About a week before we got our first low temperature, my hummingbirds were gone. This also coincided, of course, with the day I had thoroughly cleaned, made new nectar and refilled both feeders. I am constantly amazed at how Nature sends out these warning vibes and how very sensitive to nuances birds and other migrating beings are. When the hummers disappear, it's always a good thing to remove their feeders, as that is a sign that it's bear season. I've already had my feeders turned into origami, thank you.
This weekend, I went apple picking at my second-favorite orchard. Why not my very favorite? No apples. It was a tough spring this year (and tough summer), and the too-warm-too-early weather forced the blooming of apple blossoms, which were then hit with a hard freeze. My FO (favorite orchard) lost most of their apples. My SFO is further south, in Massachusetts, and their trees were laden. I was awestruck at the average size of the apples - almost the size of a grapefruit! When I mentioned this to the nice ladies in the store, they were all, "Oh, isn't it lovely? Isn't it wonderful?" And I was all, "No, I'm getting fewer apples. Large ain't always better." I didn't really say 'ain't' 'cause it ain't a word.
Which got me thinking about our love affair in this country with BIGNESS. Super-size, McMansions, giant SUVs, huge quantities of food, things, the list goes on and on. Really, now, do we need to house a family of three in a 12,000 square foot house? Do you need that 7 mpg gas-guzzler for shuttling your 8 year old to fencing practice? If you pay 7.95 for dinner, should the food be mounded up and hanging off your plate in order to be considered "worth the price"? No to all of it. All this BIGNESS is piggy-backed on this inane sense of entitlement that seems to be afflicting the populace. And I don't even want to run up that flag. (Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.) I swear, some days (like most), it seems as if this country has lost its collective mind.
On to the next musing, before I pop a blood vessel. I am trying to figure out why I am not disturbed by the metallic cacophony of the Guineas. Me - the person who gave the heave-ho to the turkeys and quail because they drove me crazy. Do these prehistoric fowl have me bewitched? Nope. It's just an oddity. I find them endlessly fascinating. They are so un-chicken-like. They travel in a tight wad - no one is left behind. If someone (naming no names, Lonesome George) IS left behind, there is endless panic and calling, and carrying-on until the tribe is united. Alas, I believe puberty is setting in, as there have been scuffles within the clan. I am always sad when everyone doesn't get along. So, obviously, I am sad alot. Which is why I do not read a newspaper, have television and mostly ignore any news source.