A Murder of Crows

Friday started early, just as the sky was brightening. The weather was cool rather than frigid. A light breeze blew across our deck as I kept my dog, Maggie, company as she surveyed her domain, the back yard.

I am required, by Maggie, to do this at least twice a day. Her “Watch me, Mommy, watch me!” is so reminiscent of the never-ceasing, frighteningly similar, calls I made to my father while he would accompany me to the public pool when I was eight. I am not surprised at how often I went alone. Please, no finger-shaking; I am unscathed by the experience of doing many things alone, including driving cross-country at 16. It was a different time. I demanded independence.

While I attended Her Highness, I stretched and scanned the sky. I usually hear doves cooing time of year. This day I heard the distinctive caw of a crow. And another crow. And another crow. Well, this is different, I thought. Then I saw them; six, flying in a kind of missing-man formation; soon, another crow filled in the vacant spot, and a few others joined in. Crows flying in formation? Who knew? Certainly not I. Then I remembered that a group of crows is called a murder.  How cool is that? And how poetic?

It was an auspicious beginnig to a glorious, sunny day.  Sublime.  And then Maggie (AKA Devil Dog) begins to bark.  "Shh!  Maggie, people are sleeping" I implore her.  No go.  I'm not sure she understands any English words but dinner, breakfast, treat, and walk. 

She bounds on her short legs to the corner of our yard, woofing all the way.  What an embarrassment!  Then I see them, just outside the fence; a pair of deer.  Maggie's reputation has obviously proceeded her, because they glanced her way, then continued their leisurely stroll through the neighborhood.

A VERY good morning.

Once again, I am a harbinger of future Baby-boom trends. For those of you have known me a looong time, you know that I am often just barely on the leading edge of things. For those of you who do not know me; here’s a partial list:


I collected unicorns and flamingos a year or two before they were everywhere. When I started, they were almost impossible to find. I stopped collecting (really, what’s the point if you can find your collection in a Hallmark store or Wal-Mart? While I’m on the subject of collecting, generally, please be careful when adding to another person’s collection. In many cases, the fun is the collecting, not the having.

I read Tai-Pan in the late 60’s (I was 13 or 14) and became aware that sometime around 1980 China was going to bring Hong Kong back into her bosom.  I became enamored with all things Asian; fabric, art, religion…I Ching, anyone? Feng shui principles have prodded me, occasionally, to worry about having a home on the dragon’s eyeball or placing a mirror where it will reflect all my good luck back out the door or window.

Because I always want to be unique, these kinds of things eventually bother the heck out of me. Enough!

Recently I have been over-sharing my love of a Canadian poet, Leonard Cohen. My first really romantic moment came when a young man with the most beautiful hair serenaded me with Cohen’s song, Suzanne. I didn’t know it was Cohen’s until a few years ago. I learned it, and then forgot it. I make an effort to keep my RAM uncluttered so I can access information I need quickly. (At this point you are allowed to ask, “So, how’s that workin’ out for you?” because it isn’t). I have emailed the link, http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3rwo0_leonard-cohen-hallelujah_music , to everyone I can think might enjoy my new-found love; his song, Hallelujah. I KNOW it’s old, but it had not surfaced in the pool of my thoughts until about a year ago.

So, here, if you haven’t figured out the punch line yet, is the most recent example of my harbingering…k d lang sang the song during the opening of the Olympics. REALLY. She sang the heck out of it, too, which must be as hard as singing The Star Spangled Banner at a World Series or Superbowl game because of all the noise.

I’m just saying…it’s a great song and now billions of other folks can jump on my bandwagon. I just love the song about the "baffled king composing."

It's Saturday morning.  My "To Do" list includes "Learn how and start to blog"
I can cross this off (or highlight it  with my ever-present pink hi-lighter) and feel
that sweet sense of accomplishment.  Ahhhh.  I have also hi-lighted:
   Organize papers covering my work table
   Procure and install halogen bulb in quilting/sewing/reading lamp (the first bulb lasted 17 years, so very worth the trouble)
   Find a photographer for my work
   Decide if I need a desktop computer, if so, order one
       A very patient, helpful and knowledgeable Joshua Stevenson @Dell was wonderful; I asked him many questions and he shared many answers.  I am very excited about the purchase and wait with semi-bated breath for delivery of my XPS8100

Now that my work table is clear I am forced to "back" the square-foot quilt I'm making for donation to SAQA...more about this and more, later...