Yes, I am a big fat weirdo who thinks of the weirdest stuff but can’t help herself so bear with me.
I could have called this blog “A Day in The Life of My Mind and Surroundings,” but that sounded boring so the mister’s sounded better.
Here we go . . .
If you don’t know, I’ll be brief, the reason I started blogging is because I was the ‘victim,’ kidding, of a blended family nearly 4 years ago. Because of this blending, I found myself with a house I couldn’t sell, now renting, and I now live with my two kids and 3 step kids in my husband’s house. His house has a huge field behind it that a hay farmer uses for those rolled up hay spirals, which sit all over the field some days. So, when you take a picture of your children on the back deck, it looks as if he and I live in the country. It’s awesome, though that is about to change since the sweet lady that lived on the property has flown to heaven and the land has been sold for houses to be built. Oh well.
Okay, now, because we have forest and a ton of land behind us, there is quite a lot of wildlife. My husband likes to call it his animal kingdom. He’s a goober, y’all, he really is. We have seen coyote, deer galore, fox, Sasquatch, oh no wait that was my ex, sorry . . . snakes, tons of birds including Mr. Pickles.
Mr. Pickles is a red-tailed gorgeous as hell hawk that lives back there in what I call the ‘back 40,’ a childhood term for land that was actually behind my house as a kid, kinda ironic. There is also a Mrs. Pickles and now Pickles Jr. but I don’t see them much. I spied him this morning while letting my dogs out before my walk.
Mr. Pickles sits majestically on the power wires or on our fence and surveys the land for prey, although here lately, Mr. Pickles has been watching me probably because every time I see him, which is really often all of a sudden, I yell out, “Oh look, it’s Mr. Pickles!” My stepson, who is often in the backyard shooting his bow and arrow, looks at me as if I am insane. He knows who Mr. Pickles is and has said to me a few times, “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t appreciate being called Mr. Pickles.”
I believe Mr. Pickles is waiting for the perfect opportunity to peck my eyes out as the name Mr. Pickles for such a majestic bird is probably ticking him off. Moreover, you are probably asking yourself why Mr. Pickles. My answer would be, I have no idea. It just came to me one day when I was walking back to our back garage and he was sitting on the fence and I suddenly yelled out, “Oh look, it’s Mr. Pickles!” I got the evil eye I think, but the name has stuck around and so has Mr. Pickles.
Moving on . . .
When I was in high school 100 years ago, I had a best friend whose dad I was very fond of. Her dad was retired military, a big ole teddy bear, and as nice as a person can be without getting walked all over. There was never a time when I would go over her house that Mr. Popkins didn’t say hi to me with his sweet smile and perhaps have a light conversation with me.
Well, as time has gone on, I have not seen my old best friend since high school, actually, we grew apart if I recall, and also in that time, Mr. Popkins lost his wife to cancer. With all of his kids grown and out of the house and his wife in heaven, he moved into a smaller house and as I found out yesterday on my walk, is fancying a widow that he has known for 25 years, as they all went to church together, and is popping up in my neighborhood here lately to the point that I thought he was living in my neighborhood. As I am coming into his/his ‘girlfriend’s’ cul-de-sac yesterday, he was just backing out, saw me, and waved me down. I was so happy, y’all. I had hoped that one day I’d run into him!
As usual, he had a huge smile for me and even said that he and his girlfriend had just been talking about me just the other day. Me? You see, sweet Mr. Popkins let me know subtly that he has never stopped keeping up with me even if it was behind the scenes for the last 30 years and that touched my heart like crazy. What a wonderful thing to know that someone still cares about you after all those years.
After we parted, I had to smile and said a little prayer of thanks that me and Mr. Popkins talked. I also prayed for him and his girlfriend that they would be happy for years to come.
Moving on . . .
As I rounded the corner coming back from my walk, I stretched, chugged some water, and then walked into the house and Mr. Probably Has Brain Damage was at it again. No, not my son, LOL!
You see there is this very confused brain damaged, I’m sure, woodpecker that has mistaken our brick and aluminum chimney for a tree. When this crazy head goes to work, it sounds like a damn machine gun coming down the chimney as he goes at it on the aluminum and it can go on and on. It scares the hell outta the dogs and they go fleeing for our bedroom and hide under the bed convinced we are under attack. I remember the first time it happened I was sitting at the kitchen table and my stepson was sitting on the couch near the chimney and the look on his face was priceless. It took us both a minute to realize what it was but once we figured it out, we both cracked the heck up.
Each day I wake up, I’m thankful for 5 things: I’m alive, my beautiful husband sleeping next to me, all of my kids, my practice, and appreciating all the weird and wonderful things that happen around me each day.
Each day is an adventure and I am so lucky and blessed to be a part of this interesting world. God had a hand in having me run into Mr. Popkins and for that, I’m so thankful. Mr. Pickles wants to peck my eyes out but I swear he is on that wire or on our fence more now since I have been talking to him, not kidding. And well, Mr. Probably Brain Damaged gives me and my stepson something to laugh about and I love that.
Find good in each day and that is your purpose on this Earth. No need to question it further.