I'm thinking here.. she's been hanging out on the banks of the Muskoka River since practically forever, or maybe last year's April A to Z Blogfest, whatever came first. Argh – this is bugging me now. Hang on while I find out...
OK. Back. I just spent the last half an hour reading old blog posts from last April to find Delores' first comment and found myself laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of my doofussy damned door contest. Coincidentally, that's where I first had a comment from Delores: "Been browsing around your blog...love it. Thanks for dropping in on thefeatherednest."
There were TONS of other comments on that post (which makes me think I need to do another contest soon. Maybe I'll do a Damned Office Contest, as per Deanna Schrayer's suggestion) and Delores' was rather small and quiet and dignified, hardly standing out amongst the madding crowd. But you know what? Almost a year later, I rarely see some of those commenters, while Delores is a faithful and enthusiastic friend. Don't get me wrong – I'm definitely not criticizing other commenters. I know how things work. You drop by for a while, you have a nice visit, and then you're off to visit new friends or old friends or just different friends. There's not enough time in the day to visit every single blogger on your list every single day.
But Delores, she almost always drops by. I really appreciate that about her. Even when I have absolutely nothing funny, or interesting, or even cogent to say, she is there with a nice comment. (Oh please, Delores, don't feel obligated now.) Not that I'm the only blog she follows. FAR from it. Everywhere I go, Delores is there, spreading her cheerful self through the blogging world. Everyone loves her. Don't believe me? Check out one of her blogs – she gets more visitors than good-looking lifers at the penitentiary.
Delores blogs at three places: The Feathered Nest, which has insightful personal commentary, some fabulous poetry and fiction, as well as all kinds of cool stuff. On Robbie Burns Day, for example, she had photos of Woodlawn Park Cemetery where the great granddaughter of the famous Scottish bard is buried. You never know what you're going to find in Delores' fine feathered nest.
The Tormented Scribe is a tad on the spooky side. The top photo is a cemetery and there's lots of dark-edged poetry and stories and things that go bump in the night.
Delores even has a blog full of poems and stories for children. It's called Youngish and she is currently running a limerick contest where the prize is a big box of crayons! I LOVE new boxes of crayons... I may have to enter this. How about:
There once was a girl named Delores
Who gargled with spearmint Lavoris
Her breath smelled so sweet
That she leapt to her feet
And eloped with a young stud named Boris.
Annnnnnd that's why I don't write poetry, folks! I'll leave that up to Mizz Delores.
Most of my bloggy friends live a long way away, some as far as Australia. Delores is actually one of the few people who live nearby – just a couple hours in the car, as a matter of fact, in a part of southern Ontario I used to know fairly well. It would be fun to pay her a visit some day, steal a cup of coffee or two, and see what she really looks like! As you can see from the photo she sent, and the lack of last name, my friend Delores is a woman of mystery. Maybe her letter will reveal a few of her secrets ...
Here we are, half way through the first month of the New Year. It’ s a sobering thought isn’t it? How quickly time moves along. Christmas seems so long ago and so far away and yet experience tells us it will be here again long before we are ready.
The New Year stretches before us blank and exciting as an artist’s canvas waiting for that first splash of colour. How will we paint the New Year? Will we use the same old brushes, strokes and colours as last year or will we break free and try something new?
Looking back I can see there are some things I definitely want more of. Certainly I want more grandchildren time (if my body can handle it), more time holding a camera, looking at antiques and collectibles, writing poetry, watching the birds, prowling cemeteries, definitely more blogging..... Oh yes, there are things that bear repeating for sure. Some things, however, could go by the wayside. We have already taken some steps toward change for this year. One thing we have decided to cut way back on is eating out. Small changes to things that were not enhancing our lives will be made. This is our promise to each other. This year we will enlarge upon the things we know we love to do, discard the things that fail to make life better and keep ourselves open to new ideas, activities and people.
We have a few plans for refurbishing our nest this year (our feathered nest). Nothing too grandiose, just a few tweaks and improvements are required. A little paint, some trim, a new carpet will breathe life into the old house. We are blessed to have this roof , this shelter from the storms of life, over our heads.
I must say, Cathy, I have been impressed and encouraged with your success in weight loss this year. I am going to make an attempt myself. You have inspired me.
Anyway my dear, the day calls; the hectic, harried life of a retiree (lol). Important things need to be done; bathing, dressing, eating...you know the drill. It snowed last night and I want to take some pictures. Decisions need to be made about what to do with that lump of raw meat on the counter. I feel the faint flutter of a poem in the back of my mind; something about bed and rest and rise to the test, best, nest, dressed, stressed, oh well...I’ll think about it later.
I thought you might get a hoot out of this most recent photo of myself (self portrait by the artist lol). It is so typical. In most photos I am headless, or just a hand, or most likely behind the camera.
May you have a fulfilling New Year,
Bye for now,