Most of life is not nearly as photogenic as a big group of people in bright October sunshine. And so I bring you more images from our gathering of bird lovers. Or, make that... I had hoped to bring you some images. Blogger is out of its tiny harebrained mind, and has been for two days. Poor Bill of the Birds flogged his computer for a couple of hours tonight trying to get a post done. It wasn't pretty to see or to listen to...Life is much too short. I've been fighting the useless fight to post photos for two days and I ain't fighting no more.Opted instead to pot up a bunch of geraniums, lobelias, bromeliads and the like, and fill up the greenhouse in anticipation of plummeting temperatures on Wednesday night. I hauled hanging baskets of fuchsias, dripping blossoms; huge pots of bougainvilleas, blooming bromeliads, a jade tree with a trunk as thick as my arm, pots of miniature Hawaiian impatiens, a standard gardenia, a peach hibiscus, abutilons, and on and on, arranging them all on the greenhouse shelves that have sat bare all summer. I do believe that this is the first time I've conducted the big move-in before Halloween, and the first time I've done it in shirtsleeves. Better for the plants and for me to check the weather and pot stuff in warm temperatures.
Oh, how I love my greenhouse, how I love cheating Winter of its dreary victories. (a line, plagiarized from my book, so it isn't really plagiarism; it's simply uninventive.) Stocking the greenhouse was my reward after another day lashed to the drawing table, depicting flying teal and shoveling shovelers. I really like drawing birds, and it's a good thing: I've got to get 100 more drawings done before December. If you think about that, it's pretty scary, considering that I've still got to figure out what the kids are going to be for Halloween, we're hosting another largish gathering here two weeks from now, we've got a long trip to New Mexico in November, and there's a little thing I like to call Christmas right around the corner. I chip and chisel away at the mountain of work before me, repeating the mantra: "It's just work. It'll get done." So Blogger can go see Mrs. Piggle Wiggle about its problem: Slow Eater, Tiny Byte Taker.
This is the most I could get posted: half a picture of me, flanked by my personal Witches: Jen Sauter and Shila Wilson. Weird, huh? Too bad ol' Blogger chose not to depict our fabulous racks (speaking strictly for my friends here). These women have gotten me through some rough waters this year, swooping down like big birds to save me at the first peep of distress. Via phone, email, voicemail, and in person, we understand each other, reflect and most importantly, listen to each other. I truly don't know what I'd do without my several-times-weekly dose of girlpower. I go into spasms of withdrawal when either Jen or Shila are on the road. I guess that's what cellphones and wireless Internet are all about. Here's to you girls, my personal psychic EMT's. You are loved and appreciated.
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