Empty Nest

This morning as I was sitting out on the deck (in my recently re-located swinging hammock chair), I heard a commotion going on behind me.  The usual early morning commotion is caused by hummingbirds and their refusal to share a feeder. (Are hummingbird-feeder manufacturers aware of this trait? And if so, why do they insist on putting 3 or 4 feeding flowers on a device that will in fact only be utilized by one hummer at at time?) This morning's commotion, however, was not hummingbirds but blue birds.

We have a nesting box in our yard that has been occupied every summer for 18 years.  It came about as the result of a blue bird nest continually being constructed in our drier vent. At the time, we lived in a mobile home on the property. The vent for the drier ran under the house and ended at the exterior wall. I was afraid the heat would fry the baby birds that would eventually abide there, not to mention being a fire hazard. I removed several nest start-ups, but those birds were determined to build there.  I finally settled on a substitution plan. El was a newborn and I noticed that formula cans were roughly the same diameter as the drier vent.  I covered the vent with mesh and attached an empty formula can directly under the opening. The blue birds liked it just as well and proceeded to build anew.  The girls were able to watch several broods of baby blue birds that summer. Early the next spring, we bought a blue bird nesting box and mounted it on a post in the yard. It's been inhabited every year since then.

Back to this morning:  The commotion was lots of agitated twittering at the box.  I spun my chair around to see what was happening. The dark blue dad was on a nearby antennae guy wire. The less-blue mom was on the front of the box. It looked like she was blocking the entrance. An even lesser-blue fledgling was on top of the box. And all of them were making blue bird noises, all at the same time.  I imagine it was the blue bird equivalent to a T-ball game: lots of encouraging yells from the parents and lots of excitement and/or whining from the kid being forced out of his comfort zone.

The young one gradually got used to his wings and fluttered up to the top of the post and then over to the guy wire. Once he flew back to the opening in the box and looked in, but he didn't try to go back inside. (I did take a picture, but the distance was too great to be able to see much. I didn't want to get any closer and risk interrupting the process.)

By the time I had to leave, he had flown over to the big oak tree. He was sitting on the end of a branch with his mom nearby.

And the commotion had ceased.

Socks

I just folded a load of clothes that had 26 clean socks.  That's not really unusual. The truly remarkable thing is that from those 26 socks, there were 13 matched pairs of socks.  There was not a singleton (or I suppose from an even number of socks there would have to be at least 2 singletons) left over.  That is almost unheard of at this house.

There is always the question of what to do with those singletons.  Should they go in the sock drawer where they will always remain unused, passed over in the rush to get dressed in the morning?  Should they be thrown away with the understanding that parted pairs are hardly ever reunited?  In our house they are put in a little pile on top of the drier.  At the present time, there are 13 singletons on top of the drier.

I know.  That sounds like a lot of socks.  But at least 4 or 5 of those are little bitty, no-show, mainly-just-covers-the-bottom-of-your-foot kind of socks, so they don't add much volume to the stack.  And those are in a variety of colors, too: pink, black, and several shades of beige.

There is one black band sock.  No one in our house wears black crew socks except Mr. H . . . unless it's marching season.  Then 1 or possibly 2 of the girls have A pair that gets worn for a few hours on Friday nights.  The one on top of the drier is too small to fit Mr. H, so it must be a band sock.  And its mate probably made its escape on a bus trip.  I'll end up purchasing a new pair when marching season starts up again.

Certain socks are delegated to the singleton pile and never move on.  (I suspect the band sock is one of those.)  Others move in for the time it takes to wash several loads and are then happily reunited with their mates.  I try to look through them weekly to see if there are any pairs hiding among the singletons.  I suspect some of those little bitty, no-shows have mates lurking at the back of my daughters' sock drawers or under their beds or even static-ly stuck to the inside of some garment that has fallen out of favor.

But until I am overcome with a fit of cleaning, the pile on the top of the drier is safe...but still lonely.

Frugality

We try to be frugal at the H household.  Some might even call us cheap.  But I hope we're never stingy.

I think it's associated with the genes from Mr. H's side of the family.  His sister is one of those people who can almost always find something on sale, and if it's not on sale (or better yet:  clearance!) has the willpower to simply walk away.  My eldest daughter is very much like her aunt.  She can find a deal on every shopping trip.  (side note:  we are going on our first outing as wedding dress shoppers tomorrow.  We'll see how well the genes prevail.)

This applies to utility expenses as well.  Living in south Mississippi, you know your highest electric bills will be in the summer.  When the temperature is in the upper 90s and the humidity is right there with it, the A/C just has to be on.  Last summer, it seemed that the warm weather was slow to start.  I think we made it until May before the A/C was turned on.  Some years there are days in late February that test the resolve of those who refuse to give in before April.  I can take the heat, but my family would rather not sweat.

Then there's that transition from summer to winter (there really is no fall in Mississippi.)  There will be several times in November that the A/C will be on for part of the day and you'll be wrapped in a blanket that evening.  We try not to turn the heat on until absolutely necessary.  Socks, sweatshirts, couch-potato blankets . . . do whatever it takes to keep warm.  Usually we have the fireplace to help out, but until the chimney sweep comes on Wednesday, I'm hesitant to light a fire.  We've lived in this house since the winter of 2001-02 and never had the chimney cleaned.  A few weeks ago, I started a fire and it tended to smoke and smell (yes, I DID remember to open the damper!) so I called to see if someone could come take care of it.  Who knew that it would take 3 weeks before someone could come!  And that was the 2nd place I called.  The first said they couldn't have anyone in our area until the off-season!  Wow!  If I need a new profession,  I'll look into that one.  Seems like they need a bigger labor force.

Sunday, 12/4 8:58 p.m.
This particular post has rambled on for several days now.  I started writing it Thursday.  It's time to wrap it up.  The eldest did find a dress she likes.  Yes, it is on sale, but her sisters must see it first so we have an appointment Thursday afternoon for all the H womenfolk to make the final decision.  There will be no pictures of it posted because a certain young gentleman might see it before he's supposed to.

And with that I'll say good-night because it's been a really long day.

Spring at Home

 There are lots of things with flowers in our yard right now.  The pink ones above are from a peach tree.

The white ones below will give way to pears this summer.

 This is our red bud tree.  My mom always liked red bud trees.

 I'm not entirely sure what this white and  pink beauty is, but the tree is loaded with blossoms.

 

As of now, just about the only bare trees are the pecans and the hawthorns.  

And the hawthorn is just plain prickly when naked.

End of Day . . . Homeward Bound

Behind me, the full moon has risen.  There is a high, thin layer of clouds that has captured her reflected light and transformed itself into a pale, bright veil around her.

Ahead of me, the sky still bears the afterglow of sunset:  crimson fading up through gold and lavender into deep indigo.  Trees on the distant horizon are like black lace stretched at the bottom of the sky. 

Closer to the dark road, light glows from the windows of otherwise invisible homes. 

Soon ...
        very soon ...
                       there will be light shining from my own windows.

The Sound of Summer

There is a sound that I associate with growing up in Mississippi.

It's the throbbing buzz of unseen cicadas.

I have loved this sound for as long as I can remember.

I walked out to put mail in the box this morning at church.  Standing at the mailbox looking across the road, the view is what you see above.

Resonating from the shade of these trees is a chorus of cicadas.  I really didn't want to come back inside

How to Fold a Fitted Sheet

A friend of mine posted a list of random thoughts the other day. I had seen it before, you probably have too. It included things such as expressing the need for a sarcasm font, questioning why we had to learn to write in cursive (I don't think they teach it in George County, by the way), and a suggestion to Mapquest to eliminate the first 3 or 4 steps in their driving instructions since we should know how to get out of our own neighborhoods.

One item struck a chord with me, though. #5 on the list was this:

How on earth are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet?

Well, that happens to be something I have an answer for! My eldest daughter's best friend taught her how and she taught me and now I'm going to teach you. (I suspect the best friend learned it from her mother, who is a wise woman and whose counsel is worth paying heed.)

I thought about how to explain it using only words, but some things just need a picture.

Here's your sheet, just out of the drier or laundry basket,
probably with someone's sock or underwear
jammed damply in one of the corner pockets.

1. The first step is to untangle it and remove anything hiding in the corners.

2. Next, you're going to take your fist...

...and put it in one of those corners.
I find that it helps if I start with a corner on the left on the long side of the sheet.
(think 'landscape' rather than 'portrait' orientation)
Open your hand and get your fingertips up to the end of that seam.

3. Now do the same thing with your right hand on the right end of that same long side.
The part of the sheet that covers the side of the mattress will be hanging over your hands.

4. Now, bring your palms together, like this:

With your left hand, pinch through both layers of sheet to hold them together.
With your right hand, flip the right corner over the left,
so that both corners are now hooked over your left hand.

5. With your free right hand, follow the edge of the bottom layer,
(the one touching your left hand) until you find another corner.
Put your hand in that corner.

At this point, your left hand is under 2 corners
and you've just put your right hand in a 3rd corner.
There should be one last corner floating free out there.

6. With your right hand that is covered with corner #3,
ring corner #4.
It might be turned the wrong way. If so, pinch it through corner #3
and flip it over your right hand.

You should now have 2 corners over each hand
and the sheet will be folded in half.

7. At this point, essentially repeat step 4.
Bring both palms together, pinch through all the layers with your left hand
and flip so that all 4 corners are on your left hand.

8. With your right hand, smooth out the flap of sheet
that makes folding fitted sheets so difficult in the first place.
All the corner seams are in one spot.
(top right in the picture below)
The pesky sides are as smooth as they are going to get.

Keeping the fitted part to the inside,
the rest is just like folding any other sheet.

Looking at that, you'd never know it was fitted.

It sounds like a lot of steps, but once you've done it a few times, it moves right along.

And it wasn't nearly as tricky as trying to take pictures of the process without assistance! (I'd like to thank my Swiffer mop for standing in as one of my hands and the box of Kleenix for providing support for my camera.)

Expectant Ferns

My ferns must know it's going to rain today. Instead of hanging in their usual places on the front porch, they are now sitting expectantly in the grass just past the overhang of the roof.

Recent Life

We've had a lot of rain here in George County so far this spring. Usually it hits about the time school is out. I took this on the way home one day last week. I liked the way the clouds looked.

Along with the gray skies, other things were graying also. I thought I'd add some unnatural highlights (mostly blond) to the natural ones (white in the very front). I ended up with a rather leopard-y look. I like it.

Yesterday was awards day for George County 8th graders. Em (and the rest of the 8th grade band members) were recognized. She is the small red head in the white shirt being dwarfed by 2 large guys. I didn't realize that she was taller than Alex (2 people to the right in the maroon jacket)!!
After the awards they went out to the football field to practice for class night. I didn't realize they would be out there for several hours and neither did Em. When I picked her up after school, she looked as if her face, arms and knees had been spray-painted magenta. She didn't feel well enough to go to the class night ceremony, so we stayed home and had pizza and home made brownies. I got this cake plate from Mr. H's mom for Christmas. I use it for just about everything we bake.

Only 2 1/2 more days of school. I know they are ready for summer. Me, too.

Home Decorating Tip

Here's a hint at my next home improvement project:

Exodus 20:3-17
and
Deuteronomy 6:9

in something that looks like this.

I'll let you know how it turns out.