I was sitting out on my deck enjoying the quiet when Alex came out to sit. “It’s perfect out here.” I said to him as he sat down in the chair next to me. “So nice, now that the heat wave finally broke.”

He didn’t get a chance to answer before a bird landed on the railing near us. “Whoa, what is wrong with that thing?” he asked as he pushed his chair back a bit getting further away from it.

“It’s a blue jay.” I said although I could see why he was having trouble recognizing it. It’s body was the coloring of a blue jay but it’s head was completely bald.

“That doesn’t look like any blue jay I’ve ever seen.” he said when all of a sudden it cried it’s distinctive screech and flew away. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked.

“It’s just molting.” I explained. “They do that at this time of year.” I got quiet for a moment. “Do you hear that?” I asked.

Alex got quiet. “Hear what?”

“Exactly!” I said. “You don’t hear the birds as much this time of year. That’s because they go quiet for a week or two while they’re getting new feathers or getting ready for their winter migration.”

Alex looked at me, than out at the tree line of our yard. “So how come this is the first time I’m seeing a bald bird?” he asked.

“That’s a good question!” I said as I sat back further in my chair ready to explain this to him. “Most of the time they lose their feathers gradually so you’d never notice the molting. But once in a while you get one that looses all the feathers on his head at once.” I pointed in the direction of where the bald blue jay flew. “That’s when you get a bald guy like that in your yard.”

Alex thought about it for a moment. “How do you know these things.” he asked.

I had to smile. He seemed interested, so I didn’t want to lose him while I peppered him with more facts. “It’s mostly the jays and cardinals that loose their feathers like that.” I said. “But all the birds change their feeding habits in the early fall.” I looked over at where I have my bird feeder set up. “I should probably fill the feeder now that nesting is over and they’re getting ready for migration.”

Alex shook his head in confusion. “But how do you know all these things?” he asked again.

I paused for a moment before answering him. I so wanted to tell him that I’m just a wealth of information when it comes to the nature world. That I’ve been studying up on birds for years and I was ready to share this knowledge with him as we spent time together out on the back porch. But, I knew I couldn’t lie.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Until yesterday I didn’t even know birds molt.” I admitted. “But that freaky bald zombie bird landed on our deck yesterday and scared me to death!” I said. I rocked back in my chair again. “ I just Googled, bald birds, and an article about molting came up.” I looked over at him. “The migration thing was in the same article,” I shrugged my shoulders again. “Figured while I had you here you’d want to hear about that too.”

Alex got up from his chair shaking his head and laughing, “Freaky bald zombie bird.” he said, “Yeah, you’re all about nature.” he said as he walked back in the house

We had been living in our new house for over a year and yet whenever I walk by my son Alex’s room, I still see moving boxes stacked in the corner.

“When are you going to finish unpacking?” I asked for the hundredth time.

Alex shrugged his shoulders while he worked at his computer. “I don’t seem to be missing anything I need.” he answered.

“So these boxes can be thrown out?” I said hopefully.

“No.” He stopped working and turned around to look at the boxes I was standing next to. “I just need to go though them.”

“If you do it now I can help you.” I said. The hope in my voice was unavoidable.

Alex sighed and came over. “I only have about five minutes before I have to get back to work.”

I couldn’t believe my good luck. “No problem!” I cried as I ripped open the tape on the first box.

“But I don’t need any help.” he said as he showed me to the door.

I stood outside the closed door and could hear him working on unpacking. Twenty minutes later he called me to come back in. “Finished!” he said as I saw two boxes tapped shut and waiting in the middle of him room while a garbage bag, filled to overflowing, was next to it. “Garbage, attic.” he said pointing to the two piles.

I quickly looked at the garbage bag with posters sticking out of the top. “You don’t want to hang these up?” I asked as I started to pull one out.

“Nope.” he said pushing it back into the bag. “I think I’m past the poster stage.”

I looked at his bare walls and clapped my hands together gleefully. “Do you want to go out and look for some wall art?” I asked.

“Wall art?”

“You know, a painting or two.” I said as I moved around his room mentality taking in the size of frames we should be looking for.

“Paintings of what?” he asked.

“Whatever you want.” I was beginning to get even more excited, wondering what his grown up room was going to look like. “What would you call your style?” I asked. “Are you more interested in modernism, impressionism or maybe even surrealism?” I suggested. ‘“My tastes are more towards Impressionists but, I’m completely open to anything you’re interested in.”

Alex thought about it for a moment, looking around his crowded room. “I’m going to say minimalist.” he said.

I looked at all his guitars, computers, books and a ton of other stuff all over his room. “Are you kidding me, you’re the exact opposite of a minimalist!” I cried. “You’re closer to a guitar and computer hoarder!”

“But I’m going with that for my walls.” he said as he looked back at his computer. “I really have to get back to work.” he said, “My project is due at the end of the week.”

“We can go out this weekend.” I cried as he gently steered me to his door. “You might be surprised with what we find.”

“I’ve decided I’m a wall minimalist, Mom.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before slowly closing the door in my face.

“How about a mirror?” I called out, loud enough for him to hear me through the closed door. “Everyone needs a mirror!” I cried.

“I use the one in the bathroom.” he called back.

“But that only let you see from the waist up.” I called back.

“I can look down and see the rest of me.” he answered.

That stopped me for a moment. How could anyone not need a full length mirror?

It was moments like these that once again reminded me that I lived in a house with three guys. I was never going to understand how their minds worked.

I walked away shaking my head. “Wall minimalist.” I mumbled to myself. But I had to laugh at how much I loved his quick witted mind.

Friends of ours were going away for the last weekend of the summer and asked Steven and I if we would fish sit for them.

“Sure. What kind of fish is it?” I asked.

“It’s a Betta.” she answered.

“Oh, we’ve had a few of those.” I said. Glad to know it was one of the disposable kinds of fish and not a tropical high-maintenance kind. “It’ll be fun having a fish in the house again.” I said.

I wasn’t home when the fish got dropped off but I arrived soon after.

“Where do you want to keep the fish?” Steven asked. “I’ve got it in my office right now.”

“How about on the kitchen table” I suggested “It might be kind of fun to use it as a centerpiece.”

“I don’t know if that’s the best place for it.” Steven said. “You won’t be able to plug in its tank.”

“What?” I went into Steven’s office. I couldn’t believe the beautiful tank this fish was in. It had to hold at least two gallons of water and the reason it needed to be plugged in was because it had its own filtering system. Inside there was a pretty red Betta, it’s elegant long tail and fins helping it glide its way through a castle’s windows. The castle, in fish scale was about three stories tall.

“Oh my gosh, they must really love this thing.” I cried as I looked over at Steven. “Our Bettas always lived in a little bowl that held about a cup and a half of water and they swam around in a tiny circle. The only time the water got changed was when you wouldn’t see the fish anymore!”

“You might want to take better care of this one.” Steven said as he handed me the fish food along with its care instructions.
 I looked over the two types of food it needed daily. I held up the first container. “This one’s just to keep its color bright.” I said, then looked at the other container. “And this one has an added ingredient to lower any stress it might be feeling!”

“You might want to give him some of that food right now.” Steven said, pointing to the tank. “He’s looking a little stressed.”

Steven started to laugh.

“It’s not funny!” I cried. “What if we can’t keep him alive for the next week?”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Steven asked. “There should really be only one person in charge of feeding him so he doesn’t get overfed. I think that person should be you.”

“Why should it be me?”

“I didn’t want to tell you this, but when he was first dropped off I could tell right away that we weren’t going to get along.”

“What?” I looked at him, confused.

“He kept giving me bad looks.” Steven said as he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not going to take that kind of attitude from any fish.”

I looked at Steven for a moment. “That’s what you came up with so I’d have to be the one to take care of the fish?”

“Short notice.” he said “That’s all I’ve got.”

Once again I was out on my back porch first thing in the morning, enjoying my cup of tea when my son Alex came out to say, “Good morning.”

“You’re not going to believe the morning I’ve had already.” I said to him as he sat down next to me.

“Has it been good?”

“More then good!” I said in a hushed tone as I pointed to the hummingbird at the feeder. “He’s the fifth spirit animal I’ve seen this morning.”

“Spirit animal?”

“You know, when an animal comes around and does something unusual.” I explained. “It’s a way for someone who’s passed to let you know they’re thinking about you.”

Alex looked at the hummingbird, then back at me, with a confused looked on his face. “First of all, he’s a bird.”

“Still an animal.” I said.

“Second, he’s eating out of a feeder you filled with sugar water so he’d come here.” Alex looked back at me. “How’s that unusual?”

“I don’t mean when he’s eating.” I said. “He’s been landing on the railing of the deck just looking at me before he even goes near the feeder.” I explained. “That’s the unusual part.”

“He’s probably just wondering if you’d changed the sugar water lately so he doesn’t get poisoned.” Alex answered with a laugh.

“Very funny.” I looked over at the two butterflies fluttering by. They landed on the back of one of the chairs. “Now how do you explain that?” I said pointing at them. “They’ve been hovering around here all morning, too.”

Alex looked over past the deck and pointed to the Black-Eyed Susan. “Didn’t you say that butterflies love those flowers?”

“Yes, but they aren’t on the flowers.” I argued “They’re just hanging around on the deck next to me!”

Alex just nodded but didn’t say anything.

I was beginning to get frustrated that he was doubting all the visits I’d been having.

Just then a dragonfly landed on the table next to us. “There!” I cried. “He’s been around all morning and I don’t have a feeder or plant that he likes!” I said. “So that proves it!”

Alex just shook his head. “It only proves that we have a lot of things flying in our backyard and landing on our deck.”

“I can’t believe you won’t see the beauty in knowing a loved one is stopping by to see you.” I said, shaking my head in disappointment. “What animal would you have to see to finally believe someone from your past wanted you to know they were thinking about you?”

Alex didn’t take very long to think about it. “A sea turtle.” he stated.

“Wow.” I said as I thought about it. “That’s pretty rare, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one except in an aquarium.”

“No, not in an aquarium.” he corrected. “I mean if I saw one in the back yard. That’s when I’d believe someone from my past was trying to say ‘Hi’.” Alex got up to go inside but he stopped to pat me on the top of the head. “I’m a realist.” he reminded me then leaned down and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “But I do love hearing about the fantasy world you like to live in.”

As I heard the kitchen door close I couldn’t help but feel like I was seven years old again and someone had just told me there was no Santa Claus.

I still don’t believe that one either!

Steven and I were at a “Cousins Party’ and while we were sitting in the backyard catching up on the family news I couldn’t help but notice all the youngest cousins running around having fun.

I was feeling nostalgic, missing when my guys were that little as I watched the group of guys, fourth grade and younger, throwing the football to each other. Than they raced to the front of the house to play basketball before coming back to watch a game of horse shoes. They were just a whirlwind of motion. It was exactly how I remember my boys being at that age and I couldn’t help but smile.

But then I noticed the little girl cousins. They were all first grade and younger walking around the back yard each holding an umbrella to shade themselves from the sun and humming songs. I wasn’t sure what they were playing until one of them came close enough for me to peek under the umbrella. That’s when I notice the blue eye shadow all over her forehead. I looked over at her Mom, who was sitting next to me, “Is someone doing face painting?” I asked her.

“No they’re practicing putting on make-up.” she answered.

Now, I raised boys, so I missed the make-up phase.

But, I was also raised by a Mom who never wore make-up, except for some red lipstick when she wanted to feel like she’d gone to some trouble. I never even saw make-up until I was in middle school.

I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about little girls and make-up at this age. But then another one of little girls came by and I was caught off guard when I realized she’d done a pretty good job with her application. She’d chosen a pretty bold color palette but the eye make-up was where it was suppose to be and so was the lipstick and blush. I was impressed.

“She did a pretty good job.” I said to her Mom.

“She loves playing with make-up.” She answered. “She’s not allowed to go out wearing it but around the house,” she shrugged her shoulders. “What’s the harm?”

As everyone moved on to another conversation I could help but flash back to my first experience with makeup. It was middle school and it had been a nightmare!

I always wondered how those girls from middle school, who came in looking fabulous from the very first day wearing makeup, did it. They made all the rest of us look like recent graduates of Clown School. I’d always assumed they had some gift at putting it on. But now I realized it was because they’d been able to practice years before it was acceptable.

Maybe my Mom hadn’t made the right decision about the no make-up rule. Maybe I still wouldn’t be struggling with trying to get mascara on without accidentally painting my contact lens. Maybe I would know the difference between wearing eye shadow in a cat’s eye shape or a smudge. Maybe I would have cared if I’d just started earlier!

I couldn’t believe I was actually looking at a five year old at this very moment and wondering how she got her lipstick on so perfectly. I was just about to ask her if she used lip liner first when I realized: I was about to ask a FIVE year old for make-up tips!

That’s when I quickly got up from the table. “I’m going in to get a drink.” I announced. “Does anyone else want anything?”

It was first thing in the morning and I was standing out on my deck, holding a bag of peanuts. My son Alex was already outside and watched as I started to crack open a shell.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Feeding the chipmunk.” I laid the half opened nut on the deck and sat down in the the chair next to Alex, taking a sip of my tea.

“Why do you leave the shell on?” he asked.

“Because it’s so cute when he sits and nibbles on the shell until he can get to the nut.” I answered, then lowered my voice. “He’s coming…” I whispered.

Alex and I watched as he scurried over to the nut, sat and looked at us for a moment then took the nut in his little paws and began biting at the shell. When he had the nut he dropped the shell on the ground and stuffed the nut in his cheek and scurried away.

“Isn’t that the cutest thing you ever saw.” I said to Alex as I went over to pick up the empty shell and replaced it with another half opened peanut.

“How many times do you feed him?” Alex asked.

I sat back in my chair and waited for my little friend to come back. “I don’t know.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Two three times a day.” I said. I could see my little guy peeking at me through the fence. “He’s on his way back.” I whispered.

He wasn’t as cautious as he was before and instead ran straight for the peanut and began breaking open the shell.

“You know once you start feeding him you can’t stop.” Alex warned.

“Why would I stop feeding him?”

“If you forgot just one day, or we go away, he’s going to do some damage.” Alex added.

We both watched as my little chipmunk ran around the deck looking for other nuts.

“What kind of damage can a little guy like that do?” I said as we watched him jump on top of the chair next to me then up on the tabletop right next to my tea mug before jumping back down and running back to his little burrow.

“Wow! He’s getting bold.” I said as looked at my tea mug and wondered if he’d brushed against it. I decided not to take the chance and got up to go make a new cup. “Maybe I should rethink feeding him so much.” I added.

“Too late for that now.” Alex said as he pointed to the top of the stair where my little guy was now sitting and staring at us.

“You’ve had enough.” I said to him. “It’s time to go home.”

Alex looked over at the non-moving rodent. “I don’t think he wants to listen to you.”

“Maybe feeding him on the deck was a mistake.” I said as I picked up the bag of peanuts along with my tea mug and headed for the door.

“Are you thinking that now?” Alex was right behind me. As we went inside the chipmunk was right there staring at us though the glass door.

“Wow, why is it that if I’d seen him looking at me a few minutes ago I would have thought it was adorable.” I said. “Now he’s kind of creeping me out.”

“That’s because you finally realize you’ve created a monster.” Alex said over his shoulder as he headed down the hall to his room.

“How am I suppose to fix this?” I called out to him.

“I don’t know?” Alex called back. “But I’d think of something quick before he chews through the siding and you find him sitting on our counter waiting to be fed.”

I looked back at the chipmunk, who was still staring at me through the door. “You’re scaring me.” I whispered to him.

He didn’t seem to care.

Ready to scrape the leftover meatloaf from a dinner plate into the garbage, I happened to look down and saw a shiny copper penny sitting on the top of the trash. I stopped mid-scrape and reached in to pull it out.

“Did someone accidentally drop this in the trash?” I asked as I held up the penny to show my husband, Steven and our boys.

“That was me.” Max said as he put his plate on the counter. “It wasn’t by accident. It’s just a penny so I threw it away.”

“You’re throwing away money?” Steven sounded surprised.

“I was cleaning out my pockets.” Max explained, but when he looked at Steven and me with our mirrored looks of shock, I guess he felt the need to explain further. “It was only a penny!” he said. “It’s not that big a deal!”

Steven and I just looked at each other. “Where did we go wrong?” he asked me.

I had to agree with him on this because when it came to found money Steven and I had the same outlook. If you saw a quarter, dime, nickle, or even a penny, you picked it up and considered it a lucky day.

In fact, I can still remember something that happened that made me fall deeper in love with Steven when we were first dating. We were driving down the street when Steven suddenly pulled over. “I think I just saw a dollar bill blow across the street.” He jumped out of the van, ran across the street into an empty field and within moments had the bill in his hand, waving it at me as he ran back across the street. “It was a five!” he said as he climbed back in the van, a huge smile on his face. He put the five on the console before we headed back on our way. I remember picking up that five and realizing I would have done the exact same thing if I’d been the one who saw the bill tumbling across the street.

Now, whenever we’re out together, for a walk around the block or just out shopping, one of us is always looking down, ready to find the next lucky coin or bill. Over the years it’s become a game for us.

I looked back at Max and asked. “How could anyone throw money away?”

“Don’t look at me!” Alex said as he backed out of the room. “I have a change jar. All my loose change goes in there.”

“Exactly!” I looked back at Max. “You never ever throw money away!”

“Oh, come on! It’s just a penny!” Max said.

“Pennies are money too.” Steven answered.

Max looked at Steven and I shaking his head in disbelief. Then he smiled, “What if I told you I had three pennies in my pocket when I was cleaning them out?” He gave a quick laugh before he left the room.

My gasp was audible. I looked over at Steven. “Do you believe him?” I asked then looked back into the garbage pail.

“I don’t know.” Steven said as he shrugged his shoulders. “But I think I’m going to draw the line about found money when I have to dig to the garbage for it.” He too, left the room.

Leaving only me, staring into the trash wondering if I felt the same way he did.

Steven decided it was time to take me out to the golf course. I’m not sure it mattered if I wanted to go or not. I also couldn’t put up much of a fight, because we’d both been complaining that we didn’t spend enough time together. We’d been searching for some activities we could find a common interest in. Even thought I was pretty sure golf wasn’t going to be one of those interests, I was going to have to at least give it a try before I said no.

That’s how I found myself standing behind several golf cars with a golf bag strapped to my back trying on an old glove that Steven had pulled out of the bottom of his bag.

“Where’s the other glove?” I asked as another golf cart pulled up behind us.

“You only use one.” he said as he turned me around and readjusted the bag higher up on my back.

“Why aren’t we using a cart like everyone else?” My bag was already beginning to get too heavy, but I didn’t want to start the day out complaining, so I decided not to mention that.

“Plenty of people walk this course. It’s a short one and the walk is great exercise.” he explained as he handed me two golf balls and a few tees. “Put those in your pocket so you won’t waste any time searching for them when it’s your turn.”

By now we’d made it up to the front of the line. A man in a golf cart, holding a clip board, pointed to the two men sitting in a cart behind us and said. “You four are up next.”

I turned to Steven, not sure I’d heard correctly, but Steven had already turned around to introduce himself to our new friends. Of course, being the only female the men were nice enough to let me go first. I slowly walked up the stairs that led to the first hole.

“I have to let you both know I’ve never played before.” I apologized to them as I bent down and tried to poke me tee into the hard ground. Steven hand me a club and I took my first wild swing.

“You hit it!” Seven said, trying to sound encouraging as we watched it skip a few feet in front of me.

“Well, that was fun.” I said as I tucked my club back into the bag, hiking it back only my back and stepped out of the way to let the others drive their balls so far down the fairway I couldn’t see where they’d landed.

The gentlemen climbed back in their cart and drove the few feet to where by ball was. I bent over and picked it up.

“You’re not going to hit it again?” they asked.

I looked behind me, watching as another foursome was getting set up to play.

“That’s okay.” I said tucking the ball back into my pocket. “I’ll just drop the ball when we get closer to the green.”

“She’s going to work on her short game today.” Steven explained to them.

“Oh, good idea.” they said before they drove away to find their own balls.

Steven looked over at me and smiled. “It’s a beautiful day for a walk.” he said.

I tired to readjust the weight of the bag on my shoulders before I looked over and gave him a big smile in return. “It’s sure is!” I said as I began my hike, thinking about how nice it would be to be laying on the couch right now watching a re-run of just about anything on the Entertainment Channel.  

My husband, Steven and I were sitting on our porch enjoying a quiet evening. “I love dusk.” I said. “I think it’s my favorite time of day.” I leaned back in my chair, watching as some lighting bugs began to flicker in the bushes.

Steven sat beside me and swatted a mosquito off his leg. “It’s too bad that it’s the mosquito’s favorite time of day too.” he said as he brushed another one from his arm.

“Do you want me to get some bug spray for you?” I asked.

“No, I think I’ll go in before I’m eaten alive.” Steven got up, ready to head inside when something caught his eye in our back yard and he walked out there instead.

“Come here a minute.” he called to me as he looked up in the sky.

I followed him out and looked up too.

“Do you see it?” he asked.

“The bird?” I said as I watched it swooped down close to our fire pit.

“It’s not a bird. It’s a bat.” Steven said.

I instantly felt a shiver run up my back. “How can you be sure it’s a bat?” I asked.

“By the way it’s flying.”

“Isn’t it too early in the evening for them to be out?”

Steven swatted another mosquito off his leg. “Are you kidding? With all the mosquitoes around? It’s their favorite time of day too.”

I watched as the bat swooped and dove down around our bushes. Trying not to be disgusted, I thought about all the good they accomplished with pest control. “I guess it’s good to have a bat or two around.” I reasoned.

“Have you even watched how a bat’s radar works?” Steven asked.

“No. How do you test that?” I asked.

Steven leaned down, found a small rock in the grass and tossed it straight up in the air. The bat headed towards the stone and followed it straight down to the ground, inches from where I stood. I screamed, covered my head with my arms and raced for the porch. “Why did you do that?” I screamed.

“Did you see how it pulled up at the last second when it got too close to the ground?” Steven asked.

“No. I was too busy making sure the bat didn’t get tangled up in the hair!” I yelled as goose bumps popped up on my arms.

“Sorry about that.” Steven bent down and found another small rock. “I’ll toss this one further away from us.” he said.

“Please don’t!” I cried as I headed for the back door rubbing the goose bumps from the arms. “I’ve had enough bat fun for one evening.”