Monday, December 9, 2013

The Birdie Blog


One of the great benefits to snow and ice is the birds take a sudden and profound interest in my birdfeeders. I run out, bundled up like the Michelin man loaded up with bins and canisters of birdseed and they flit around, shrieking and calling and whistling while I load them up and feel like Cinderella in The Sound Of Music singing the The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Birdsong. For which I will receive an Oscar, weeping profusely while I cry out "You like me, you really, really like me!" to an audience of feathered creatures. Yes? No?
 
Well, they like me now when I am Source of Food Numero Uno. But I'll take it. My reward? This may be a little talked about fact, but birds Will Model for Food. So I get to tune up my camera skills and once in awhile catch something I like, really, really like.

Like this one:


I call it the The Angel and The Cardinal, which might sound kind of naughty to some, and I know who you are. Come on now, it's Christmas, clean it up! It's a hymn, don't you know?


This one:

Is Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal, which could seriously spoil everyone's fun, especially the Angels.
 
The cardinals are really fun so I have a lot of those, they are bright, active, stand out in a crowd  and can kick some serious birdie bootie:



They can also levitate, which I think is another little known fact:



Mrs. Cardinal is so over this fun party trick though once it sure sealed the deal, but if you look closely you can see that this particular ability has one little sparrow running for the statue. Scaredy cat. Yep, there he goes...

 
Now here comes a favorite - both a favorite bird, the dove, and the favorite pic so far. Because it's action and beauty with a little mystery thrown in. Or so it tells me. What does it tell you? Or do I really want to know? Hmmm...
 
 
Not to be left out, here comes another cardinal looking like the mysterious stranger who just rode into town in his many colored coat. Yes, I am mixing up characters and storylines all over the place. Why? Because I can. It's my blog. And I'm getting cabin fever and it has addled my brain, if you must know.
 
 
Now, it's almost Christmas, so let's end on that note shall we? I mean, is this photo just made for a Christmas greeting card or what???
 
 
 
Oh wait! I almost forgot. I call this one,
The One That Got Away.
And it was THIS big!
 
 

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Iced and Diced in Texas

So whew! A whirlwind fall, the weeks fly by and my poor blog has suffered extreme negligence. But now a fabulous winter storm came along and allowed me to catch up on all manner of stuff as even my arena is frozen and I have six horses left to exercise themselves as best they can, to slip and slide around frozen pastures....

So the other afternoon I wrote a little post on Facebook with a photo and had a little fun with it as a pretend commercial for a new book. I had so much fun, I continued the next morning. Then it started to get a response, and before you know it, I had photographed and written my way through a very silly, tongue in cheek romantic thriller.

So just for kicks and giggles, I thought I'd add it on here. Enjoy!

Iced and Diced in Texas
 
 



Stay tuned for my new thriller coming soon… 'Iced and Diced in Texas' !! When the north winds blow, the windows freeze over, the stew is on the stove and on the boil, anything can happen! Will the ice ever melt, the wind die down and will the stew be any good? Brace yourself and batten down the hatches - It's a fast paced thriller that will keep you guessing till the end...

 
 

The stew was fabulous but the night cold and long, and in the grey morning  light, the ice just kept coming...tap, tap, tapping on the north-facing windows like a glacial stalker begging to be let in. Dripping and draping itself in insidious icicles that rendered dreams of summer immobile and forever young, frozen in time and place...in Texas...will it ever end, she whispered, icicles clinking as they dangled from her fake eyelashes, will it ever end or will we run out of stew first!!!!?

 



The wind still howled like a thwarted witch but the stinging bite of her frozen curses (aka snow) had finally ceased it's ceaseless assault. Inside, they huddled, floor heaters blazing and PC's all fired up, their only access to the far reaches of civilization a flickering screen... But outside, in the newly minted Texas Tundra, a new subzero drama was unfolding, ruffling it's frosty feathers, readying it's sharp beak for a fresh assault. And Nature held her breath in the face of this new challenge, cloaked in glittering ice....Oh for the love of God and all his Angels, cried out the birds in the trees! Never mind the stew, will they run out of birdseed!?!!!!!
 
 
 
 
The evidence was right there in the sink, staring her in the face. He had not even bothered to cover his tracks, adding insult to injury. What had happened to their love, their promises, all their ardent oaths to share, honor and protect - forever?  Passion still burned in her veins but now it left her with a bitter and disappointed tinge... Her fake eyelashes, clotted mascara smearing and still dripping from the melting icicles, now fluttered weakly as the enormity of his betrayal hit her. There was no denying it. He had enjoyed a bowl of their precious stew without her.
 
 

Outside, Winter Storm Klingon raged but inside the little Texan Tundra farmhouse, a different storm was brewing. Within its frozen shell, a call for action had been…called . And while answering it filled her with a pain and suffering that all but blinded her as tears mixed with her cobalt mascara – his favorite, or so he had said, but now she must doubt his every word, second guess his every gesture – she knew he had left her no choice. HE had done this to them, not her. But now, though it pierced her to the very depths of her shuddering soul, it was up to her to bring this down upon them, this, their frigid, towering, turbulent hour of reckoning….


 
  Leaning on the chrysanthemum walls of their bathroom, she remembered when they picked out the color, how they had laughed, how they had loved…. Now her cobalt tears slid down the wall, a blue flood as blue as she felt…but no, this must stop. She must be strong, if not for herself then…because she had birds to feed.
She must pull herself together. She may be just a Danish mail order bride to him, but he had been her sun, her moon and stars. Ah, but words are wind, whispered her latest favorite author in her mind’s perfectly shaped little ear. Words are wind. Had all their email correspondence meant nothing to him then? She felt a migraine coming on. And God knew she could not be held responsible for her actions once a migraine clasped her in its murderous grip….



 
It was all over. She stared mutely at the glinting knife and the blood slowly coagulating on the blade, on her hands as it dripped, plink.. plink... into the creamy enameled sink. One never knows, she thought distantly, one just never knows how a day will go once you’re up and out of the feathers. The feathers, ha! Ha ha! She felt hysteria well up inside, like the bubbling cauldron of a tempestuous volcano threatening to blow. She was just so relieved it was all over. The feathers, yes, she mustn’t forget to feed the birds….the dear, freezing little things…how fragile and precious life seemed to her now, now when hers had felt all but extinguished by his callous disregard for her needs. But she was a survivor, oh yes. He knew it now, too. Oh yes. He had learned his lesson. How she loved him but he had to learn.
That hell hath no fury like a woman starved. She better get on with the stew. Confrontations made her hungry.


 It had been short but oh so sweet. Their reconciliation still sang in her blood with all the heavenly luster of a choir of angels. The Chippendale kind. Or was that Victoria’s or…oh, she was so happy, she just didn’t care. She sighed with happiness as she set the new stew to bubble on the stove, washed her hands then flopped on their bed, all but engulfed in the Texas size duvet as she clutched her stuffed, baby blue teddy bear to her chest. Her saltwater breasts rippled in ecstatic response. He had given her those, her nose and the teddy bear, too. The color of your eyes, he had whispered.
How could she ever have doubted his love? He would never leave her now, she knew that for sure, and never again would he deny her stew. They had an understanding that went bone deep and yet it reached for the heavens. Oh, the joy of it. They had crossed the bridge that spanned the gorge that had separated them, fallen into one another’s arms….He had looked so sweet on his knees, begging for reconciliation, admitting his wrongdoing…who knew the power of true love? Oh she did. Now she did. They did.

 


Smiling secretly to herself, she remembered. Her fear, her pain, her fury as she prepared to bring him to justice. She had looked her best. Texas had taught her to dress and dress big and he could never take that away from her, ice storm or no. She added a new layer of cobalt to her freshly applied eye lashes and teased her hair to new heights. She loved her new platinum blonde bangs. She slipped into her favorite fuchsia hot pants and the frilly cream blouse with all the sequins. Her favorite rhinestone bangles were next, and the belt with all the turquoise conchos. Real turquoise, mind you. After much thought, and with a nod to her distant ancestors, she slid into her lederhosen – his favorite. They fit snugly over her hot pants. It would drive him mad, she knew. And it did.
She’d clean up the mess later. Right now, she’d better go feed the birds.
The End.