It is 0745 locally, but I’ve been up since oh five hundred…as for so many, sleep is desultory at best. Checked with Norwegie to make sure she didn’t want one and then slipped downstairs quietly and made myself an Early Cappuccino. Her response to my question, “Would you enjoy an early morning coffee, Bebe Bebe?” was, “What the Hell are you doing up in the middle of the night?” and she rolled over. Trixie joined me though and we eased out into the garden and dashed about in the dark looking for cats and then she had breakfast kibble and clomped back upstairs to sleep it off. Don’t know how she does it, but it sounds like there’s a horse loose in the house when she’s traveling…Gurlfren is noisy I’m sayin.
After looking up today’s horrific tally…which, I’m ashamed to admit, has numbed me to the point that it is an abstraction, a routine, and checking on the criminal gibberish from the White House, I read the day’s news of Portugal (we’re OK by comparison) and went into my shop. Our boat is coming along nicely, although I’ve made a couple of sloppy epoxy joints that look much like someone blew their nose inside the bow. Looks like boogers, but is hard as a diamond, seemingly. This stuff cures to an incredible strength and hardness, making just the simplest mistake or sloppiness represent a week of painstaking cleanup. And all the while, my son, Sheffield is keeping my WhatsApp jangling with advice on the most minute details…the lad has plenty of opinions, it seems, but I’m listening.
For the last few days, perhaps in response to the absurdity of world circumstances, I’ve built birdhouses…a tiny one for finches, a bigger one for whomever and a larger, two storey one for Mrs, Bucket. Gonna give my neighbors birdhouses; gonna give my friends birdhouses. Don’t care if they don’t want them. Gonna put a couple on trees in the waterfront promenade in Viana near one of our favorite coffee shops for the times ahead when we can actually go sit and drink coffee. Will do it guerilla style some night once we’re allowed to roam unchecked although I can see how this sort of thing could lead to stencil/spray-paint graffiti if I’m not careful. And such are the high points of life in Portugal these days.
And it’s not only me; just noticed these headlines from the Life Science Essentials site, 4,200-year-old burial of Bronze Age chieftain discovered under UK skate park. Not only is this chieftain left with his bronze dagger, four cows, a bead and “an older man in a seated position,” this poor dude is stuck under a skate park. Gotta piss him off. But even in the face of that outrage, the world kept spinning. Maybe he would take it as heartening that another old man is building birdhouses in a time of fear, a feeble response, true, but nearly as good as any other.
Washyourhands
Love you Rick.
Always love your witty words. Containment is keeping you busy at least. Happy birding.
Dear Mr. Washyourhands
I have 5 gallons of hand sanitizer in my garage. Its selling to neighbors at $9/quart but for you, first quart is free if you keep writing and building birthing homes for birds.
Love to you and Linda!
Building bird houses is such a profound yet simple good thing. Thanks Rick!