First of all, this is a caution to my friend Amy Tate:
SNAKE ! SNAKE ! SNAKE !
Do not look further !!!!!!!!!!
Ok, with that said,
Becky, you can't have it!
Here are the pictures of the little snake that decided to lay up in the butterfly bush, just off the right corner of my front porch.
He( or she), wrapped its tail around the branch and laid out along the leaves and flowers with its tongue flickering 'tasting' the air. When the hummingbirds landed just inside its reach I was sure it would snap them up.
But no, it just laid there most of the morning, and then moved down in the shrub as the day got hotter.
My sister-in-law, Jan and I were having morning coffee when she spotted it. I may never have noticed it, as it's not my habit to check the bushes for anything but flowers and birds.
I think it may have been forced upward because I weed whacked the area the day before it was noticed. I wonder how many times I have brushed a snake aside while pushing through the butterfly bushes in the yard???
Todays dog run netted yet another turtle. This one was marked 'U', and it was a male. This makes 21 turtles found and marked so far...I suppose to some this would seem a waste of time and effort, but I think of it as a treasure hunt. My nephew John and his son Adam do 'Geo caching'. It is a treasure hunt of sorts. (Look up geo caching on the web.) I suppose I could spend time trying to write something that would sell volumes and make me some money for my work, isn't that what writers are supposed to do? I suppose the worth of a writer could be measured in how many books they have sold or how much money they make or how famous their name is...
For some reason unknown to me I can't seem to get there.
I am content to write a little about my experiences on a daily basis and my encounters with nature. I don't have that drive that so many of writers I know have. I like being home, chasing turtles and snakes and tracking bears and cougars..chasing rainbows I suppose. I am drawn to the literary world and it's people and I love to read what they write. I like people, but I'm afraid I like my animals and nature more...or am I just too lazy to do the work it takes to write something worthy of an agent?
Below is the beginings of dill pickles, the dill picked from my front yard, and the cucumbers grown in old tires up by the horse area. This batch netted 4 quarts. I am running out of shelf space for my canning!!!
My husband has faith in my ability to write something of worth. My question now is what is worth? We can't all be J.K. Rowlings, or even Baldacci's, and I wonder if the joy of writing can be tainted by having to 'produce' to keep an agent or publisher happy ?
I have figured out one thing, I won't have to worry about that! Poetry is what soothes my soul , and it is said there is no money to be made in poetry.
I can smell the cinnamon walnut/raisen bread baking in my kitchen, my dogs lie about me on the floor as I type away my thoughts into nothingness. My husband is out trying to eke out a meager living, to keep our simple way of life going and I am troubled that I do not help bring in the money it takes to run a household anymore, not since I stopped hairdressing and then ruined my ability to work by getting hurt in a horse accident. He assures me this house could not run at all without me doing what I do to take care of him and everything else here on a daily basis. The truth is, I love what I do. I never was a home-body, not in all the years leading up to my mid- fortys, and now it's hard to drag me out in the world.
Sometimes I worry that I am wrapping myself in a cocoon here in the country, and I am getting too secure in this simple life.....
I'm going to eat a slice of that bread...