Out on a Limb

The hostas have fully recovered, three years after we fenced out the deer, who thought this garden was their personal candy store. Come dormant season, we'll do some transplanting to spread them out a bit. The astilbe plants in the lower terrace are recovering, too. They all love the shade under the oaks.

It’s nice to be back home after two weeks on the road. More about that later, but for now I’ll just share my homecoming haiku:

When I first looked outside this morning, I saw a red fox trucking along the edge of the yard, apparently wrapping up his nighttime hunting expedition. He paid me no mind, although I stood less than 20 feet from him. Any day that begins with wildlife is a good day. Here is the haiku I wrote about it:

Several of us in the Ridgeline Writers group received medals in the Literary Arts division yesterday at the Cherokee/Clay Senior Games Silver Arts awards ceremony. I won gold for a fiction story, and silver in the essay and life experiences categories.

Lies and Pies was a hit last night at the Peacock Performing Arts Center in Hayesville, North Carolina. I shared my "Seagulls with a Side of Fries" story, with a twist. What an honor to be asked to present a tale alongside a wonderful roster of storytellers and musicians!

I’m “a day late and a dollar short” with this announcement. Last fall I submitted my entry, Not a Ghost of a Chance, to the Gilmer Arts Literary Anthology (in a neighboring county in north Georgia). They didn’t notify me that it was accepted, so I assumed that it was not and I forgot all about it.

Seeing the Artemis II splashdown on TV last night felt like a breath of fresh air. Newscasters focused, for the first time in months (or maybe years), on something other than politics and war.

I am partial to North Carolina’s state flower, flowering dogwood (Cornus florida).

The white oak trees behind our home produced a bumper crop of acorns last fall. I didn’t think much about it, figuring that such plenty would result in a happy and healthy gray squirrel population. When the tree leaves dropped, our asparagus patch snuggled in for the winter.

Most mornings, I pour myself a cup of coffee and then check my email, the headlines, and Facebook to see who’s having a birthday today so I can send well-wishes. Much of that routine has become grim during the troubled times in which we live.

Yesterday marked the first day of spring. Today's morning walk inspired a haiku trio to start the season out right!

During a recent checkup, my dentist said, “You’ve got great teeth.”

It’s finally over!

Jury service turned out to be a bit of a nothing burger, but still an educational experience.

Late January brought some unusually wintry conditions to our part of the country. Last week, the online weather guy warned folks to be on the alert for “fake spring,” an expression new to me.

Two envelopes arrived in my mailbox one day last week, each with a return address from local county government. The first came from the tax office, notifying me that I’d underpaid my car registration renewal by $7.75. As I opened the second envelope, from the sheriff’s office, I felt pretty sure I wouldn’t be going to jail for the error in my vehicle tag check amount.

Last weekend’s much-hyped ice storm was a dud at our house, thankfully, but it did make considerable mischief in surrounding counties. I am glad to hear that electric service is now restored to most everyone in those areas.

Our rural electric cooperative has been using a helicopter to trim trees along their powerline right-of-way in the neighborhood. My husband and I watched with fascination the rotating blades lower with surgical precision and prune branches on huge oaks, tulip poplars, and pines that line our road. The rotor-generated wind smacked our faces as we shot these photos from our driveway during last week’s subfreezing weather.