Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Mockingbird Hill Cottage

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Sunday: Reading, Deer & Sunshine

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They’re still hanging in there. Pretty good for grocery store flowers!

It’s sunny and a bit warmer today. The rest of the week will be in the fifties and yours truly is up for that. Yesterday was a strange weather day. Windy at times, never got above freezing, and for a period of time while we were at Rick and Doug’s, the sun shone through dark clouds while a magical snow squall appeared out of nowhere. Tiny little flakes swirling and swirling everywhere. It was what I call a ‘weather day’ – changing by the hour. I love that.

Both of us have been reading a lot this weekend. I’m currently more than halfway through M Train  by Patti Smith. I’m completely enthralled by her mind, her writing, and her sensibility. I was also reading The Thirst  by Jo Nesbø, but I found I wasn’t quite in the mood at the moment for this particular story, which is rather gory, so I put it down and started The Pursuit of Love  by Nancy Mitford. I bought it last year at Shakespeare and Company in Paris. The bookseller who was attending to me told me it was her favorite novel. I’ve heard that from a few others since then. As I opened it yesterday, I saw the familiar Shakespeare and Company stamp inside the front cover, and I was immediately immersed in memories of our time in Paris.

There’s something delicious about having the time to read and read and read some more. That is where we are this weekend. In between reading, we eat, we visit with friends, and we talk about what we’re reading.

So we’re here. It’s March. As I scanned the forecast this morning, I saw no real snow on the horizon. Of course, there is always a chance of a big snowfall appearing out of nowhere, but so far, so good. Fingers crossed.

Currently, there are two young deer dining on the grass right outside our back kitchen window. Since that grass is in an area that stays wet (it’s at the bottom of a hill) it’s quite green, whereas the rest of the grass around here is not. These two young ones were here yesterday as well. We’re happy they have something to eat and that they’re safe in that secluded little Secret Garden. We don’t talk when they’re out there. We barely move. Their hearing is so acute that any little sound will scare them.

Today, more reading and season 3 of Babylon Berlin, which is available on Netflix as of today. Some journaling, some laundry, for sure – it’s Sunday and that is ‘wash the sheets’ day – and a spot of cleaning,

I hope you’re having a good Sunday.

Happy Sunday.

Sunday

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I moved my dad’s first attempt at painting in oils to this wall. Just to the right is the entrance to the downstairs bathroom. I like it here. I well remember that red vase which was always on the 3 shelf built-in bookcase in our living room. I think I remember him painting it, but I can’t be sure if that’s a reliable memory. (He made that frame, as well.)

Thank you for your compassionate and kind comments on yesterday’s post. Neither of us could conceive of ignoring an animal in pain, or leaving it on a dark road to be hit again and again by motorists who drive too fast and wouldn’t see it in time. Taking some sort of action is a must. I called the County yesterday to tell them about the body. Unfortunately, I’ve had to include their number in my contact list on my phone. Between last year and this year, I’ve had to call them several times.

I’m very proud of my husband.

Today, we’re just going to hang out at home. I’m going to continue reading Jane Eyre and work on the dollhouse. Don’s practicing his guitar. It’s been a tiring and emotional week for various reasons and we just need to chill.

We’re both hoping that the arrival of Monday will get us back on track. Maybe we’ll finally know what day of the week it is!

By the way, I changed the name of The Cabin to the The Lake House. The inside looks like a cabin but the outside doesn’t. So as Don and I were sitting on the sofa last night talking about the dollhouses, I came up with the new name.

Happy Sunday.

 

Last Night

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No pretty picture today.

Last night I was sitting in my chair in the den – it was about 6:30 pm – and I heard the sound of an animal being hit. In fact, I thought it might be a dog because I heard it cry out. I got up, grabbed a flashlight, told Don about it, and walked outside down to the road. I looked about 30 feet down the road and saw a deer lying there. A car stopped and the woman inside told me it was a deer and that it was still alive and that she would call 911. I returned to the house, told Don what was happening, and he put on some shoes, took the flashlight, and walked down the road to the deer.

I remained in the house for a bit trying to figure out who to call on a Friday evening when every place was closed. It’s impossible. Don stayed with the deer, which was quite young. He used his flashlight to direct traffic around the deer. The deer kept lifting his head, but couldn’t move. So Don crouched down, kept petting him and talking to him, apologizing for what happened to him, all the while trying to figure out how to move him without making his injuries worse. And then he sang to him.

By the time I got back out there, the deer had passed away. I spoke to the deer in much the same manner as Don. Don had me direct traffic as he moved the body off the road.

You know who didn’t care enough to stop and help the deer? The driver. Just as happened a few years ago when a woman hit a fawn in front of our house, stopped to check for damage on her car, and then drove on, even when – as I discovered about 30 minutes later, the fawn was lying there on the side of the road, not more than 10 feet away. Both then and last night, one of us stayed with the deer, speaking quietly, doing everything we could to offer some compassion, waiting for someone to get there and help, only to watch as the deer passed away.

And then there was the deer that was hit right in front of our house only a month ago. Again, the driver didn’t stop.

I know that it gets pitch dark around here and that deer can appear out of nowhere. Sometimes hitting them can’t be helped, careful as one might be. What can be helped is the appalling lack of compassion in the driver who thinks it’s okay to drive away. Even if he/she drives on out of shock, perhaps some frigging compassion might cause him to rethink his decision, stop further on down the road, and turn around.

It’s been a tough year on our little stretch of road. We’ve lived here over 14 years and we’ve never seen it this bad.

Don speaks of that experience with the deer as sacred. Bless him. Bless that innocent young deer who had all too short a life.

Lambs Like to Party

Lambs Like to Party

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