Two posts in one day?!?

I've been thinking a lot about my friends today. I don't have many, which is funny given that I'm such a social beast. But I choose my friends wisely, which is why the very few close friends I have are so fabulous.

I've known "Curly" since I was about eleven years old. We met when we lived in the Philippines at the same time, both of our father's in the Air Force (my dad was enlisted and quite the rough type; her father was an officer - the subject of a spat or two in our younger days). We have such an incredibly close kinship. As we have grown older, we have become such incredibly different people. I think we love each other so much for the things that are different in each other, for the things we've shared as "sisters," and for which we will always remain the most dearest and special of friends.

Delia is wit incarnate. There is no better description. Good grief, we've seen some wild times with her life (mine is so incredibly vanilla by comparison). She is brilliant, passionate for things that REALLY matter (midwifery, parenting, human spirit...) and full of life in a manner that words can not adequately describe. We don't talk to each other often enough. When we do, it is the most lengthy and delightful blabberfest. We can't have a conversation that lasts less than an hour.

Deb, my beloved partner in stand up comedy. Good heavens, we can share anything. She epitomizes support, goodness and laughter. If I am ever, truly ever in a miserable mood, I know I can call Deb and be laughing in about one minute. That laughter carries me through any rough patch. Did I say she was funny? :-) Who else would let me set their bangs on fire? Or keep my children so I could flee the state for a few days? Or take me for my first trip to a spa and feel comfortable just sitting with me (and a number of indecent ladies!) in an over sized tub, or tolerate my houseful of cats with a nose full of allergies?

Harold. Does the husband count? My heart aches at the thought of my life without him. Thirty years later I'd do it all over again. OK, now I'm getting misty eyed.

This is the short list. I appreciate all of my friends, near and far, and wish everyone had a Curly, Delia, Deb and Harold in their lives.

Enjoying the little things in life

I love sitting in my living room and watching birds dance in the seeds I put out for them in a makeshift bird feeder (aka terra cotta dish on a PVC table meant for use poolside). If I am still, they hang out in large numbers for quite a while. I'm such a cheap date.

For the past two days I've observed a porker of a bird in the bowl of finch food. When the pigeons plop themselves down (and their cabooses fill the entire bowl), I have to go out and scold them for pigging out and shoo them away, but this guy is really pretty and has a beautiful song. It's quite extraordinary for us city slickers here in Southern California. I did a little digging this morning and identified it as a black-headed grosbeak. Apparently, they are referred en masse as "a gross of grosbeaks." Who makes up this stuff? Anyway, it's a pleasant departure from the zillions of crows that fly overhead every afternoon (I swear they circle the globe daily as I only see them flying northeast) or the flock of screaming, and I do mean screaming, wild parrots that call this neck of the woods home.

Who knows. Maybe the blue heron that flew in like a pterodactyl and scared the bajeebers out of me a while back will make a return visit to the wild kingdom that is my back yard. That's entertainment!