While it has been a long time – almost a month – since I’ve written, it seems like I’ve been writing forever. I started this Word Press sponsored blog in 2011. A string of losses, including the deaths of two siblings and my mother all in less than two years, had made me aware of how precious – and how fleeting – our lives are. I was determined to be more conscious of the days, and the moments that make up the days, as they speed by. This blog was one way of paying attention. I know I’ve explained that before.
I have now published well over a thousand blogs, and it feels like there is nothing new to talk about. I seem to be often repeating myself. Even the photos that accompany my essays have become repetitive. The snowy landscape gives way to spring greens, followed by a march of blooms through the warm seasons, then fall colors, and snow again.
Last week, I went to refresh my morning coffee, and found a small garter snake coiled comfortably on top of a canister. That could be something to write about! Except that, over the years, I have told plenty of other snake stories. There was the bushel-basket sized mound of snakes that I found nesting comfortably under the eaves on the second floor of my house. And the snake that came out of a vent on the dashboard of my car, and rode to town with me from that location, his head out the window, like a dog. There was the time my little grandson, Patrick, was bitten by a garter snake. The time plumbers were frightened to find several large snakes coiled around my hot water heater. I’ve told all of these stories; one more seems like too much.
As it was, this little snake didn’t make for much of a story anyway. Trying to avoid capture, he went up the wall, behind a lacy curtain, onto the kitchen window sill. I was a little nervous about reaching behind the curtain to try to grab him, so I ignored the issue, and went back to what I was doing. An hour or so later, I heard a mouse trap snap. Sure enough, there was the snake, writhing around on my counter, his tail caught in the trap. I used my long tongs to pick up the trap, walked the snake outside, and released it. I kept my big dog inside, as she is a snake hunter, and the little guy went on his way, with a crook in his tail as a reminder of his adventure.
A few days later, a large tree split and came down just outside my back door. Something to write about! If the tree had fallen in another direction, it could have caused considerable damage to my house. As it is, it appears to have crushed a cherry tree (that was producing so wonderfully this year!), and laid down over my peony bed, a patch of lemon balm and my outdoor spigot. It blocks my access from front yard to back. I’m still waiting for the “tree guy” to come and take care of it.
But, again, this isn’t my first “falling tree” story. I’ve told about the time one of my big maple trees split. The large section that came down crushed my lawnmower, dented the propane tank, and trailed way beyond my yard, into the field beyond. This spring, I was finally able to break up and haul away a large section of gnarly trunk that was, for years, too heavy to move.
In the first winter I spent on Beaver Island, my husband and I struggled to keep a drafty old house warm. There was an oil furnace for back-up, but fuel oil was very expensive. The home had several wood stoves, and a fireplace in the living room. We were inexperienced and ignorant about heating with wood. We quickly burned through the small stash that was there when we moved in, then struggled to find other sources, then fought to try to generate heat with green wood. It was a constant battle.
In a winter storm that did a lot of damage, and knocked out the electricity all over the island, a large tree came down outside of our house. It toppled directly over the driveway, right where our old car was parked. From the window, my husband and I watched. The roof of the car crumpled. Windows shattered. Tires went flat. We gasped. Paused. Then looked at each other and – in unison – exclaimed, “Firewood!!”
That story makes me smile, even though I’m repeating myself!
cindyricksgers 