Fly, Fly Away

I get home in the evenings and part of my chores is making sure all the flowers and plants on the front porch are watered and you all know me well enough by now to know that I HATE THE HEAT.  It’s almost the end of July and I’m not gonna even try and lie, I am over that too.

Every day, I come in the house, and I know better than to sit down in that comfy recliner in my VERY air-conditioned house, because I will not want to get back up.

And then it’s a ten-minute wrestle with my conscience about just how hot was it out there today? I mean like, if I don’t water today will everything be dead tomorrow – hot, or can I skip a day and they may be wilted but they’ll survive - hot.

It doesn’t take but one glance out the glass storm door to know that NOTHING out there is going to survive without me and that water hose doing our daily dance across the front porch, sprinkling drops of the next best thing to heaven.  

However, what my husband still can’t quite seem to fathom is how I raise such a fuss about all that? How I seemingly have to moan and groan like a 12-year-old who was told to clean his room before I can begin – because those things really happen – EVERY SINGLE DAY.

All of those real-life duties, which I agreed to taking personal care of, every single time I bought a new plant, back in the excitement days; you know like BEFORE the baby gets here and you vow to do ALL the midnight feedings and change ALL the diapers – yeah, those days.

Well then why on earth do I carry on so about my watering duties; but then around 7pm, most nights without fail – I’m BACK out there on that same porch, camera in tow, sitting in that same steam bath, forehead dripping water like a faucet and sweating like a sinner in church, watching for birds?!   

I know! Crazy right?! But it’s real, I do it, and I LOVE IT. Because every night at feeding time, birds of all kinds, come from everywhere to feed, fight, and hiss at one another for a space to eat.

In particular, the last week or so, the Hummingbirds! I hadn’t seen them since the beginning of Spring, but now all of sudden they are finally back and with a vengeance. Zooming in and out, running one another off from the feeders, making them stingy little buggers besides!

I saw a black-headed looking cardinal last night, which I now know was a Bald-Headed Cardinal. I had never seen one, so of course, I’m telling my husband all about it, and before I’m done with this mystery bird – I have created a story of him being a re-located burn victim from the recent Eastpoint fires! I know - even as it was coming out of my mouth it sounded a tad/a LOT crazy!

I am positive I will never be called the Crazy Cat Lady, but Crazy Bird Lady – well that just might be a reality!