What I've Learned from Birds

My electricity went out in my family room—the room with the only television on the first floor. My evening begins downstairs. I usually slip on something more comfortable, wash my face, and get comfortable if I’m “off duty”. If my daughter is with me (divorce calendar) I’m helping her with homework and just listening to how her day went. Regardless, I start a load of clothes, unload the dishwasher or start cooking something. Sometimes, I would just catch up with my DVR. I’m not sure how I feel about the DVR and On Demand. It almost makes one a slave to the TV, “Oh my gosh, I’m at 97%-- gotta watch the DVR this weekend…all weekend…” Really? But I’ve said and done just that.


With the electricity out in just the family room…did I mention how weird that’s it’s just out in one room? And no, there was no power outage. Anyhow, with the power out and no access to the TV and DVR, it’s been the perfect time to focus on just me. My daughter’s on vacay with extended family, so I have me all to myself. I’ve been taking an online course—more on that later—and there’s so much I’ve learned about myself on these quiet nights filled with soft music interspersed with the occasional joke or hip hop song (thank you Pandora scramble—and yes, I’m still listening).

But back to the quiet times: I’ve watched a community of birds who use my patio as their stage or shall I say my new and improved nature channel. I’m not sure that I would have been so in tune with their nuances were it not for the lack of distraction from the television. They’re fascinating!

It seems there are two males in the pack of birds and at least seven females. One male has chosen his mate. They are very sweet together, watching out for each other, gathering for their nest. He stands watch while she drinks from the bird bath (my fallen grill cover and I can’t bear to move it). Sometimes they venture in together and it’s really nice to see them together. One day, however, when he was on watch, another female landed next to him. And while I’m aware of the term “shake your tail feathers” I really didn’t know what it meant until now. This bird began to dance right in front of the male bird. His partner/girlfriend/wife, not sure what they call it in nature, flew up to observe or intimidate, again, I’m not sure. The skank…I mean other female bird made herself very big and began to hop toward the girlfriend in a very aggressive showing. The girlfriend flew away, and to his credit, so did the boyfriend. Things have escalated…stay tuned.

Regards,

Andrea

Why do I see so few Hickeys?

I wonder, as I stare at the maroon bruise on my neck, are hickeys for the youth or newly necking only (if I can use the term "newly necking)? I ponder this question as I think about the ways I used to “get rid” of them in my younger years, when I actually had them. And yes, there are a few moments that come to mind as I think about hickeys. As an adult, one would think that I would think about them differently, that it’s not a banner of shame as it was in my childhood. I’ll never forget the “necklace” Chris put around my neck (see prior post regarding the first kiss).

Chris not only provided my first kiss, but also my first hickey. It was June and thus turtlenecks were out of the question. My parents picked me up that evening, completely unsuspecting. It wasn't until the following morning that my mother spotted the "necklace".

"What's that?" she asked. I hadn't seen my neck.

"What are you talking about?" I replied.

"Go look in the mirror."

"Yikes! I thought. That's not good. "

I used that summer to research how to rid myself of these bruises. No amount of makeup, cold spoons or high collared shirts offered any relief. It seemed that the only remedy was time, and the darker the bruise, the longer it took to go away. My mother was relentless and wouldn't let me hid out at home. "Let's go, Andrea, we're going to the mall." I thought, "surely to parade me around so that people would gawk at my neck."

Since that time, I noticed the marks on other girls, and some boys and would acknowledge them as if they were the salt of the Earth, careful to maintain eye contact and not stare at the hickey.

As an adult, I don't see too many hickeys. Not on adults anyway, and I wonder anew, why this is. Maybe they had a tyrant for a mother as well (and I mean tyrant in the nicest sense of the word) and were just averse to them, maybe they don't put themselves in compromising situations, but sometimes, it's almost unavoidable, as was the little gift I received recently. I was married for 12 years and didn't have the occasion to hide hickeys. I hope marriage doesn't damper passion for everyone, but it begs the question.