We quiver inside our shocked fur

I've seen a half dozen hummingbirds in the last two weeks, enticed by my prolific red bee balm, one of which hovered in the air like a little AI creation, 18 inches from my face, and I swear looked me in the eye.

Oh the dinosaur blue jays, a crow mama and teenage baby calling for peanuts, dozens of sparrows startled out of the rain-dampened grass when I open the screen door, little goldfinches with their shockingly bright feather jackets, a woodpecker diligently working on the remains of the suet (previously ravaged, loudly, by starlings). 

When I look at the garden I see the holes where we need to plant more flowers (tis the season of yellow and red — I need more blue! more purple and pink! more white!). But if I list everything in bloom I'm stunned by it all. Lucky, lucky, lucky.

Especially this past (long) weekend, when Stella and Ben visited and indulged us on an arduous canoe paddle and a wild and stormy boat ride out to Eastern Egg Rock to get a really good look at the puffins nesting there. We also spotted seals, porpoises, and many seabirds. In return, we indulged them with a perfect Red's Dairy Freeze score (4 for 4 nights). Plus there were lobster rolls, bocce, board games, an Eastern Prom food truck picnic, bubble tea, and used bookstores. And the back garden fauna was satisfying too: a rabbit* (first rabbit we've seen in our yard in 25 years); two skunks, flaunting their white-striped tails at twilight (we all yelled SKUNK!!); lots of squirrels.

Seen, but not captured on film, no matter how hard I tried:

Flashing sign at the corner of State and Congress: SNOW HAULING

Alarming the tourists since 1999:

Mark, to Ben and Stella, in line for the puffin cruise: "Did you hear about that humpback whale that flipped a boat over the other day?"

Up top we saw so many puffins!

Below deck there were bodies on the floor.

*I think it's a New England Cottontail

Both ways is the only way I want it

O April, cruelest month, with nary a word a-written! My "notes" show much grousing this month about this and that, like so:

Say what you will about astrological nonsense, but Mercury is in retrograde and so far

• Broken refrigerator (repair ETA 4/10)
• Broken willow tree 
• Second ice storm in two weeks

In related spam

Now that's all in the past, and while there are no doubt plenty of bad news that I am about to hear, May is imminent and road trips have been taken and family members visited and a whole new distracting and miraculous season is unfurling.

It's squirty ice cream season!!

Also in my "notes" this month:

Me (watching an NCAA sportsball game): "What's Iowa's mascot?"

Mark: "I don't know — a stick of butter?"

Oh to see the squirrels 

sliding down the wet bird feeder poles

In the April rain

"All roads lead toward the same blocked intersection." — Mountain Goats

"Stars without light hold the others up." — Fanny Howe

"I almost forgot my amuse bouche!" — my Mom, eating a mini Reeses peanut butter cup

And we'll not complain if it never stops at all

Minimalism in all things except reading glasses. And by that, I don't mean bejeweled frames, I mean that I apparently need a dozen pairs — in my bag, my coat pocket, in the car, in the kitchen*, bathroom**, down in the printing area, on my desk, beside my bed. Plus backups. Or maybe it's time for progressive lenses.

Okay, apparently it's going to rain for 40 days and 40 nights four days. Yesterday I divided some plants, planted some flower seeds, cleaned up some garden beds. I filled ten leaf bags with willow branches, pine needles, weeds, errant day lilies, and some leaves, then hauled them through the house*** and into the garage to keep them dry until my yard waste pickup day (Thursday). Then I'll haul them back out and put them on the curb. I've hardly made a dent in the collection of brush that expands through the year, mostly willow branches that blow down in every storm, piled behind the old playhouse (That's okay — the birds love it!). Speaking of the birds, Mark helped me move the bird feeders farther away from the pine tree in the corner of our back yard, since several squirrels recently tested their acrobatic abilities and discovered they could leap through the air from tree to feeder and suck the bird seed into their greedy mouths while hanging upside down. I don't think they can make it that far now, though I'm eager to see them try.

Can't believe the only thing I wrote in the entire month of April was this half-assed post about reading glasses and puttering in my yard , but would you get a load of these feet??

*reading recipes and labels

**tweezing and deciphering medicine bottles

***garage door — long story

There is trouble until the robins come

I regret to inform you that I found something in my back yard this morning that reminded me of the thing with teeth incident of 2016. Reader, it was a squirrel's tail with no squirrel attached to it. Now I will definitely live in fear of coming across its other body parts when I'm gardening. Mark is being way too reassuring: "No, it definitely ran off." WITHOUT ITS TAIL? IT RAN OFF TO SOMEONE ELSE'S BACK YARD, TAILLESS?

Right before I encountered the tail, I was delightedly following a butterfly, like a character in a David Lynch movie.

Compost bouquet.

A puzzle, a monster puzzle, a heavy choking, a neglected Tuesday*

I asked recently what someone's job was, made a note so I'd remember: cloud engineer. Now when I see the phrase (I wrote it on a work thing, I see it every day), I picture an adorable cartoon about a smiling young man who works overnight designing and building clouds. 

Part of my work these days involves trolling several news sites for stories and associated words that might be interesting from a vocabulary/etymology viewpoint. The stories can't be too violent or terrible, or controversial, or generally involve Israel or Tr*mp. There can't be too many Covid ones in a row, or, you know, an overload of environmental catastrophe. Adults might read this thing, but so will 12-year-olds. Hoo boy. You're generally left with a new prime minister in Samoa and a tiny computer on a snail and an upset in men's basketball.

Yesterday I watched a squirrel fall from above, abruptly, like the frogs in Magnolia. He hit the fence, tumbled head-over-tail several times, and landed in the Hostas. I seriously thought he was dead, made Mark go check, and then investigated myself this morning. There's no sign of a body, so I guess he staggered off? The plants are thick there so I'll keep looking.

It's a trick question, they're both correct.

*Gertrude Stein is making more and more sense to me lately, which may be evidence of a brain defect?

I think it is important to be quiet and in love with park benches

I like to reminisce about how our long-ago instructor in dog class never did get that our dog's name was "Bird," and called him "Bert" instead, for weeks.

I had a dream the other night about nine year old Isaac with his long blond hair and pre-braces teeth. He was a little morose, and was listening to (I think) Death Cab For Cutie through giant headphones. 

Why didn't anyone tell me about these rainbow colored squirrels in India??

Rukmini Callimachi has the most beautiful, soothing voice I've ever heard. Just imagine if you could listen to her softly telling you bedtime stories as you fell asleep, or gently narrating your directions on Google Maps. Unfortunately, the stories she tells are mainly about the Islamic State. Seriously, though, her reporting is brave and masterful, and I recommend listening to Caliphate. 

Our movements give off light

Looking so peaceful and innocent.

Dogs basking in the sun, after coming frighteningly close to catching a squirrel. The squirrel, to be fair, was teasing them, running back and forth along the top of the fence and doing death-defying leaps from fence to tree branch and back. It ended up on the ground and tore off toward the willow tree, dogs in pursuit, and I swear I saw Clover scramble up the trunk of that tree at least five or six feet off the ground, snapping at the squirrel's tail the whole time. I mean, she almost had that squirrel's tail in her mouth. She was over Gus's head. 

Hello, day after election day, things here are more good than bad, glass at least half full from where I stand. We have the first woman governor of Maine, and she is not (to my knowledge) a nasty racist. Yay!! 

Did I mention how much Gus enjoys when I fill the bird feeder with shelled sunflower seeds? The birds like it too, but Gus thinks it's an awkward treat for him, and he vacuums up all the tiny seeds he can find on the ground. For days afterward, his poop is full of sunflower seeds.

I Want a Dog Named Laika

I don't need a dog named Laika, because I've got a whole lot of dog in Mr Gus. HOWEVER, I do sometimes dream of a little sister for Gus* who would love me best.

I am thinking of taking a Book of Faces hiatus, just a week or so. It has more to do with politics and the news than anything else right now. I think it would be good for my mental health to avoid social media and even lighten my consumption of NPR for a spell.

(I keep thinking about the above idea and NOT DOING IT, which is in keeping with my adult onset, Internets-related ADD, but oh well. As my dad would say, "Squirrel?")

In other news, I should've been a kindergarten teacher because I want all the clothes with little animal prints, like this and this and this. And I prove to myself daily what a little old lady I'm becoming. E.g. I just ordered some new reading glasses online and I am pretty much beside myself with excitement.



*I've said this before, but I'm pretty sure Gus thinks of me as "that nice lady who lives with Master and me."

squirrelly

you can buy a gentleman squirrel figurine on etsy if you want to.



















and you know what would go really nicely with that? a lady squirrel!