But back to the celebration at hand. The chosen day turned out to be the most beautiful day yet, so far as the region’s weather goes. Ideal for an outdoor, mountaintop ceremony and a lakeside reception.
There being sunshine to be soaked up, young ones to play with, and water to be splashed about it, I happily planted myself in the sand-castle-building contingency. My own creation was rather dwarfed by the boys’ “tower of awesome,” which consisted of not one, not two . . . but 23 castle turrets. But I defended my castle’s dignity, pointing out that it sported a fine flag even. “Fine,” I conceded, when I was informed that my flagpole missed a flag. “You’re right . . .” And then not-quite-awesome castle was rescued with this lovely, leafy flag.
I laugh as I write this and wonder if it is sacrilegious somehow, to speak of such banal amusements when writing about a wedding. But you know, I mused last night, as we drove home, that what was so lovely about the day was the whole of it. The physical pleasures of sunshine and sand as much a part of it as the ceremonial aspects. The brotherly squabbles just as much as the formal wedding kiss. Life is made up of the whole of it, so it seems fitting for this day of celebration to be the same . . .

bird battles

June 4, 2011


I gawked when she told me, in a most matter-of-fact fashion, the reason she hates the Starlings so. Since I arrived, Oma has told me how mad she is each time they poop on the car. I thought it was an overreaction, but now I understand and I too am mad at the Starlings. The truth is that not only do they poop on cars. They kill the Robins, so they can steal their nests! Oma used to watch for the same pairs of male and female Robins she would have each year. She had eight pairs. Now there are only two, and she has watched the males, grieving for their departed females. So Oma works in her garden and talks back at the Starlings when they chatter angrily each time someone is near a nest. In fact, she has had them flit so close that they nabbed her bum as she bent over the plants. I tried it out for myself this afternoon, waving my bum in the air, just daring them to come and attack as I tried to follow the volume of the chattering to bother them closer to wherever their nests may be. But I didn’t get to experience the bum-whacking . . . not yet, anyway :-) I did snap this shot of the mid-squawking Starling, which also gives you a pretty good glimpse of one of Oma’s prize Apricot trees.
Ok, back to watching Oma now. She’s trying to prove to me that they will do it . . .

cycling

June 3, 2011


Shortly after arriving here, I discovered that I had left one country’s “National Bike Month” to arrive just in time for this country’s “National Bike to Work Week.” So what could I do but buy myself a bike? [for the grand sum of $15–my kind of price!]. This afternoon I used that bike to do what I’ve wanted to do for some time now: took my camera along for a visit with some neighboring horses. Happily, friendly ones :-)