Consequences of the Cold

The recent cold spell has taken a lot out of me. Combined with mourning from losing Goldie and being sad that the Red House on Fannin got rented out, I’ve been not much fun. I’m glad we will get income from the house, but it was fun fixing it up to be the Airbnb. Another failed enterprise. We’re racking them up.

I’m not going to be a part of any more joint ventures with friends and family from now on. Hold me to that. I really stink at such things, and sitting inside in the cold gave me too much time to dwell on past mistakes, knowing perfectly well that beating myself up over past errors and regrets in judgement is not productive. Learn from mistakes and move on, I’ve been repeating that.

The cold was hard on the birds I usually hang out with, too. For two days in a row I only observed a few birds on Merlin. Yesterday, it saddened me to find one of the male Barn Swallow scouts had died on the porch. I put it safely to rest and then washed my hands a lot in case he had bird flu.

The chickens and Connie made it through the cold snap by staying in their house. They didn’t stop laying eggs, though. Today they were back to normal outdoor activities and Connie finally laid a big ole turkey egg. Here it is compared to her first egg (I saved it).

Today it finally warmed up and I was able to spend my usual amount of time outside. It made a big difference, since I started the day really dragging and ended up with stories to tell Lee.

I was able to pull some burs off the equines and do more than stick food under their noses and flee. That pleased everyone but Drew, who just isn’t in a good space.

Since I was out a lot, I got to hear and see fun bird action. The Barred Owl was hooting much of the day, which is always fun. There were ducks flying around, too, at least three kinds. Of course, the sparrows, chickadees, and Cardinals entertained a lot. They all seemed glad it warmed up.

I was walking along the fence line listening to a Red-tailed Hawk making some of its weird calls when something white bounced off my head. I looked up to see all the mistletoe above me was full of round, white berries.

Did one just fall on me? No. It quickly became obvious that one of the Mockingbirds had dropped it. It hopped over to the fence then into the bush next to me, scolding me with mistletoe still in its beak. I understood that I was on his territory (must be a male, because he’d been singing earlier) and retreated with a smile on my face.

Hooray. I need my bird observation and horse time to keep me out of my funks and remind me about that living in the moment thing I’m supposed to be aiming for. Darn those polar vortexes.