Chasing Butterflies

   Most of the time, "chasing butterflies" refers to attempting to do a pointless task or just frittering away time.  Then, there are those who look at things logically and figure that the phrase pertains to the act of ridding caterpillars from the garden.  In my case, it is neither.  I chase butterflies as a form of therapy or perhaps I am just a wee bit distracted by the beauty found only in the fragility of the graceful insect.  Either way, I do chase butterflies.  Son says that I am just easily entertained and that my brain allows me to find tranquility in what others seem to overlook.  Maybe?

  Yesterday morning, a lovely swallowtail butterfly flitted from bloom to bloom in the garden. It was in no hurry and seemed a bit worn and tired.  I felt a certain connection with the bug as I sort of feel the same.  I am tired and tattered but still trying to function.  There is something about the summertime heat that wears thin...give me fall and winter and I am good.  The butterfly...not so much.  I am sure it prefers this weather over the winter drear.

  Yes, I do chase butterflies.  In fact, this photograph was taken through the branches of the grapefruit tree as the creature sat placidly in the morning sun on the beautyberry bush.  I was not about to disturb the butterfly's rest after it worked hard to get breakfast.  I knew just how it felt.

Dead Tree? Brick Wall?

   I am tired, folks.  It seems that as I age, the workload increases.  Of course, a lot of that workload is nothing more than decluttering but it is taking a toll on me.  For some reason, my greenhouse became a dumping ground for anything that would not fit in Mark's shed or the storeroom.  With the coming (hopefully) of cooler weather, the greenhouse came to my attention.  I need a place for all of these potted plants. When I opened the door, egad!...I could not even step inside!  Everything from old windows to lumber had been stacked inside.  There was absolutely NO place for plants.  Yep, guess who got to clear out all of that junk...me.  For the past few days, I have been lugging stuff outdoors.  Now the yard has a mountain of stuff discarded from the greenhouse.  Personally, it could all make a complete disappearance to the dump but, the menfolk have other thoughts.  Everything hauled outside was met with "That is still good."  I am thinking that THEY need to find somewhere to put it...not me.  As long as it is not in my greenhouse, I do not care.  I am over it.

  Sometimes, folks, even in the midst of chores, you just have to take a few minutes to find a bit of enjoyment.  That happened early this morning.  I had been in the greenhouse since before daylight and was fully growling by the time the sun peaked over the pines.  Sad to say but exhaustion had already set in after only two hours of work.  It was then that I heard a familiar "laugh".  With that, it was time to grab the camera and have a bit of fun.  My friend the Pileated Woodpecker had come for breakfast.

  It is rather weird that termites have killed several of the large oak trees near the pier.  The woodpecker was treating himself to a hearty breakfast of those dratted critters.  Yes, this is a male.  An easy way to tell is to look at the face of the bird.  While both birds have a red crown, the male's extends all the way to the beak.  The female's stops about midway.  Also, the male has a bright red cheek stripe which the female lacks.  

  I love the Pileated Woodpeckers and the fact that we leave enough woods intact so they have a place to nest.  My chores were put on hold for a good half hour while I watched the one bird.  He stayed nearby for most of the morning and brought a much needed smile to my face.  It almost made me giggle aloud to think of how he rapped his head against the tree...sort of like me beating my head against a brick wall to get this place cleaned.  

Swamp Friends

   For years now, I have said that I have more critter friends than human friends.   People, in general, bother me.  No matter how much you do for them, how nice you try to be or how you try to avoid conflict, invariably, people bring it to you.  I am over it.  I am tired, folks.  I am just pure tired.  That said, I seek out the solace that only the swamps can bring.  There, I find peace as not many dare to traverse the marshes.  There, I am people-free.

  That said, I was pleased to find that an old friend came to visit.  The large, mama gator gently slid into the waters of the Bayou.  She floated just yards away as the darkness of the early morn almost shrouded her from view.  I was not frightened but rather strengthened by her presence.  I poured out my troubles to this unlikely listener.  Her unwavering attention gave me comfort.  While most would have been a mite uneasy with the huge alligator so near, I felt at peace.  My attitude was much better after our one-sided conversation as the visit made me able to face the world outside of the swamp. Sometimes confiding in someone...anyone...really helps.  I will go on.

Refocus

   With all the everyday hubbub, it is easy to lose focus on what really matters.  "Things that need to be done" can oftentimes get in the way of what "should be done".  We all get hung up in chores, duties to others and the humdrum of everyday life that we forget to keep an eye on that "should be done" which is take care of ourselves.  I know I am that way much to a fault.  Lately, I have not dedicated any time whatsoever to selfcare and my physical, as well as, mental state is taking a severe hit.  It has got to stop.

  That was the revelation that I had on the pier this morning before dawn.  The skies were just beginning to glow that glorious golden orange when I noticed a lone heron standing hunched over in the shallows near the marsh.  The bird was slightly hidden behind some tall cord grass and it took some focusing of the camera to be able to photograph the bird.  After getting my picture, I watched as the bird looked so forlorn...so forgotten.  I know herons are solitary birds meaning they prefer to be alone except when seeking a mate but this fellow did give the appearance of being lonely.  

  Pondering the bird, the difficulty focusing the camera and the forlornness of the setting, I came to the conclusion that I needed change.  I needed me.  I guess it is time to shuffle the daily workload for a while so I can get back to me.  Refocus...

Just Keep On Doing

   You know, folks, sometimes you just do.  That nasty virus has hit the Little Bayou House.  So...I just do.  I am trying my best to avoid it.  Most likely, that will be in vain, however.  It seems to spread through everybody whether precautions are taken or not.  So...I just do.  In fact, it has been double doing for the past week.  The cleaning, disinfecting, laundry, cooking, housework, yardwork, taking care of the sick, taking care of the cat...everything...just do.  Needless to say, I am tired.  Needless to say, being exhausted, the virus will probably find its way to me.  

  This morning when Bat, the cat, woke me with his gentle nose boops, I figured it was time to escape.  After my coffee and his breakfast, the cat and I headed outside...at 5am.  It was still dark when we first headed to the pier.  I welcomed his company as we sat in the cool air watching a lightning storm over the Gulf. For a cat, he makes a pretty good hiking buddy!  We sat there for nigh on an hour until it was light enough to wander the hillside.

  It was on the walk back up the pier when I was awestruck by a rather bushy weed.  In a few weeks, this bush will be covered with golden flowers but, this morning, the rising sun sent it into a golden glow.  Either I am starved for entertainment or this was a sign that I could keep going.  If a weed can survive in the marsh and look that glorious, then who am I to give in to circumstances.  I walked away from the pier feeling much better than going down it.  In life, it is all how you look at things and that weed was mighty pretty.  I will keep doing.

Naptime!

   A couple of weeks ago, I was ambitious to the point of wearing myself to a frazzle.  I had so much energy stored up due to still being in isolation...yep...still.  While the world is moving...I am stuck.  That being stuck on the Bayou led me to believe I could redo the yard and the Little Bayou House singlehandedly.  Guess what...that is stupidity at its best.  I was going from 4am to well past 10pm.  Great progress was being made until I nigh on collapsed with sheer exhaustion.  Since then, life has come to a grindingly slow pace.  It is not fun being lazy, my friends.  I am not wired that way.  Now, although my brain says "Go!", the body is like "Nope...not happenin'."  I am having to listen to the body.

  I did manage to wander the hillside again late this afternoon despite of the stifling heat.  I wanted to go back behind the greenhouse to check the wild yucca plants as there were two ten foot tall shoots that were full of buds.  I knew it was time for them to be opened and I was in hopes of getting a photograph of this marvel.  Well, I got my picture but I had to laugh.  My yucca blooms were in just about the same shape I am.  They are tired.  

  The wind and rain from the storms of a few days ago knocked both heavily bud-laden stalks over.  The two were laid neatly onto the wheelbarrow that was still left where I last worked.  I admit...I was lazy and did not retrieve the wheelbarrow.  That will wait for another day since now it is being used as a resting spot for the lovely yucca blooms.  Don't mind them.  The yucca plants will be ok...they just needed a nap!

Maybe Tomorrow...

   I am tired, folks.  Plain, old tired.  As Mom used to say, "My get up and go, got up and went."  It seems as if there is a never-ending list of chores that need to be done and there is just not enough time nor energy to do them.  With health issues and age always looming, I find myself looking at "deadlines" coming far too fast.  I am tired.  Plain, old tired.

  This morning as I sat on the pier trying to wrap my brain around the billion or so things on the agenda for today, the quote from Scarlet O'Hara in "Gone With The Wind" came settling in to stay.  "I can't think about that right now.  If I do, I will go crazy.  I'll think about that tomorrow."  Maybe I need to adopt that attitude.  I will think about it tomorrow.  In the meantime, I will sit back, enjoy the sunrise...then get the day started.

Just say "Please!"

  Usually, when the morning breaks with odd clouds, you are looking at some pretty quirky weather.  Yesterday morning, I was on the pier far before daybreak.  This is my peaceful time before the hectic pace of the day starts.  A very slight breeze made the morning air feel just about as perfect as it could get.  Overhead, clouds.  Lovely, lovely clouds.  I was in hopes those clouds would linger around a bit and then dump some rain on us as we have been quite dry lately.  Plants do far better with Mother Nature watering them than with me dragging the hose about the gardens.  I sat and contemplated the clouds.  Please rain!  Please rain.

  For the past week, I have been grubbling through a huge mess of rotted boards.  It amazes me how things get all stacked up and never thought of again.  The boards were stacked with good intentions of being used but you know what they say about those good intentions.  So, after leaving the pier, my chores began again but I kept thinking about those clouds!  For several hours, I dragged out boards and cleared the space.  About midmorning, a threatening thunderhead loomed to our north.  Please!  Within ten minutes, drops were starting to fall and I figured it was time to head inside.  Just as I got to the door, the bottom fell out and we got the most glorious rain!  Almost a full inch fell!  Then a thought...maybe if you beg those clouds enough they take pity on you!

Two Years From Society

   After the past two weeks...oh, who am I trying to fool...after the past two years, I am ready to quit being an adult and start being a kid again.  None of this has been to my liking.  I am exhausted.  Purely exhausted.  I am tired of being quarantined even though it is a self-quarantine.  I am tired of not seeing people, visiting with people and going places.  I am tired of pandemics, epidemics and illness.  I am tired of politics, arguments and ugliness. I am tired of hurricanes, termites and mosquitoes.  Yep, I am even tired of raccoons.  I am just tired.  At some point, this has gone from being a temporary situation to a permanent lifestyle and...it ain't fun, folks.

  This morning, I took a quick run to the pier before stepping into the harshness of the day.  Heavy clouds hung over the water.  It reminded me of the turmoil that I have been feeling, as of late.  Calm on the outside but not on the inside.  I need that peace again....where did it go?  I am just tired....just dog tired.

Beetle Therapy

   Earlier today, I had just about enough...enough of everything.  I was tired.  Purely exhausted, I sat down on the front steps to gather my thoughts.  Normally, I would have either headed to the pier or the woods but I was just too tired.

  While I was sitting there, I heard a small thud on the steps.  Looking down, I found a beetle.  Startled, the beetle ran off the wooden step and onto the gravel where it immediately flipped upside-down.  Well now, Beetle!  You cannot do much scurrying on your back!  A quick flick of my hand and the beetle was off and running. The thud did not seem to bother it much.  The beetle had fallen from the dying white oak tree that is right next to the steps.  I figured it had been doing its job of gnawing through the dead/dying wood and somehow made a misstep. 

  This is a Betsy Beetle.  While I am not sure about the scientific name, we always called them either Betsy Beetles or Bess Beetles.  Come to think of it, I am not sure why we did that, either.  I am sure of one thing, however.  Watching the beetle did make things seem a bit easier to handle....or maybe the ten minute rest did...not sure about even that.

Neglected Yet Thriving

   Short and sweet post tonight as I am purely exhausted.  The day was spent landscaping the side yard where Son and I just poured the concrete gutter drain that ends with Puddle Pond.  After working with concrete, the yard was a mess and needed to be revamped.  That involved transplanting approximately 200 bulbs which is long, hard work.  The end result will be worth the effort so I push through the tiredness.  Son worked on the finishing touches of the "walk-through" herb tower.  That will be a dream come true for me!

  I did take the time to admire the azaleas that have burst forth with blooms this week, I have neglected the poor bushes this entire year but they thrived regardless.  After the blooms are spent, they will get a good trimming and possibly be moved.  For now, I shall sit back and breathe in the sweet aroma and simply ooh and ahh at the loveliness.  Be happy, folks.  

Waiting for Next Year.

   Here it is December 24th and I am still pondering the decoration thing.  In fact, tonight...TONIGHT...I feel like decorating.  For the past month, Christmas felt as if it was far in the future.  It felt as if we were pushing things.  I did not decorate.  I did not buy gifts.  I did not bake.  I did not "Christmas".  Actually, I think I could have best been described as the Grinch and Scrooge all rolled into one.  I was not happy.  Health issues, the lack of family nearby and hurricanes all tend to get in the way of feelings.  That aside, I now want to pull out all of the decorations, go into a flurry of wrapping gifts and fill the house with the aroma of cookies. Well, the cookies are there and a few gifts are under the pitifully decorated, obligatory tree.  I was in a pathetic stage.

  So, my decorations sit in the old trunk awaiting to be brought out for their time to shine.  I am sorry but they will have to wait for another year.  It is too late to adorn the Little Bayou House.  Hopefully, next year will find the place filled to the brim with laughter and happiness.  Hopefully, the lights will twinkle a little brighter, the stockings will be hung by the chimney and the entire place will smell of cedar and vanilla.    Hopefully, I will be me again and will be able to do the things I so love to do.  

  Merry Christmas, folks.  May the Light shine brightly down upon this old world and bring peace, love and joy.  

MUD!

   If there is one thing frustrating about hurricane debris cleanup, it is the fact that it is dirty work.  Literally, it is dirty, nasty work.  I am not speaking of repairs here, just cleanup.  Those who do not live on the water cannot understand the extent of what needs to be done.  Ninety percent of inland cleanup is downed trees.  Here, we have everything that used to be in the Bay in our yard.  Marsh, garbage from other folks, mud, dead critters, nets and, oh, did I mention, MUD??  Now that it is a month into cleanup, things are not much better.  In fact, I would venture to say, my part is worse.  I am the "mulcher" of the debris after everything is pulled from the piles.  Great when wet, horrible when dry. We are in the midst of a drought so the mulch grinds to dust.  That fine dust makes breathing horrendously hard!  Son, on the other hand, still has mud...stinky, oozy mud.  He is dismantling the pier and salvaging what is halfway decent.  He is sloshing around in mud up to his knees to do this.  Not a fun job.

  This afternoon, I took off a few hours to work in the vegetable garden.  Those chores still have to be done regardless of how tired we may be from the other.  When I finished and came to the doorway, I saw what seemed to sum up the day's work.  Son's mud-covered shoes were sitting on the steps. He had tried washing the shoes with the water hose but the mud refused to budge.  The shoes looked weary.  We are weary.  There is no end in sight.  Tomorrow will be much the same as will every day for the next couple of months until the mountains of debris are gone, the pier is rebuilt and the yard is somewhat back to normal.  Life goes on even for those exhausted by what stands before them.  

Looking for something happy

   Usually by November we have at least some semblance of fall color going on around the Bayou.  Being this far south, our leaf colors pale in comparison of our northern states.  We are lucky to get a few maples and maybe the black gums changing before the leaves drop.  This year with Hurricane Zeta, most of those pretty leaves were ripped from the trees before they changed into their full glorious hues.  So we have to be happy with what we get...popcorn trees.  Those invasive tallow trees are the only thing even trying to brighten the woods line on the horizon.  Right now, I even miss the tallow tree near the pier.  Zeta took that one so there are no pretty red leaves in the yard other than the small, seedling camphor tree.

  It is funny how sometimes you notice things when they are not there instead of when they are.  Across the Bayou, I now realize that the red maples have gone missing.  Due to the distance, I cannot tell if Zeta just took the leaves or if the entire trees have fallen.  Such is the chaos after a storm.  Things seem different.  I seem different.  I am different.  I am tired.  Just tired.

Of Cabbages and Hurricanes!

   Mentally, it was important for me to take a few moments break from hurricane cleanup.  This is going to take several months with only Son and me doing the work.  Both mentally and physically, it is exhausting work.  Mark will be back working and won't be able to help.  Son and I will work as a team and do it but breaks now and again help us regain the gusto that will help us win.  Yesterday's break came in the form of clearing the small vegetable plot. Yes, it was still clearing hurricane debris but, at least, this had a different motive.  I wanted to check on my little plants.  Just days before Zeta hit our area, I planted broccoli, cauliflower, cabbages and mustard greens.  I was not even sure if the plants were still there or if the seeds had sprouted.  Limbs and debris totally filled the small garden.

  After removing the large limbs and some roofing from the greenhouse, I was ready to start searching for my little plants. Carefully raking between (what I thought were) the rows, I started finding plants!  Green, green plants had survived the onslaught!  It was almost overwhelming to find something living since we have been dealing with a lot of death lately in the form of dead plants and animals.  Now!  Green! 

  After my afternoon's work, I finally have the garden space somewhat cleared and I am overjoyed that only one cabbage plant was gone.  Life is good.

Just What I Needed

   The Small Gardens are a huge mess.  There has been no time to spend tidying them due to the massive amount of debris that Hurricane Zeta left in the yard.  The debris comes first as there is another storm predicted to make its way into the Gulf.  If that storm takes aim at us, the debris can become missiles and do greater damage.  So, the Small Gardens will lie in their current state until time is not so short.  It saddens me each time I pass through them to get to the task at hand.  I barely look at the wind-ravaged plants as if ignoring them may make it all go away.

  This morning, however, a tiny speck of orange peeped  out of the shambles and demanded attention.  I knelt down and carefully lifted a bit of the mess from atop the plant.  A marigold struggled to put forth a bloom even though it was broken and bent.  That tiny, twisted blossom was the most beautiful sight I have seen in a week.  Touching the flower ever so gently, I wanted to let it know that I appreciated its effort.  Then, a tiny Pearl Crescent Butterfly came to the bloom.  Even though I was just inches away, the butterfly crawled on the petals in search of nectar.  

  Suddenly, the day was a bit brighter, the work did not seem so daunting and, perhaps I was not quite as exhausted.  Life goes on...somewhat.  It is different.  It is hard.  It is tiring.  But it is life.

Every Little Bit Helps

   Cleanup after any storm is a slow, tedious process if you are wishing to salvage anything.  Stuff has to be pulled from the debris pile, checked for damage then sorted into "keep" or "toss".  We are trying to salvage our pier planks from 1100 ft of a debris line that is 4 ft deep in places.  It is not easy but every plank pulled, every section cleared is progress.  Slow progress but progress just the same.

  My main job is managing the burners so we can eliminate as much of the marsh waste as possible in as short of time as possible.  Son is pulling the pier planks and doing all of the "heavy" work.  I stack the boards to dry them,  It is a teamwork effort but we are working against the clock.  There is a good possibility that another hurricane could be in the Gulf in a few days and having that slam us with the debris still in place would mean devastation.  So, the race is on.  The work is exhausting but we cannot take a break.  

I'm Tired

   I'm tired.  I am just tired.  Ever since July and my crazy body deciding to go cattywampus on me, things have just not been right.  I am tired.  Just plain, old tired.  Even though every doctor told me that I could continue doing what I had prior, it just is not working out that way.  Perhaps they were not aware of just how much I do around here.  Most folks do not...and I guess I never really thought about it.  I just did.  Now, that is not happenin'.  I sort of overdid today by carrying 30 wet (treated) 2X6 planks from the top of the hill all the way to the end of the pier.  Yeah, it was stupid.  Yeah, it needed to be done.  Yeah, I did it.  Now, I am paying the price.  

  While on the pier earlier, I had to opportunity to just sit for a few moments and reflect on the past year.  It has been filled with far too many stressful situations.  This is not only on a worldwide level but a personal level as well.  I realized that when I am on that pier...before the sun rises...by myself, things seem to be a lot nicer.  Then, the world is peaceful.   I am peaceful. 

  I watched as Mark eased his way out from the pier in the little skiff.  Being still rather dark, he was steering the boat by memory of how the shoreline winds along from the Bayou.  It reminded me of Pop and his fishing days so many years ago.  The thought brought a smile.  Hopefully, tomorrow, being on the pier will ease the turmoil racking this old body tonight.  I sure need it.  I am just tired...too tired...bone tired.

I thought about it

  Today was Mother's Day where all mothers are to be honored and celebrated.  It should be their day off from the worries of the world but, I have got news for you...that just does not happen....especially with the uncertain times that are slapping us in the face.  Mothers worry.  Mothers fret for the safety of their children (even when they are grown).  Mothers are mothers.  We will always look out for the best interest of our kids.  Obviously, there is no "day off".  The work is just conveniently shoved to another day.  After all, who is going to pick up the slack while everyone insists she sits.  The answer...no one.  No one!  The laundry, cooking, cleaning, caring for children, tending the needs of all family members, caring for the ill, soothing bruised egos are all mom chores.  No one will pick up the slack.  Don't even think that some one else will scrub that toilet cause it ain't happenin', folks.  It ain't happenin'.

  Perhaps it was just because of this social distancing or chalk it up to a bad mood day, but this was not a favorite day of mine.  Oh, it had its bright moments since I did get to "see" (but not hug) my beautiful daughter and handsome son-in-law.  We had to keep our "6 feet distancing" since she is in the medical field and is adamant about not spreading the virus.  (I fully agree with that.)  Having them here (in the yard) for a few moments was glorious!  Another delightful moment was when Son pitched in to help home can the green beans that Mark brought home for the farmer's market.  His quirky jokes made the time go faster.   Still, I missed my oldest son, sweet daughter-in-law and grandlittles.  That huge hole in my day hurt.

  Speaking of "holes", I was tempted to crawl into one I found early this morning and just stay there.  I could ride out the day in perfect bliss hiding in the sky!  There was one break in the clouds that gave the illusion that it was an escape hatch from the worries of the world!  If only I had a ladder long enough to reach the clouds, things would have been ok.  Sometimes you just need to escape....I thought about it. It might have been a fun adventure!

 

Whew! What a job!

  Our son-in-law is an incredible ballroom dance instructor and, once each year, he hosts an event that showcases dancers.  Students, instructors and professional dancers all strut their stuff for several hours at the catered event.  It is always a sold out gala and everyone seems to enjoy themselves.  While I cannot dance, I am involved!  Mark and I head over to the venue to help decorate.  Darling Daughter always has a vision of what the place should look like and works tirelessly to create that look.  It is my job to be her helper and Mark's to usually go get things we forgot.  We spend about 7 hours on 14ft ladders putting up lights and buntings, do tablescapes and decorate the front of the stage.  Trust me, folks.  It is not an easy job but somehow, we manage to pull it all together.

  This year, I admit that I was a bit out of sorts.  The stress of things here made me almost back out of helping this year.  I am glad that I went, however, as I see now, that Elizabeth could never achieve the finished product without the "hired (unpaid) help". Even though she would give it a try and would most likely get most of it done, there just would not be the time to complete everything.  An extra set of hands is needed.  She would simply collapse from sheer exhaustion before finishing.  This evening, we are both deliriously tired but satisfied with our efforts to help Robbie pull off another successful event.  His talents, her talents and a handful of helpers' assistance really come together to be something special.