Mid-May Nesting

Nesting

Out side the studio window- right beside my chair- a pair of cardinals built their nest. The manz noticed them first, and together we have watched them come and go caring for the eggs, then the hatchlings, now the young birds.  The babies have grown to the point where their eyes are open and they have feather-fuzz, happily demand constant feeding, scramble about to the point that I worry about them tumbling out of the nest.  But they seem safe and well, and we watch them from the window and prevent Turriello from being a window-stalker.  They don't seem to care about beardoggy at all as she frequently visits the bush they are nesting in (it is a favorite pooping-place)... maybe the bear-poo scares off all evil.

I am wanting to nest, but it is balanced with wanting to rest.  I think of all the cleaning that needs done, and how I want this and that fixed in a certain way- like hauling all the crap on the porch to the dump, taking up the carpet in boys old room, painting and redoing and playing in the yarden-jungle.  How I need to go through all the files on the computer and organize, delete, update.  Clean out the studio at school, scrub sinks, paint tables.  Throw away old clothes and broken shoes, shave 40 lbs off my body, scrub my mind clean of unnecessary worries.  (the manz says I worry to much about all the wrong things~ ).  I envy Melissa her new house, fresh start, cleaning and painting and arranging with a fresh slate.  Sometimes- sometimes, awful though it would be, I wish for a tornado to blow all of this away (except the manz and critters) so I could just start over.... but then I would miss some things.  We were talking about what we would save if a known disaster was headed our way (like the floods in Mississippi).  Besides us and the critters, my choice would be: the painting of Uncle Jack, the drawing by Granny, all of my sketchbooks, Lassie-dog, the copperplates, some of the family  photos (if I could find them.  Because I collect old photos/documents, I have them stored in trunks, and am not sure what is where).  Dad. The external hardrive for the computer (full of photos, papers I've written, all of our informations).  Evee (the little computer).  Everything else can go- be washed away.  Save the living, the art, the memories.  

All will be well, always