Departed hummingbirds and dead coyotes

Today I took in the last hummingbird feeder, dumped out the sugar syrup and washed it out for the last time this year. Yep, I think the hummers are gone for the season. They kind of go through this frenzy of feeding this time of year, and then vanish. A couple weeks ago, one literally got right in my face. I was watering one of the hanging flower baskets, and I heard the familiar buzz of wings, and there she was at the glass feeder. I held still, not wanting to scare her away. A foot at a time, she advanced closer, and closer...until she was about a foot from my face. Just checking me out. Here I am, 62,000 times bigger than she is, and I'm the one who blinked. It always amazes me how much attitude can be packed into such a tiny body. They'll chase wasps away from the feeders, get into aerial dogfights, or just bitch each other out with their tiny high-pitched voices. They're amazing little things, and I really miss them already.

I went out for a walk today, and noticed something I hadn't seen before. Which is surprising, because it must have been there for a long time. A dead coyote, in a state of advanced dessication, hanging by its hind foot by a wire fence. Either someone hung it there, or maybe it tried to jump the fence and got caught. Either way, a gruesome, sad sight. Anyway, I stood there in the grass by the side of the road and just stared at it. I guess an appropriate ear-worm would be 'King of Pain' by the Police.

I'm still glad I went out for that walk today, because Lord knows I needed it. After nibbling on homemade Mediterranean pizza and peanut butter brownies all today, I needed to burn off some calories. Probably still didn't burn off all of them, but it was better than sitting at home. I can tell I've done entirely too much sitting on my ass this week by the pain in my lower back and hips. Just not a healthy situation. And there's nothing better than a brisk 4-1/2 mile walk to leave behind a few worries and think up ideas.

What was I worried about? The grandparents. Again. But during that walk I decided what to do:

1. Stop being angry about the fact that mom and her sister Mary Ann had their F-word pissy falling out last summer. Yes, it's stupid and needless, but it's probably a done deal. It's their issue. (Personally, I think all three of them [Grandma, mom, and Mary Ann] ought to be locked up in a rubber room and be allowed to have a shrieking, hair/wig-pulling mother of all catfights. When it's over, bring in one or more skilled counselors and help them sort out all the childhood baggage, insecurity, jealousy and other assorted emotional/mental bullshit. But like, that's actually going to happen...)

2. Take those now free Tuesday mornings and drive up to Frankenmuth after work to visit the grandparents. I'm more than halfway to Frankenmuth anyway when I'm at the hospital. Just chat. Have breakfast with them (or bring them breakfast). But more importantly, find out what's going on, find out what can be done to alleviate the fact that their quality of life is going into the toilet fast. Run an errand, clean something up, whatever.

3. Stop looking at the situation through the antipathy of mom's relationship with her sister and mother, and just roll up my sleeves and do something, anything. Forget that I heard Mary Ann is sort of the gatekeeper and has told another family member to butt out and mind her own business where Grandma and Grandpa are concerned. There seems to be evidence that she's not on top of everything. I had some really fat, happy years when I was living with Grandma and Grandpa, and I feel a bit of an obligation now to do something for them, even though I'm not sure what that specific something might be, and I'm overwhelmed by all the little things I see when we visit up there.

I watched George W.'s speech at Wilkes-Barre P.A. today. You know, he really seems to do better in those rally type venues. He sounded good. I really enjoy his self-deprecating humor. But still, these speeches and chest thumping displays are all still nothing but preaching to the choir. Why don't they have the Democratic candidate speaking to a group of die-hard Republicans, and George W. speaking to a group of rabidly liberal Democrats?? Now that would be something to hear and see. True, the sounds of cheers and whistles are sweet to the ear whenver the appropriate pauses come. But does it really mean anything?? Why aren't they out there trying to convince the other side what they are all about? I guess trash-talking sounds better. And there's George W., declaring he will not listen to the leaders of other countries or a UN-type body when it comes to protecting the interests of the good old U. S. of A. Well, umm...that seems to be the very thing that is antagonizing other countries. I still don't give a damn what France thinks, but maybe we could soften things up just a teeny, tiny bit. I recently read an interesting article in

'Men's Health' Magazine

by a transplanted Brit, and he made a very good point about being 'freaked out' by Americans' all-consuming desire to insist that everyone really wants our way of life, even if they say they don't. Personally, I love the American Way, but it really might not be for everyone everywhere.

Anyway, it's all good and well for George W. to say he will defend America against terrorists, but there seems to be nothing ever said about the untold number of imported containers that go uninspected at all of our ports, the sieve-like border we share with Mexico, and of course the Tim McVeigh wanna-be's that might be lurking out there on our very own soil. What about the threats from all those things? Whatcha gonna do about those?

Listen to debates/speeches by John Kerry or John Edwards? Nope. Forget it. The Tall Botox Guy and the North Carolina equivalent of Michigan's own shyster lawyer Sam Bernstein, and whatever they have to say are beneath my radar. I made up my mind a long time ago.

Anyway, Tim just left for work, and I probably ought to get to bed. Orangewino, you would be proud of me today: I made a giant potato-ham-herb frittata in my cast iron skillet for dinner. We had all those peppers from mom and dad Reinert, there were some cherry tomatoes in the garden that survived the deep freeze the other night, plenty of herbs that still look good, a thawed-out ham steak from Costco, and some fingerling taters (Po-tay-toes!) in the pantry that were begging to be used up (sprouting eyes is a pretty good indication). After I got back from my walk, a glass of wine sounded good, so I popped open a bottle of Fess Parker Santa Barbara Viognier. It actually worked very well with the frittata. *Gasp* I made another decent food and wine pairing!

Oh yeah, in case anyone is still remotely interested in chocolate/champagne diamonds, I found a link to the Argyle mines in Australia:

Champagne Diamond Center