Flying Solo

As I looked out my kitchen window yesterday, I noticed a baby bird in the grass, under the big ole’ pine tree in our backyard. It appeared to have fallen out of its nest. While I looked on, its parents, a pair of common grackles, flew in and fed it. Then mama bird, or papa bird, moved back a few feet and called out. The baby bird hopped up in response, flapping its little wings. I watched in amazement at this family effort to teach the fledgling the basics of flight.

The baby grackle wasn’t the only one unfolding its wings yesterday. Earlier this week Lola announced out of the blue that she wanted her training wheels removed from her bike. She was ready to ride without them. Dressed in full-on protective gear, we set out to teach our girl how to ride. She didn’t realize it, but she caught on within seconds. Turning her bike was a little tricky though, and our little perfectionist was ready to quit when she didn’t get it right on her first try.

I remember my first bike ride. It was my sixth birthday and when I entered the living room there was a shiny red bicycle waiting for me. A friend taught me how to ride it that same day. She held on to my saddle for a minute or two and then let go. That was all there was to it. I can still picture the look of surprise on my mother’s face when I raced by. I had told Lola about this a few weeks ago, and I suspect that’s where her desire came from. But her experience wasn’t as rewarding as she thought it would be.

“I thought dad would hold on for two minutes and then it would be perfect,” she said to me, tears rolling down her cheeks.



Poor kid, blessed with her parents’ perfectionist genes. I don’t know why her first solo ride disappointed her so much she wanted to give up; it looked just about perfect to me. With a little prodding she was willing to get back on her bike and give a few more tries. And lo and behold, she did it. Racing up and down the street, she gave us a big grin. We still have to work a little bit on her right turn, but she mastered the basics yesterday.

When we returned to the house, I walked into the backyard to see how the baby grackle was getting along. He was nowhere to be found. I guess he mastered the basics, too.

Kids And Snow

At 6:30 this morning Lola was jumping around, ready to go outside because it had snowed last night, turning the world into a beautiful winter wonderland. Half an hour later she ran back inside, telling me she found deer tracks and I had to come out and take a look. It must have been a buck, according to Lola, that passed through our yard in the middle of the night. So there I was, just after 7 AM, checking out the deer tracks that look remarkably like cat paws.

Next she wanted to play with her sled. "Can I please have my sled back?" she pleaded. I had confiscated it to use in my little front porch winter styling project. I was just about to take apart my still life when I remembered we have another sled. Lola happily played with the bright orange plastic one, rattling on about unicorns and ponies.

Meanwhile I shoveled the snow from our front and back steps. We wouldn't want the plumber, who is scheduled to arrive in an hour, to slip and break something. I'll never be able to use the dishwasher then.

No More White Stuff

We decided we needed more color around the house, we are done with the white stuff up here. But since spring colors are nowhere to be found yet, we went ahead and made our own with water and a few drops of food coloring. Much better!