Three good pictures and nothing to make of them

I woke up to rain I had listened to several times during the night.  I saw a hummingbird blob on the feeder pole (20/200 uncorrected vision!).  I took a shower and looked out my window again.  Still there.  In the kitchen to make breakfast; still there.  I went back for the camera, knowing my luck would surely run out.  I opened the kitchen slider, opened the screen.  As I took several pictures I saw three hummingbirds vying for the feeder and this guy is king of the heap.

Toby went to the vet yesterday for his first annual visit.  He is not a vocal cat.  Purrl meows adamantly to be let out; Ryon meows loudly when night falls and is positively obnoxious during the full moon, but Toby is the man of silence.  He said nothing about the carrier; a few short remarks on the car ride to the vet and not one meow thereafter.

This young man sat next to me for the Junior Ranger induction ceremony a couple of weeks ago.  There was a spider on his Croc! 

Old man tree

I went to visit Linda last week, and had my camera ready, just in case Goose had a new outfit.  But, she doesn't.

The little patch of daisies is still in bloom by the gate post, across from Goose.

Alberta’s garden is lovely.  Linda says actually it is so dense in there footing is treacherous.  Nevertheless, we had stuffed peppers and cucumbers for lunch.

But, I really had my eye on her neighbor’s tree.  I’ve wanted  its picture for some time, and Saturday was beautiful.  I went over and sat on a low wall.  The dogs of the house came over and kept me company.  A yellow lab and a black lab.  The yellow laid on my feet; the black leaned on my knee.  I think the tree was amused. 

Extreme grass

I thought you all might be interested in extreme vegetation.  This two lane road in an adjacent township was closed and gated almost twenty years ago.  Just recently it was legally abandoned and title reverted to the adjacent landowners, in this case the MetroPark and the Federal Park.  The asphalt is still under there, leaching into the water table.  I wonder if that will be rectified.  But, it certainly is a testimonial to the power of grass.

Sunny went the distance and has nothing to be ashamed of

No gold, but plenty of smiles.

I visited Linda over the weekend and saw some more plants growing through the cracks.

The rendering pot of succulents and annuals, from Linda’s second floor porch.  God bless the hens and chicks that escaped.

God bless the grass that grows thru the crack.
They roll the concrete over it to try and keep it back.
The concrete gets tired of what it has to do,
It breaks and it buckles and the grass grows thru,
And God bless the grass.

God bless the truth that fights toward the sun,
They roll the lies over it and think that it is done.
It moves through the ground and reaches for the air,
And after a while it is growing everywhere,
And God bless the grass.

God bless the grass that grows through cement.
It's green and it's tender and it's easily bent.
But after a while it lifts up its head,
For the grass is living and the stone is dead,
And God bless the grass.

God bless the grass that's gentle and low,
Its roots they are deep and its will is to grow.
And God bless the truth, the friend of the poor,
And the wild grass growing at the poor man's door,
And God bless the grass.

Malvina Reynolds

Band camp decompression

The bus returns at 5:30 and the band will put on a performance.  Said the handout to the band parents.

I left early and pulled into the school drive at 5:05, to find an ominously empty parking lot.  Then my pocket jingled and Emily texted:  We’re on the field at the middle school.

“What middle school?” I yelled at the universe, and called my sister at home.  She located it on the internet, and gave me the street names to navigate.  The first drive I encountered on the street she sent me to said Exit Only.  Way up the drive, past a jam packed parking lot, through a fence and across the running track I could see the band performing.  Beyond the band, the bleachers, the parents.

I passed the Exit Only.  The next drive would say Entrance.  There was no next drive, there was a dead end street packed on both sides with parental cars dropping of little football players.  I worked my way out, backwards, again skipping the Exit Only.  I found the entrance around another block, and surveyed the remaining two football field distances to the bleachers.  That was never going to happen.

But, I went to the fence, squoze through a gap, leaned over another wall and admired the band.  Mighty fancy footwork going on out on that field.  I knew this was one of the best high school bands in the county, but had no comprehension of the abilities of a good high school marching band.

Emily is standing on the “o”.  That’s her pony tail going right by a tuba.

I also saw a way I could snake my little car cross country, right up to the Penske truck where the luggage and tuba cases were being unloaded.  Twenty years experience driving a van to the prime load in/load out spot did not go to waste, and I slipped unobtrusively in at the head of the line as the band streamed off the field.  Just like a real parent.

Bringing a flute player home from band camp is not different than bringing a child home from camp.  I heard all about two mile marches through the town four times a day to the field.  They didn’t play in the morning or at night, it was too late to disturb the townspeople. They played and marched home for lunch and back after lunch. They learned a new dance every morning.  There was a drum off with another high school band having a band camp that week, too.

Emily’s favorite routines so far are the Macarena, the Seven Nations Army, the boxer moves, the splits.  The words just tumbled out.  She had a wonderful time, knows the names of all the girls in her section and most of the girls in woodwinds. 

“Oh, and guess what gramma!”  She texted her brother all week.  He’s going into eleventh grade and plays in the band at the old school.  She told him about all the dance routines they were learning.  “He’s jealous.  They just march!”

We were home by seven, Emily ate dinner, took a shower.  I looked in on her at eight and she was sound asleep.