Table Manners

Waking up and unfolding in a hurry.

Mockers have just discovered the suet.

A co-worker stepped into my office early this morning and said, "Mary, what are you laughing about?" She fell in love with Chet Baker's face. While I watched him covet a leftover on a dinner plate, I laughed myself silly. That pepperoni lovin' boy is a smooth operator!

Seeing him at the dinner table brought to mind Bella's first birthday, nearly three years ago, and I hoped I could dig into my archives and find a folder of photos from that day. I remember walking through Target with a silly grin on my face choosing Scooby-Doo birthday hats, blowers, ice cream cups, candles, and cupcakes.

Chloe (left): Are we allowed? Doesn't matter, I'm going for it.

Bella (right): What are we doing?

Chloe: I don't care if it's her birthday, I'm getting mine and I'll eat hers, too.

Bella: What are we doing?

Chloe: Love vanilla.

Bella: I'm scared. I'm gonna get hollered at. My hat's f-f-falling off.

Chloe: You're on your own, kiddo.

Bella: But we need to use a poon.

Chloe: Just let me have it. I'll eat that, too.

Bella (background): Hey, it's my b-b-birthday. Can I play?

Over-the-top? Absurd? No, not if you know and love Boston Terriers. It's normal dog joy and five minutes of human belly laughs.

Tropical Heat Wave

Phlox welcomed Spring today!

The car thermometer read 82 degrees on the way home from work this evening. What could be better? I arrived at work at 7:05 a.m. this morning and didn’t arrive home until 6:00 p.m. but the warm weather made it bearable. (I'm having trouble with fonts tonight.)

Welcome back, Lizzie!

The first Wildlife Habitat meeting was held today in at the main campus in uptown Charlotte. There were two or three co-chairs from each of the six campuses in attendance as well as the college Grounds Supervisor, college horticulture reps, and three certified habitat stewards from the National Wildlife Federation. Most campuses had biology teachers represent them, except for our campus, who had clerical staff present. Because our campus consists of criminal justice and automotive teachers who couldn’t give a rat’s a - - about wildlife, the Dean pleaded with me and two other ladies to co-chair the effort.

The purpose of the meeting was to provide general information regarding the grant we’ve received and to provide a timeline of activities. I learned that our grant is minimal and the project will be on-going for several years. There was even mention of additional grant writing but I think the Deans should assume that one! We’ll need to rely on Partnerships for help and donations from local businesses.

What came next was actually quite funny. I sat there and listened to the biology experts poo-poo the ideas of the grounds supervisor and the grounds supervisor poo-poo the biology experts. That's to be expected, but it became very personal and the chairperson of this meeting had no control. That’s when I started pen-tapping a bit. Pen-tapping is rude and annoying but I didn’t care - it wasn't a severe case. Some reps from campuses needed to have their voices heard about their personal wishes – and let me tell you – this meeting was not intended to be all about them! Bunch of ninnies. Why do people need to blabber away about their own campus activities when it’s dinner time and they’re off the agenda? Pen-tapping, checking the clock, shifting in my seat. Maybe it’s my age and I’m less tolerant than before. Maybe after my years of experience in business situations I know more than them about efficient meetings. I wanted to shout out, “Can we paleeze stick to the agenda??? My dogs are waiting for me, I’m hungry as hell, and it’s a damned beautiful day out there!”

Several of us gave the meeting an extra twenty minutes then graciously departed!

Knowing my day would be long, I used a full lunch hour to walk the entire campus perimeter and I didn’t see one bird, except for those spooky mockingbirds that seem to be stalking me. At the end of my walk I saw a familiar couple, though.

I think Johnny has major issues. He’s the one who found himself trapped in the building on two occasions and now he’s infatuated with the Dean. He’s been sitting on her windowsill for days and pecks away at the glass. Sad. His house is only a few yards away from the Dean’s office, so I know it’s Johnny.

Millie is helpless. She just doesn’t know what to do with Johnny. She perches, watches and waits, probably wondering, “How did I hook up with that lunatic?”

Is Mary a little looney tonight? Perhaps. It’s been a long day and maybe the heat is getting to her.

Off to American Idol.

Snail's Pace

Today I’m writing about yesterday, which ranks up there with the top ten or one hundred most unmemorable days of my life. I’m remembering it now because it was so incredibly boring and kind of sad. No one died, got injured, or fell ill, but I could hardly pick my feet up off the floor and was feeling as limp as a wet dishrag. I scuffled throughout the house all day long wearing too big sweats and slippers on the wrong feet. I tried to comb a few cowlicks down on the back my crown but I gave up. I was just so lovely!

The smell of garlic and homemade Italian sauce wafting through the house woke me at 9am as Michael, the robust Italian husband, was busily frying meatballs, pork, and sausage for a two-month supply of pasta dinners. This is the only thing he can cook well, except for breakfast meals. I prefer to stay away while he’s in the kitchen because I can’t stand seeing the sauce splatters and mess. He’ll never learn to “clean as you go” like I do. This led to a lot of work in the kitchen for me throughout the day and I just didn’t have it in me, but I did the best I could do. That Emeril cookware is so darn heavy. Sigh… There was no “kicking it up a notch” for me and no “Emeril essence” on my agenda…

Walking by the family room sofa with a basket of laundry on my hip, I couldn’t help myself but to grab a few minutes in front of the TV show “Meet the Press” (boring) with the basket of soiled laundry sitting beside me. I eventually made it to the washing machine and discovered a damp load in there and a dryer full of wrinkled permanent press. “Ohhhhh….groan.” Do I have to do this? Agony.

It was a glorious day outside but I just gazed through the window watching people walk their dogs and seeing the birds sitting pretty, ready for a photo shoot. By 3pm, I hadn’t even slipped the battery into my camera. A lizard scurried across the porch and I considered running for the camera like I usually do, but thought, “Naaaaa.”

Diagnosis: Night after night, all week long, I defiantly ignored my 10pm bedtime and crashed by 11:30 instead. Five hours of sleep doesn’t cut it for me, and suddenly, on Sunday morning, I was as energetic as a drug induced snail. Seriously lackluster. I wonder if there is a hormonal change that takes place when you are over fifty that makes one turn into a night owl for the first time in your life?

Bella: I’m bored. m-m-Mommy is a drag.

Even Chloe and Bella’s googly eyes became droopy and sad looking, following me from room to room and from chair to sofa. Toward evening hours, Michael took Chloe for a nice walk in the neighborhood and I threw the hula hoop in the yard until Bella couldn’t pound her short and meaty legs anymore. We really need to exercise them or they’ll keep us awake at night and that’s not something I needed, for sure!

Chloe: You are making me tired.

Toward the end of the day, after slopping around the house for eight hours, I wanted to redeem myself in some big way. I desperately wanted to accomplish something noteworthy other than wiping kitchen countertops and folding bath towels at record slow pace. I looked at those comfy slippers that always wind up on the wrong feet. This has been a problem for two years and I thought, “Now it’s time to do something about this.” With a little “harruummph”, I hoisted myself from the chair and pulled open the kitchen junk drawer and found the perfect tool for the job. A permanent marker.

Whoaaa! I’m glad I finally took care of THAT! The day was saved. I did something I've thought about doing for a few years.


After a good, long sleep last night, I was back to chasing the scum of sparrowdom on the parking lot today. This will be a temporary and unusally horrible week at work consisting of a few ten-hour days, as the work is building to a blow-up, burn-out point. If I can post every night, I’ll be happy. If I can’t, I’ll be so bummed, but I need to hit the sack on time.

This is good for a smile: check out Susan at Lake Life. In Florida, she found a baby Osprey in a nest and had fun with toads. Sweet.

Spring Forward: Music to my Ears

As Susan Gets Native said this week, if you have dial-up, go make a sandwich. Loads of photos follow from this photo-happy person in NC.

6:45 a.m. The sound of songbirds, almost frightening. Whirling grey/white splashes – the mockers are competing for mates. Suet is being consumed feverishly. Wrens visit my deck. Pairs of house finches are investigating nests in the hanging baskets on my front porch. Goldfinches are getting brighter every day and seem to be frantic at the thistle feeder. Red Wing Blackbirds arrived, only one or two today, but it’s a welcome sight for me to see them again since I haven’t seen them visit since the summer of 2005 when I lived in Delaware. I heard Chickadees chattering. Lots of them. I realize I have talked about them incessantly in recent posts, but this is a little bird with a recognizable language that haunts me. A Carolina Chickadee will land and perch on my feeders, four feet away from my face, and, in an instant it flees, realizing there is a silly blonde lady smiling at it with a camera on her face. Are they on auto-pilot in search of food? Recently, I have started to notice that the birds don’t flee as quickly when they see me. That’s a good thing because I’ll be around them quite often for the next two seasons. We need to have a trusting relationship.

Tomorrow, the sun will set an hour later and I am so giddy about it! More daylight for walks and playing! It was warm and sunny today and I shed my jacket after I ran some errands in the morning. As you will see, it was a day I put cleaning the house on hold to enjoy outdoors. There is always tomorrow to tend to inside work, although I did manage several loads of laundry today. I'll pay for my frivolity tomorrow.

Cell phone rang: “Mom, can Mr. Biggins come over for a few hours? I have a surprise for you.” Honestly, I wasn’t in the mood for a surprise or a “three dog” house today but I reluctantly replied, “OK”.

An hour later, Sarah walked through the door with Gina, Billy, and Mr. Biggins. I was thrilled to see her again! Sarah was a roommate of Gina’s a few years ago when they lived in a small house in Wilmington. Sarah makes you smile. Born and raised in Valdese, a community located in the shadows of the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina, her heavy southern accent makes me giggle, her wide smile is contagious, and I love her. She’s a tall young woman with legs that start at my armpits. She and Gina rented the smallest bedrooms I’ve ever seen but they shared ideas on organization and made it work. Sarah is working and living in Raleigh now and I hope she visits us often.

Here’s an opportunity to smile… Dogs give relief to over-burdened souls.


While they went off to enjoy their afternoon for a few hours including lunch and a pedicure, I kept the dogs close to me and examined some work I need to do…

It took a bit of hunting around in the garage, but I found my necessary tools. The mosquitoes will need to be repelled as I’m allergic to their bites. During warm months, I smell like “Off” instead of my lovely Lancome Hypnose.

Work to do…

Pond Canna sprouting!

Hungry! I shopped for pond plants today but it’s too early to buy them. I’ll wait a few weeks and look again.

Our new camellia japonicas are bursting with color!

Lowe’s Home Store had ferns on sale today. I bought one to hide the skimmer/pump assembly on the pond.

I’ve been neglecting the ground feeders for a long time. The brave little sparrows deserve some recognition.

Chloe loves to scratch her back on a pine cone after she rips it apart.

While Gina, Mr. Biggins and Sara were getting ready to leave, I said, “Stop! A hawk!” I saw it swoop by and Sarah saw it perch. (Click to enlarge photos)

“Oooo…a blow-dry feels soooo good.” This hawk left without a meal, but there's always tomorrow...

They didn’t know Gina was blowing bubbles…


If there is one message I'd like to share with you today, it would be:

Free yourself now and then,
Throw caution to the wind,
Live for the moment,

Go for the gusto, and

Bite the bubble!

Bad Boy, Dog Toys

Take a look at this bad boy. Could be a female but I'm calling it a boy.

There’s a story behind this photo and it’s a bit embarrassing but I need to share it. While I’m writing this I’m laughing and analyzing my sanity.

This morning I attended a conference at a hotel in uptown Charlotte and on the way back to the office I saw a large, black blur of a bird to my left with its head buried in a carcass. My decision to pull over was made in a fraction of a second and I landed in a little ditch off the side of the road. It wasn’t a deep ditch but a ditch nonetheless. I knew I was safe. My 4WD SUV was leaning downwards to the right, so I had to sort of push the hatch open to slide out.

My navy pump fell off my right foot before I had both feet on the ground and it rolled under the car. Damn! On my hands and knees, off the side of the road (mental picture), I discovered that the shoe rolled down into the grassy ditch and I muttered, “bitch”.

With one shoe on and one shoe off, I climbed back into the car to move it forward enough to grab the shoe. While I was dusting off the bare foot, putting the shoe back on, and brushing the soil off my knees, I noticed two construction workers watching me across the street. Wearing their hardhats, reflective gear, and holding pipe in their hands, they stood motionless. Didn’t they have anything better to do? Were they concerned that I might be in trouble? Or were they laughing? I refused to glance that way again.

My dignity was in jeopardy, no doubt. So, I straightened my nice suit, dusted off a bit more, held my head high and proceeded to cross the street. But I had to make a u-turn because I forgot the damned camera. My coolness was sucked right out of me.

The big black blob was gone. But the carcass was there so I thought that bird might be somewhere watching me. I wandered around a bit without giving those two guys the satisfaction of my knowing they were watching me. I regret not taking their picture.

But I found the bird. Seeing a Black Vulcher fly away so near to me was incredible. I believe its wing span must have been four feet. He flew off directly into the sunlight and I lost it in the glare.

The embarrassment was worth it! But I wonder what those two men are talking about over dinner tonight…

The grocery store had a new display of summer toys so I picked up a few things for the dogs. Hula hoops, a bouncy Pooh ball, and some wonder bubbles.

I need to add that this grocery store chain bothers me. I agree with parking spaces designated for handicapped, but why on earth are there designated parking spaces for pregnant women, patrons with children, and grandparents? When I was pregnant, I walked the mile to the front entrance. And when I had a baby in the stroller, I walked the half mile in the rain. Why so many privileges these days? Do I sound a bit too nasty? I think not.

My girls love toys and must have them. Lots of them. When I held that ball up, they could hardly contain their excitement. Ready, set, GO!

Three seconds.



Seven seconds.




Chloe: “Why do you buy cheap balls?”



Bella: “Can we play b-b-bend the hula-hoop now?”

Fifty seconds of dog joy - $1.49. Not bad.



Sun setting from my front porch at 6:15 p.m. Days are getting longer!

My Daughter, Gina

A good daughter is like a good piece of writing:

Candid, lyrical, graceful, moving, alive.

I have seen a young girl walk across a room,

intent on her intense errand, and it was like seeing

a voice become visible, as if not her tongue but her

motion said, “I will do this for my life.”

Paul Engle


Seems like yesterday, she blew butterfly kisses to me through the school bus window on her way to her first day of kindergarten.

Letting go.

Senior year of high school. So young…

Always stuck to her Mom like glue, I never imagined during her first seventeen years that I was raising one heck of an independent girl. The first time the realization hit me that she was very ready to fly away was the day she boarded her first solo flight to a university, three states away, to meet the swim coach and spend the weekend with the team. I worked at the high school Gina attended. My palms were sweating the morning she left and I told the guidance counselor, who knew Gina well, how nervous I was and she replied, “Why are you biting your nails, Mary? Gina’s fine. She’s independent. You raised her that way.” I had no idea. Gina had a wonderful time during that trip and came back invigorated. Watching her board Amtrak to New Jersey for another university tour with the team nearly tore my heart out. I felt as though I’d have an out of body experience, lunging for that train with superhuman strength to hold it and her back.

Letting go.


After her high school graduation in 2000, we helped her unpack and settle into her dorm at UNC Wilmington, and in the back of my mind I always thought she’d come back home after graduation. But four years later she graduated and never came back home to live. Even if we were still living in Maryland (her true hometown) by the time she graduated from the university, I don’t think she would have returned home. Loving the beach and the college/resort town of Wilmington, Gina made it her home.

Accepting and letting go.

Having been fashioned from me, all you do –

despite your freedom –

must affect me too.

And so when we’re apart

I will always long for news from you.

Maya V. Patel

Being the sappy and sentimental Mom I am, Gina’s bedroom at our house today looks pretty much the same as it did on the day she left nearly seven years ago. We moved “her stuff” from Maryland to Delaware to North Carolina, and each time we settled in, we set up “her stuff” just the way she liked it. But I uncluttered it a bit…

Her intended major was in Marine Biology and she made that decision on the day she saw the movie “Free Willy” in middle school. Our efforts to change her mind were fruitless, of course. That major became too difficult while swimming in a Division I school, so she graduated with an Environmental degree. Job prospects for her were scarce in Wilmington so she lived near poverty level as a teacher assistant in the county school system for two school years. She traveled some rough roads along the way but she learned the high value of a “few” dollars and took good care of herself. She also knew that Mom and Dad wouldn’t let her starve!

Gina and her boyfriend Billy are living in Charlotte now! We hosted them for two months last summer while they settled in and looked for employment and an apartment. It was a pleasure having them but not during every minute of that time, though! I can’t help it if I cringe at water marks on the kitchen counter, empty drinking glasses, sets of keys and handbags left here and there, piles of laundry, etc. and the list goes on. I know I annoyed the heck out of them, too. But we made it.

During those two months, she interviewed with five companies in uptown Charlotte and received three offers. It was a heaven-sent confidence boost for her. Grace from God. Billy is a second-year electrician apprentice and found work immediately. As a former Marine with time spent in Iraq in the spring of 2003, he knows how to work hard and he’s excellently skilled. His future is very bright.

One of Gina’s most outstanding qualities is that she learns anything as fast as a finger snap, especially in the technical/scientific world (unlike her mother). She’s prospering. Lately, she’s been learning about real estate! After her moving seven times in seven years, I think it’s the right time for her to buy her own house and grow roots. We'll all grow new roots together. Things are looking up!

I’m so proud of her.

The flash reflection from the camera looks like stardust. I like it.

You go, Bean!

(and don't be mad at me for showing pictures)

Odd Day, Odd Assortment

This color is dedicated to friends farther north who haven’t seen much color except for white and brown. The winter pansies in the front of my house are getting more beautiful every day.

Because I was scurrying around like a mindless robot at the office today, I forgot to take my camera out on my lunch hour. I missed two incredible photo opportunities. The first one was a perfect airplane cloud image of “Tic Tac Toe”. The second was of a white-haired senior gentleman taking a walk on a thoroughfare juggling four or five tennis balls. I watched him walk and juggle while I was sitting at a stoplight. I wanted to clap for him.

The winds calmed down today so I walked the trail on campus and noticed the college groundskeepers are whacking away at dead scrub pines with loud saws. Now, I know the pines are a mess, but this really upsets the birds. Hmmmph.

Now this is funny. I found a sand flat with tracks. I examined them closely to find they aren’t bear tracks or deer tracks, but DOG tracks. Woo-hoo. What a thrill!

These rocks are for Lynne. I would have loved to climb down into the gulley and learn who lives under them.

This is a lifer, although I’ve probably seen them many times up north. A female red-winged blackbird. Not a good shot, but worth recording.

On my way home, I just had to stop in my neighborhood and take a quick photo of these Pink Flamingos. This decoration is so atypical around here.

This brings back memories of my husband’s native town in Dundalk, Maryland, home of Bethlehem Steel at Sparrows Point. It’s a blue-collar town, full of row homes outside of the Baltimore City limit. Every Christmas and Easter, the residents on the streets leading to Michael’s parents’ house decorated to the extreme, in competition with each other.

At Christmas, all of the homes on the rows were lit up and decorated with every decoration available at K-Mart or Walmart. It didn’t matter what the decoration was or how much room they had to include it. Fifty-foot blow-up Santas and snowmen were tied to their porch roofs. Every ornamental tree was adorned with blow-up tree ornaments. Tinsel garland hung around front fences and millions of lights were strung haphazardly.

During Easter, there were hundreds of blow-up one-story high bunnies tied to rooftops and blow-up plastic Easter Eggs were hanging from every tree and porch roof. It was a pink, green, yellow and white wonderland.

We couldn’t wait to see the glitz during those holidays! And we laughed out loud as we drove past the gaudy stuff. Terribly gaudy… Yes, we laughed like idiots on the way to Christmas and Easter dinner but we weren’t laughing at the families who lived here. It made our hearts warm to know there was ample spirit in those homes. It didn’t matter if their properties would never be photographed by Better Homes and Gardens Magazine. What mattered was how much those plastic bunnies made the children, parents, and grandparents smile. It's been a few years since I've seen the displays and I miss it.

I noticed this digital photo number is 1988. What a great year I had at age 33! I loved my thirties…

After nearly two hours of running and partying very hard with me tonight, Chloe still WANTS MORE.

Bella is ready to fall over but insists on keeping her eyes on me. Lazy sit, ey?

They never have enough. I’m irritated with them tonight, but Michael is away and I'm listening to Celine Dion and Taylor Hicks. Then, American Idol airs soon. We'll make it a good night.

Why do I blog?

The Koi and goldfish are active and ravenous, and, I heard a bullfrog practicing his vocals tonight!

Why blog?

Some have asked me, “What’s a blog?”, or, “Why are you a blogger?” The latter is a good question and one I’ve been pondering lately. Here are a few reasons I’ve given to those who asked and reasons I've analyzed.

1. I’m an empty nester, have moved to a new state twice in less than five years and I haven’t made good old friends who will listen to me ramble. My own husband, the engineer type, doesn’t listen to me, either. He sees right or wrong, black or white, and no gray area between. I often hear from him, “Just give me the facts. Just the facts.” When I attempt to expound on the beauty of it all or give mention to the why, how, or maybe in a situation, my ramble falls on deaf ears.

2. I like to write. My writing is more like “spitting it out and never looking back”, unlike most of the talented writers I have recently met in cyberspace. I’ll bet if I saw a paragraph describing a snowfall from someone in my blogging community, I’d be able to identify the writer without seeing the author’s name. The first blog I ever read was Julie’s, back in September 2006. I read her short stories, dipped into her archives, and savored every word she wrote. It took me a few weeks to get the courage to post a comment on her blog. Yes, I was very intimidated but she and Jane, Chet’s breeder, gave me a verbal kick in the butt to do it.

In the beginning…what you do

You start out by setting up your blog and putting a lot of thought into it because you want your template to reflect your personal tastes and individuality. You post your first blog entry and from then on, you continue to tweak your website until you’re satisfied with its appearance. The formidable Blogger gods beat you up with technical errors and scare you until you might reach the point of either putting your fist through the monitor or giving up on the whole damned idea.

You post nearly every day and no one comments – for a long time. Timidly, you post a comment on someone’s blog (previewing it first) and even check out their blogroll and post a comment or two for complete strangers to view. Before you know it, you are getting comments. One today, two tomorrow… It’s a surprise for you and a pleasant one, too.

Now you have people checking in to see what you are up to and you find yourself on their blogroll. For me, it’s an honor. Your own blogroll starts to lengthen and you’re happy to add new friends to it and develop good relationships with people that you have never laid eyes on. These new friends have distinct personalities and interests but all of them share a common bond with you…the desire to share parts of their lives, internal feelings, and daily activities through words and sometimes pictures.

The comments you send and receive are usually affirming and/or witty. Do you enjoy comments? Is this what keeps you blogging? My answer is a definite yes - it is a good incentive for me; however, the attraction to the commenting chatter is far from what my original plan included, though. When I decided to start this journal, I remember feeling this way,

Who cares about comments? I wouldn’t care if no one read my blog because it’s my own business, anyway. I’ll just enjoy the writing, picture-taking, and receiving the instant gratification of publishing something I made with my own pea-brain and little nimble fingers.

Sometimes, I think comments are even as entertaining as the post itself. I get a kick out of reading comments from people like Swami at Yak Herder Central. Correction: there are no others like Swami. Comments sometimes reveal the real person behind the blog and can be quite inspiring and amusing!

Giving them what they want…

For the past five months, I’ve knocked myself out, driving and running around like a crazed woman chasing hawks and standing motionless in my backyard for hours and hours, waiting for a lifer to visit my feeder. A daily dose of joy. My sometimes wacky behavior feeds my blog but it doesn’t drive it. I’ve been asked by those very close to me, “Why do you have to always post about birds? People get tired of that.” “Can’t you post about dogs more often?” “Don’t you care about your pond anymore?” “You need to start ranting more often, people like to laugh.” A very dear friend in Maryland wrote to me and said she was disappointed that I’m not reviewing American Idol shows on my blog. Well, what can I do?! That would be three posts a week about AI and no one would like that. Last year I wrote hilarious AI reviews to a lengthy list of e-mail recipients. I just can’t do that anymore because there are not enough hours in my day.

You can’t please all of the people all of the time. Sure, I want to give them what they want, but isn’t that like letting the “Tail Wag the Dog”? There is pressure to continually deliver but if I can come up with five fresh, new ideas that inspire me every week, I’ll be a happy blogger, with or without the comments. But, honestly, I’d miss my friends and their comments. I won’t lie about it.

Is this the Spring molt beginning on this little Goldfinch?