(continued from above - don’t want a cat to hop on the keyboard and wipe out everything. I can tell Jake is thinking about it)
Feeding the hummingbirds was a key event, because it occurred to me that, since my hosts were away, the angry birds would have had to go next door if someone hadn’t been there to feed them. Then, I further reasoned, it had to be ME there, because most people wouldn’t have noticed the feeders were empty or taken the initiative to do something about it.
I thought, This ability to observe things that need to be done and take responsibility for them is a God-given ability that manifests His nature. “His eye is on the sparrow,” as the song says. “Que detalle, Senor, has tenido conmigo,” as the other song says, “What personal care you’ve taken with me, Lord.”
From this point, I spent the rest of Saturday morning in free-association with the Bible, and then reviewed my journals from the last year or so (two volumes) with an eye to the themes of “Let it go” and “Que detalle, Senor.” This took me through to lunchtime. (I moved inside when it got too hot on the porch.) Then I took a nap.
After my nap, I went to church, a drive of less than ten minutes in the Silver Bullet, which helpfully started. I went to Confession and made copies of the song page for the Spanish Mass. We had a recent episode of the copier’s not working Sunday morning, so now I’m anxious if I don’t get the copies made in advance. On the way home, I stopped at the grocery store and got a bottle of wine and some Cheez-its. Also some Diet Coke, so as not to drink all the wine too early!
For supper, I had leftover chicken salad, spinach, and a stir-fried zucchini with basil. I had been told to help myself to anything in the kitchen, and I found lemon-infused olive oil, from a shop in Charlotte. I used this to cook all my vegetables. Saturday evening, I finished reading “Same Kind of Different” and then looked in the shelves for something else. I found a biography of Mother Cornelia Connelly, the founder of a religious order with which our parish has a connection. Went to bed 10-ish.
Up at 6:30 again on Sunday. Not being foggy, it was uncomfortably sunny on the porch, but I moved chairs around. After prayers, I started a drawing of the sunflowers, which my hostess had requested. I stayed out there until the temperature got over 90, with breaks to fill the hummingbird feeders again and get my things together to move out. Before I left, I’d fixed the major mistakes in the picture, and I’ll finish it in the next week or so. I’ve been so busy in the last few days that my art supplies are still in the RX-7. At least they’re safe there from babies! I also finished the biography.
During the morning I got a call asking me to lead the Psalm during the Spanish Mass, so got myself over to church promptly at noon. As I picked up my perishable leftovers to put in the church’s refrigerator, Kathleen came scampering up, followed by Frank. They had noticed I was gone! After Mass, James left for Webelos camp, and the rest went to the water park in Monroe ... and then it was Monday!
What an exciting adventure! It reads like a Hemingway journal.
You must be relieved that it’s over.
Did you enjoy “Same Kind of Different As Me” ?
“His eye is on the sparrow.” Vigorously concur. Have an ongoing dialogue with our neighbor, the preacher, about The Creator's involvement with minutiae. (The sparrow doesn't think it's minutianimous. Me, neither.)
Forgive me for painting a mental picture of your confession. "I got ticked off 52 times. I thought 52 bad words."
Do you plan to photograph the sunflower drawing?
Re: tagline: I know what you mean.