today I yelled at a nice guy just doing his job...

This guy in a county truck pulled up by my mailbox. He had a weedeater and if previous years were any indication would have taken the grass around my mailbox to the ground (to *below* ground, to be exact) - and I yelled "Hey. Hey! HEY! Don't do that! Don't do that please! I have flowers planted there!"

He looked at the dandelions and crabgrass, and said, "around your MAILbox?"

"Uh huh."

He probably thought I was delusional, but left it alone. So yesterday I pulled up the old newspaper box (we haven't subscribed to that paper in months) and pulled everything -every blade of grass, every weed- from around the mailbox in a foot in every direction, dug some nice dirt from under my compost pile and deposited about half a wheelbarrow of that around the mailbox, then transplanted a couple of the monarda that are taking over a corner of the yard. It's a start, and not only that it's a cover-my-ass see-mister-county-worker I'm-not-nuts you're-seeing-things.

weird flu bug, or something

I think if I lived a thousand years ago I'd be a doctor of some sort, because for one thing I don't get sick often, and for another I have a -what seems almost instinctive- feel for what needs to be done in case of illness or injury.

So this bug -or whatever it is I've got- took me by surprise and threw me for a loop. About a week now. First lots of coughing & scratchy throat but no achiness, no phlegm, not congestion, no sneezing or runny nose. So I thought, "maybe some strange reaction to pollen or something?" But the pharmacist didn't seem to think so and instead of trying to help me figure out what was causing it, kept shoving "treatments" into my hands. This sort of thing makes me think we're really regressing when it comes to health care. If I know what's wrong I'll know what to do about it. Stupid man. I put his suggestions back on the shelf and thought about it some more. Got a spray for sore throat (makes my mouth taste like hospital corridors smell) and some cough drops.

Thought about mold & dust, and gave the house a thorough and long-overdue cleaning. Took vitamins. Drank bourbon with lemon and sugar. Lots of it. Now the mystery ailment retreated and I decided I'd poisoned us with dust (th'Mr was coughing too) and everything would be better with a clean house, but before long it advanced again. No fever -we've checked- but lethargy and whinyness.

Two nights now I've slept sitting up. The first night it felt like I had poison ivy in my throat whenever I laid down (not itchy, just bumpy) Got to the point what came out of my nose & throat was yellow (uh oh, need antibiotics) so I shoveled the echinacea, garlic, aspirin, and vitamin C at us several times a day, plus lots of ice water, and now we're back to clear expectorations and what sounds like smokers' coughs. I can put up with this, even though I don't smoke... Sure would be nice to know what this is all about, though.

morels

I give you today's miracle:



...and doesn't there always seem to be a miracle when you look for one?

All the morels I've found have been near, or under, old apple trees, though a cousin says he finds them near poplars. Our nights have been in the forties, with frost advisories, and our days have been in the sixties.

hummingbird in my hand

We have several cats.

Earlier today the one we call Klutz-the-Silent, because whenever she opens her mouth to yell, the noise that comes out is more like "eh" than "meow", came to me and, mouth firmly shut on several green feathers sticking out to the side, made a noise something like YOOWWWLLL. I had a hint something was up.

I replied, "Klutz, let me have it," placed a hand on her back and another under her face, and she obligingly spit the hummingbird into my hand. It flopped onto its side. For the next several minutes I carried it around in the palm of my hand, cupping the other hand over it during my trips through the house from front porch to back, blowing on the feathers to urge flight, feeling the trembling in its little body and watching the eyes blink, the head turn to see the scenery passing by.





Finally my wise husband suggested, "if it won't fly away, put it in one of your hanging flower pots."

I did this, fretted about where to hang it (finally settled on a sheltered hook on the south-facing porch, next to a feeder) and ten minutes later went back out to check on it. Gone! Yahoo!