Susan Writes

Technology Smart Kids

Posted on April 11, 2013 by susanrray

“Good Morning!” I said to my youngest Grand. His mother passed her sleepy 20-month-old son from her arms to mine.

“Ish! Ish!” he said to me.

“Fish?” I asked. He nodded his head and looked around the room. When he spotted my iPad, he repeated, “Ish! Ish!”

While riding in the backseat of a car with my Grand for over an hour the previous day, I had opened my iPad to entertain him. He quickly learned to place his finger on a floating circle on the iPad tablet screen and drag it to the fish’s mouth. He laughed when the fish’s mouth opened wide to swallow the circle. And that night, I showed him a concentration game, thinking he’d like the way the blank tiles flipped to show pairs of birds and toys and zoo animals that I’d match and then the tiles would disappear. When only a few blank tiles remained, he pointed to the two that matched. At first I thought it was by chance, but it wasn’t. He purposely chose matching pictures several times, but his favorite iPad game was “ish.”

Every time my older Grands come to my house, they ask, “May I play your iPad?” I set a timer for them to each have a 15-minute turn. My book-loving Grand always chooses to ‘watch’ a read-aloud book. The Photo Booth app gives my creative Grand a way produce swirl and mirror and kaleidoscope pictures. My oldest Grand chooses video-type games. After they play their just-for-fun games, I encourage them to play learning games. Now, I know everybody’s child is an advanced technology student. And that’s what intrigues me. Youngsters know how to play games on tablets and computers like I knew how to stack blocks.

And today’s kids never tire of their games like my children never tired of PacMan, that yellow, circular, open-mouth character, but the PacMan jingle drove me crazy in the 1980’s. That’s when my dad told me, “Now, Susan, when I was a kid, I was told to get my head out of a book. And I told you not to listen to the radio and watch TV so much. Now you think your kids are playing those video games too much. Next generation, it’ll be something else.”

One little tyke learned to spell his last name because he wanted to use the new family tablet. He repeatedly asked his mother the password for the iPad. Finally, she said, “If you want to use it, you have to learn to spell the password. It’s our last name, Resudek.” The next day he announced to his preschool teacher that he’d learned to spell his last name. His teacher listened as the proud little boy stood straight and tall and recited, “R E S U D E K -Enter!”

Enter…that’s what all our young ones are doing. Entering life with passwords, computers, tablets, readers, smart phones, MP3 players – all sorts of technology. That’s where we are.

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Filed under: Everyday Life, Grandchildren | Tagged: computer, iPad, technology | 1 Comment »

Now is the Time to Eat Easter Eggs

Posted on April 4, 2013 by susanrray

According to my mother, now would be the time to eat Easter eggs. Easter Eggs that had been hard-boiled and colored for Easter Egg Hunts. Now, three or four days after Easter.

Long before the days of plastic eggs and cellophane wrapped candy eggs, Easter eggs were real eggs. Real chicken eggs. Eggs that my granny gathered from her chicken house. On the Saturday before Easter, Mom boiled two to three dozen eggs in an aluminum pan. As soon as they were cool, she and I colored them using a PAAS coloring egg kit and crayons. And as soon as the eggs were colored, we had our first Easter egg hunt.

I’m sure when my brother, my only sibling five years older than me, was young, he hunted Easter eggs, but my memory only goes back to Mom and me taking turns hiding and hunting eggs in our backyard. The backyard where our dog ran and played and slept in his doghouse. Where my brother rode his horse right up to the within a few feet of the house and tied her to a tree. Where everyone walked every day. That’s where we hid Easter eggs on the ground, under shrubs, and in bushes.

Mom chose the best-colored eggs to take to the church Easter egg hunt that immediately followed the 11:00 Sunday service. And after that hunt, I brought home a basket of eggs – mostly eggs that other church members had boiled and colored. So by Sunday afternoon, we had at least three-dozen Easter eggs – some from our house and some from the church egg hunt.

What to do with all those eggs? Mom and I hid and hunted, then hid and hunted again and again and again. Until mid-week, when she declared that it was time to eat some of the eggs and put the rest in the refrigerator, while they were still good. Still good – as in not crushed or too dirty. Eggs that had not been refrigerated since they’d been boiled on Saturday. Eggs that had rolled around in grass and weeds.

Mom’s decision called for a sorting process. Eggs without cracked shells were put in the refrigerator. Those with cracked shells were eaten first. A boiled egg with a cracked shell had rivers of color – just like on a map – that matched its shell color. I’d sit on the back porch, tap an egg on the on concrete floor, shell it, and eat it. Hand to mouth, with a few sprinkles of salt.

Supper included deviled eggs. I chose the one I wanted to eat by the outside rim of color on the white. A blue or pink rim, certainly not yellow or green. During the next week, Mom served boiled eggs for breakfast and chicken salad sandwiches for lunch. No egg was wasted. And none ever went bad in the refrigerator.

Recently, I was told that boiled eggs should be refrigerated two hours after being cooked. Maybe that’s because today’s eggs aren’t gathered in Granny’s chicken house.

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Filed under: Food, Holidays | Tagged: Easter Eggs | Leave a comment »

It’s March Madness for Goodnes Sakes!

Posted on March 27, 2013 by susanrray

Pardon me, if you ring my doorbell and I don’t answer. And when you call my house, please leave a message on the answering machine. I’ll get back to you, but it’ll be a couple of weeks. It’s March Madness, for goodness sakes! I’m hiding away in our downstairs den in front of our big-screen TV. Got to take in all the basketball while I can.

Maybe I’m such a March Madness nut because basketball is the only sport I halfway understand. I was raised in Pickett County where the high school gym filled to standing room only for every Friday night home game. When I was a babe in arms, my parents took me to my first game, and the only hometown games I didn’t attend for the next 17 years were played when I was sick in bed.

During March Madness, I cheer for my favorite teams – men’s and women’s. I was disappointed that TTU* didn’t make the NCAA tournaments and I’m still baffled that there were only three SEC men’s teams selected and I’m frustrated that the Vols piddled away their NIT game. Even if my favorite teams aren’t playing, I’m still watching.

Before or during every game, I choose a team I want to win. OVC and SEC schools are my first choices. Then ACC schools and coaches I like. If I don’t know anything about either team, I often choose the underdog. Or a team uniform I like – not neon colors or camouflage–patterned shorts. Sometimes, one player like Brittany Griner on Baylor’s women’s team gives me reason to support her team.

I watch basketball games to see five athletes perform together and separately. I clap for back door cuts, lob passes, and switches on defense. I like slam dunks, 6 out of 7 free throws, and three point shots. Good defense, assists, and team play – that’s makes a game worth watching. And I like after game celebrations. Did you see the Wichita State players dance after they beat #1 Gonzaga? Or how about the 15^th seeded Florida Gulf Coast equipment manager putting on a show after his team earned a trip to the Sweet Sixteen?

I can’t watch every game live, but I’d like to. Both men’s and women’s games. That’s why a DVR was invented. I can scan the play of a game in less than an hour or sometimes just take in the last quarter.

It’s said that the basketball games during the NCAA tournaments are the best events in sports. Of course, they are. That’s why I’m excited. We’re smack dab in the middle of March Madness!

*For readers who need help with initials.

TTU- Tennessee Technological University

NCAA – National Collegiate Athletic Association

OVC – Ohio Valley Conference

SEC – Southeastern Conference

ACC – Atlantic Coast Conference

NIT- National Invitational Tournament

DVR – Digital Video Recorder

Filed under: sports | Tagged: Basketball, March Madness | 2 Comments »

Never, Ever Walk Away

Posted on March 20, 2013 by susanrray

Ruth had spent the night with Husband and me. She and I watched the birds at the birdfeeder as we ate Oatmeal Squares with green sprinkles, and we made our morning plans. Swim. Play with dolls. Talk to cousin Dan and Aunt Lori on video chat. Read. And then, in my three-year-old Grand’s words, “Just play.” But because I didn’t turn off the water, our plans exploded.

When Ruth and I returned home after playing in the YMCA pool, I filled the washing machine with towels and pushed start. I threw our wet bathing suits in the laundry room sink, turned on the water faucet, and walked away.

In the playroom, Ruth dressed dolls and we had a tea party. Then we snuggled close to see my laptop computer and video chat with Dan and his mother who live far away. When we sang “Pat-a-Cake,” twenty-month-old Dan clapped his hands. Ruth donned hats from the dress-up basket; Dan laughed at her silly faces. We blew good-bye kisses and signed off.

“Gran, will you read me this book?” Ruth put There is a Bird on Your Head! on my lap.

“Sure. Let me put the towels in the dryer first,” I said. When I saw water flowing under the closed laundry room door, I thought ‘Oh, no – what happened to the washer?’ I opened the door. Water gushed like Niagara Falls over the edge of the sink. The floor was flooded. What I shouted can’t be printed. I turned off the sink faucet. The one I should have turned off an hour earlier.

I ran to our basement garage to get the wet vacuum. The garage floor was wet, as if someone had washed my parked van. Water dripped from 4’ x 8’ ceiling tiles and one was on the floor –soaked and crumbled. Because Ruth stood right beside me, I calmly said, “Looks like Gran made a big mess.”

Ruth covered her ears with her hands to block out the roar of the wet vacuum as it sucked up water on the laundry room floor. “Ruth,” I said, “why don’t you get some books and read in the kitchen? I’ve got to use this loud machine for a while.” She nodded and walked toward the kitchen.

About ten minutes later, I turned off the wet vac to check on Ruth. She wasn’t in the kitchen. She wasn’t in the living room or the garage or the playroom. I called, “Ruth, where are you?” Noticing that a bedroom door was closed, I opened it. “Ruth, are you in here?” I heard a whimper. “Ruth, are you in the closet?”

She was. Covered with thick white hand cream from fingertips to elbows and toes to knees. She stood, crying. This is not the first time she’d covered herself in some type of cream. No doubt, she remembered the talks between her mother and her after previous cream events. Her whimpers and tears turned into sobbing, and she collapsed in my arms.

All because I didn’t turn off the water. Ruth and I lost our time to read and play. My Grand cried. I spent half a day cleaning up the laundry room. Husband spent more time than that removing damaged ceiling tiles in the garage. And I vowed to never walk away from a running water faucet. Never, ever.

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Filed under: Everyday Life, Grandchildren | Tagged: sink overflow, water in floor | 1 Comment »

Try, Try Again

Posted on March 13, 2013 by susanrray

As a teacher and as a mother, I’ve said it a thousand times. “If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again.” I’ve stood over students’ shoulders and said, “You almost got that problem right. Check your addition and try again.” And I remember when each of my children learned to ride a bicycle. I held onto the back of the bike seat as my child peddled. I ran along beside the bike and when I let go, the bike wobbled and fell. “It’s okay. Try again! You can do it,” I said.

Words that flowed easily from my mouth. Try, try, again. But when those words were aimed at me, I wanted to chomp them and spit them out.

About three years ago, I shared with friends a family Christmas story that I’d written, and they said, “That’s a Chicken Soup story. You’ve got to submit it!” I was familiar with Chicken Soup for the Soul books. I’ve had one on my bookshelf for twenty years. According to its cover, it includes 101 stories to open the heart and rekindle the spirit. And I knew that several local writers have published stories in a Chicken Soup book. From looking at the Chicken Soup website, I learned that as many as ten books, on different topics, are published each year.

I submitted my story. And never heard a word from the publisher. “Try again,” my friends said. I did. I sent a dog story and a cat story and didn’t get responses. “Don’t give up. Keep trying.” With little enthusiasm and less confidence, I submitted a story about mother/daughter relationships and received an email that said, “Your story has been selected for the final selection of Chicken Soup for Mothers.”

“Aren’t you glad you kept sending in stories? You’re in! Congratulations!” my friends said. I sent the required release form to the book editors, and I gloated a bit. And then, a month before publication, I received an email, “I regret to inform you that some of the final selections have been cut…blah…blah…blah. We hope you will try again.”

By then, I was determined. I hung a poster beside my writing desk that had hung in my school classroom.

It’s okay to try and fail and try and fail again.

It’s not okay to try and fail, and fail to try again.

I submitted a story about my first house and one about friendship. No responses. I revised a story about being a parent and emailed it on the deadline date for submission. Many months later, I received an email stating, “Your story has been selected for the final selection……” I read the rest of the message with great skepticism. I’d believe it when I saw it.

And, now six months later, I believe. Chicken Soup for the Soul, Parenthood is now available to buy and there’s my story entitled “More to Life than Basketball.” Way in the back of the book, under the heading Giving Them Wings to Fly.

If at first you don’t succeed, try, try, again. Those words taste sweeter today. Chicken Soup is now accepting submissions for a proposed book entitled Reboot Your Life. I surely have a story for that book.

Filed under: Writing | Tagged: Chicken Soup, try, Writing | Leave a comment »

Barely Enough Snow

Posted on March 5, 2013 by susanrray

Finally, Mother Nature cooperated. Snow! Deep enough for my young Grands to slide down the short sledding hill in our backyard. Early Sunday morning, my daughter sent a text. “We’re coming to sled.” Hallelujah!

I watched through the window from inside my warm house. The two older Grands rode round plastic sleds, and because the snow barely covered the grass in places, sometimes they pushed each other almost all the way down the hill. The younger Grands, ages 1 and 3, tromped and made snow angels and threw handfuls of the white stuff in the air. Then they squealed when the cold wet snow fell on their upturned faces.

It was time to make hot chocolate. You have to have cookies and hot chocolate after playing in snow, and I began getting ready for this day months ago. In early December I unpacked snowman dishes out of storage boxes, and I bought marshmallows, colored ones shaped like cars, for hot chocolate. I made cookies – the kind you slice and bake and serve warm, straight from the oven.

But the cookies were eaten during the Christmas holidays, and when I found the marshmallow bag in the back corner of the cabinet, it was less than half full. I scrounged through the freezer searching for anything that could pass for cookies. I found a few cinnamon rolls – enough to cut into small pieces, cookie size. Thank goodness for a microwave to thaw and heat them.

I use my mother’s hot chocolate recipe. Sugar and Hershey’s Cocoa, mixed with a little water and boiled for two minutes. Add milk and heat slowly. Remove from heat and add vanilla. The best hot chocolate ever – topped with marshmallows.

Five-year-old Lou was first in the house and rushed to the kitchen. She pulled apart the stuck-together marshmallows and taste tested one of each color to be sure they were okay to eat. We loaded trays with snowman plates and cups, a pot of hot chocolate, and cinnamon- roll cookies and carried them to our basement playroom. Lou’s parents and siblings sat on a plastic picnic tablecloth spread on the floor.

As my four Grands gobbled bites of cinnamon rolls and drank hot chocolate, cooled with crushed ice and topped with squashed marshmallows, they talked.

Did you see me go fast down the hill?

Daddy sledded down the hill with me.

Did anyone else see Elaine (20 months old) when she fell? She couldn’t get up with all those clothes on.

I got Daddy good with a snowball – did you see me?

Momma, why didn’t you ride on a sled?

Do you think we’ll have another snow?

All winter long, I’ve wished for a big snow, four inches deep or so, but unless we have a fluke blizzard like the one in March twenty years ago, it probably won’t happen. For my Grands, the Sunday morning snow was enough. Enough to make happy memories – sledding and playing and drinking hot chocolate and eating cookies.

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Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: sledding, Snow | Leave a comment »

Out to Lunch

Posted on February 28, 2013 by susanrray

I should have known that taking four young children, ages 7, 5, 3 and 1, out to lunch would guarantee surprises. It was Thursday – the day that our Grands often eat lunch with Husband and me. Husband had invited me to join him at his workplace for a fund-raiser luncheon and because I was sure that the employees at his office would want to see our Grands who live in town, I invited them to go with me. “Are you sure? I’d planned to keep Elaine (1 year old) with me,” my daughter said.

I was sure. “Oh, we’ll be fine. It’s just for thirty or forty minutes. The people that your dad’s office haven’t seen Elaine,” I said. And, I thought, Elaine is easy. She often consoles herself with her thumb, and when I took her on a previous outing, she’d calmly laid her head on my shoulder.

Before we went in the insurance agency where Husband works, I told my Grands, “They’ll have soup and salad. Choose something. Even if it’s not your favorite. There’ll be crackers you can eat. I’ve brought mac and cheese for Lucy and you can eat some when we get home if you’re still hungry.”

Each Grand chose soup: tomato, chili, chicken noodle. And they loaded small plates with crackers. With several people’s help, all who commented on our well behaved and cute grandchildren, we carried food and drinks into the conference room that had been transformed into a dining room. I seated our three-year-old Grand beside me and held Elaine in my lap. The two older Grands sat across the table. And we began to eat, along with the other thirty or so people in the room. All adults. My Grands’ behavior matched theirs.

I opened the plastic container of mac and cheese and offered Elaine a bite on a spoon. She grabbed the spoon from my hand, dumped the yellow-orange pasta on my pants, and slung the spoon onto the floor. When I bent to pick it up, Elaine grabbed the paper tablecloth and ripped it. Not a problem. No spills.

I put a few bites of food on a paper plate and encouraged Elaine to eat with her hands. She suddenly grabbed a handful of macaroni in each hand, stood on my lap, threw the food onto the floor, sat down, and clutched the tablecloth with both hands. Before I could pry open her hands, she stood and arched her back against me. My bowl of soup and several drinks spilled. Our other Grands held onto their soup bowls and stared wide-eyed. Somehow I settled Elaine onto my lap, and then she squealed. A sound that could mean pain or anger or fright or frustration.

Elaine’s seven-year-old brother leaned across the table toward me and said, “Gran, this isn’t going like you’d expected, is it?”

Husband rescued Elaine and she happily ran and squealed in an office hallway far from the conference/dining room while her siblings finished their soup and crackers and ate homemade cookies.

When we got home, Elaine ate mac and cheese. I ate crow.

Filed under: Grandchildren | Tagged: Grandchildren, lunch, Mac and cheese | 1 Comment »

How to Stay Married for 50 Years

Posted on February 21, 2013 by susanrray

Go into marriage with the thought, ‘This is forever.’ Take each day one day at a time and never go to sleep mad. The days you don’t like each other stop and remember why you fell in love. Did you read these words of advice from married couples in this newspaper’s supplement on Valentine’s Day? Golden Anniversary – a celebration of local couples who have been married 50+ years. Eighty- three couples married between 50 and 75 years and not a single one stated, “Our life together has been blissful. We never had problems – only happiness and each day filled with loving actions and thoughts.” No, these couples shared real life stories.

A couple married 67 years stated, “We were too stubborn to give up.” One couple compared marriage to a birthday cake. “To enjoy it you need some cake (everyday living) and a little frosting (romance and passion.) Too much cake without frosting is boring. Too much frosting by itself will make you sick. Find your perfect balance.”

I studied the couples’ stories and words of advice to create a Top Ten List – How to Stay Married for 50 Years.

10. Threaten that whomever leaves has to take the kids.

9. Don’t get mad at the same time.

8. Try hard to get along with both sides of the family.

7. Treat your man like a king and treat your woman like a queen.

6. Always keep God in your life. Pray for your mate.

5. Be willing to put your wants (and sometimes needs) second. Treat your mate as your best friend. Be kind and considerate to each other.

4. Play childishly with each other frequently. Have fun.

3. Learn to say you’re sorry. You always need to give and take and forgive and forget. Talk to each other and don’t just hear – really, really listen.

2. Hold hands, love each other always, kiss in the morning and before bedtime. Tell each other often, “I love you.”

1. When you marry and say ‘till death do us part, mean it and stick with it.

I’m keeping this list and the newspaper supplement handy, in the top drawer of my bedside table. I need be reminded that other married couples haven’t always slept on a bed of roses with no thorns. And it makes me smile to read about the couple who’ve been married 62 years and said, “Love grows with the passing of years until one day you wake up and realize you don’t want to be with anyone else except your sweetheart of many years.”

In six short years, Husband and I will celebrate our 50^th anniversary. Maybe we’ll be featured in the 2019 Golden Anniversary Celebration and give advice. But until then, we’re like the couple married 65 years who stated, “We’re not a perfect couple, but we never quit trying.”

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Filed under: Anniversary, Everyday Life, Family | Tagged: family, Golden Anniversary, Married 50 years | Leave a comment »

Hugs for Heatlh

Posted on February 13, 2013 by susanrray

“A pick-up hug!” my Grand says. Lou, almost six years old, stands in front of her Pop, looks up, and raises her arms. Pop lifts her high above his head. Her arms come down to encircle his neck and she wraps her legs around his waist. What a hug!

Ruth, almost four years old, is famous for her good-bye hugs. As I walk toward her family’s back door, her mother calls, “Ruth, Gran is leaving.” My Grand comes running. Her arms open wide. Eyes wider and an open-mouth smile. If I don’t get down to her level immediately, she wraps both arms around my legs and plants a kiss right on my knee. Because I prefer neck hugs, I move fast to sit or lean over. Her arms hold my neck like a vise and she lays her head on my shoulder. “Um, Um!” she says and kisses my cheek. Then she looks me eye to eye. “Bye, Gran!” Her hug carries me through the day.

Our Grands don’t know that they are making Pop and me healthier, both physically and mentally. It’s been proven. A University of North Carolina study showed that hugs increase the levels of the hormone oxytocin and reduce blood pressure. This hormone triggers a caring and bonding response in both men and women, and a daily dose of oxytocin from hugging can help protect us from heart disease. Hugs also lower cortisol, the stress hormone responsible for high blood pressure. And it’s also been proven that the production of hemoglobin, which carries oxygen throughout our entire body, increases when we hug so we feel healthy and full of energy.

A proper hug, where the hearts are pressing together, relaxes muscles and releases tension. Hugs balance out the nervous system. Build trust and help foster honest and open communication. Teach us to give and receive. Hugging boosts self-esteem.

Much has been written and said about hugs. When you give a hug, you get a hug. A hug makes you feel loved and special. A hug takes a few seconds – lasts for hours. A hug is free and the supply is endless. Dr. Dorothy M. Neddermeyer even liken hugs to food: organic, naturally sweet, no pesticides, non-fattening, no carbohydrates, no preservatives, no artificial ingredients and 100 % wholesome. How many hugs a day to we need? Virginia Satir, a family therapist said, “We need four hugs a day for survival. We need eight hugs a day for maintenance. We need twelve hugs a day for growth.”

The only requirement to give a hug is a willing spirit. Lou and Ruth’s little 21-month-old sister Elaine watches as Ruth hugs me. “Gan, ugh!” Elaine says. I lift her into my arms for a pick-up hug. Her hands grab my shoulders. She swipes her face across my cheek and wiggles. She’ll get it. It just takes practice. And I’m happy to participate in her training.

Filed under: Family, Grandchildren | Tagged: Grandchildren, Hugs, Love | Leave a comment »

Backyard Nature Movie

Posted on February 7, 2013 by susanrray

Last Friday was a day for the birds. My list of chores and errands vanished into thin air when I raised the shade covering the kitchen window and saw a skiff of snow and birds on my birdfeeder.

The birds must have been happy that I’d finally filled their feeder with sunflower seed. Sometime last fall I mindlessly bought a 40-pound bag of Deluxe Bird Food. The price was right. I watched as bird after bird threw white millet and red milo seeds onto the ground and emptied the feeder. And then, after a few days, very few birds nibbled, much less ate, my bargain seed. A couple of weeks ago, I filled my feeder with sunflower seed and hung two nets filled with finch seed. And last Friday while my bird friends dined, I couldn’t pull myself away from the show.

A dozen or more house finches ate side by side on the two eighteen-inch cloth mesh nets. Some birds hung vertical with heads up, some upside down, some sideways. I wondered if a finch doesn’t like to dine alone. As a group they flew away and then returned a few minutes later. Two, three, four – until once again a small flock pecked at the tiny black seeds.

Isn’t a northern cardinal its prettiest on a snowy day? Why would a male sit on my snow-covered deck railing just three inches from the sunflower-filled feeder? Maybe waiting for his mate? When the female cardinal hopped onto a metal perch to eat, he joined her for a quick snack. She stayed for a five-course meal and was happy to dine with tufted titmice, a white-breasted nuthatch, and purple finches.

And then a woodpecker zoomed in and all the other birds scattered. A red-bellied woodpecker. Try explaining to a five-year old child that a woodpecker with a red head is not a red-headed woodpecker. My Grand was sure that I was confused. “Look, at his coloring,” I explained. “See the black and white ladder on his wings and back? That’s how you know he’s a red-bellied, not a red-headed woodpecker.” I agreed that I couldn’t see red on his belly and yes, maybe he should’ve been named the black-and-white laddered woodpecker. The smaller birds filled every perch as soon as the Mr. Red Bellied flew away.

A rufous-sided towhee, really a large sparrow, swooped in. With his tail pumping, he hopped across the deck railing to the feeder, appearing to choose his favorite perch. He came dressed for a dinner party – white belly, black head, and distinct brown and black markings. Just when I thought the show outside my window couldn’t be better, a pair of deer trotted across the yard. She pranced. He, with his tall antlers, strutted.

Last Friday’s snow wasn’t deep enough for my Grands to sled down my backyard hill. (I’m still hoping for a ‘real’ snow so we can have a sled party.) But a dusting of snow was plenty for the setting of a backyard nature movie. All for the price of a bag of sunflower seeds.

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Filed under: Nature | Tagged: Birds, house finches, purple finches, Snow, white breasted nuthatch | Leave a comment »

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