An Iris in the Spring

Today is beautiful. Warm. Sunny. Dry. Irises have bloomed in our front yard. They have without doubt the most lovely smell. Next comes Lilacs. Today I walked past a lilac bush which had almost a spicy aroma with the sweetness. Curious. It's amazing to me how God can make such a luscious smell that is not too heavy, or too sweet, like some perfumes can be. People have tried to duplicate God's perfumes and put them in bottles. Have you ever smelled a bottled perfume that smells remotely as fresh, light, intoxicating as an aromatic flower in the sunshine?

We humans can make some wonderful smells - usually associated with food. For example, homemade bread, coffee, bacon, apple pie, Thanksgiving turkey, all produce in us a deep breath with a smile as we enter their vicinity . But even these, with their comforting smells, cannot compare with an iris in the spring.

Traditionally, consistently, without fail, I have had extreme nausea when pregnant. Ask my relatives. It is so bad, even the smell of water can make me up-chuck. One day during my pregnancy with Ashley, God gave me a reprieve. For one day (and this had never happened before), the nausea was gone. One day only. Our neighbors in Red Wing, Minnesota, had a back yard completely filled up with flowers and plants. There was a path through the garden, so I left in-house prison for a walk among irises. Oh, the smell! I believe I got teary eyed, so appreciative of the break I was experiencing. God had given me a gift of flowers with irises. I don't recall if the nausea came back that afternoon, or the next morning, but it did. Just as bad as always. I don't know why. But even today, irises make me think of that day - a present from my Father above. I absolutely LOVE the smell of Irises in the spring.

Crow brains

I wonder about the lives of crows. Ever since I heard they can live up to 50 years, I became interested in what goes on in their minds! There's got to be something going on in those small brains to survive for 50 years. Do they each have their own personality?

I had a pet parakeet once. That bird had personality. He would sit on the side of my bath tub and enjoy the show! Ha ha. He would fly onto my head, grab my hair and hang upside down, looking at his reflection in my glasses. Really!

You may wonder how he got around so freely in our home? We let him fly around freely, back in the day when I guess I wasn't so concerned with droppings. Ewwww! Sounds unbelievable now, but we allowed it. Of course, he didn't do his business constantly and often I was around him close enough to clean up after him. Nevertheless, the Department of Sanitation would NOT be pleased.

Back to crows. I'm convinced all birds have their own personality. We just aren't allowed the privilege of being intimate with them since they are wild, and don't need our companionship. If they COULD talk so we understood, what would they say? "Hey Oscar! See that guy down there walking his dog? Can you hit him on that bald spot? Five points!"

The end.

The Baby-Talk Club and Coo Coo Dee Coo

While walking Kip today I got a chuckle remembering several things from my childhood. One was the Baby-talk Club. My friend, Michelle Macy, and I decided to start a club for ourselves and the aim was to learn what baby babbling meant in adult talk. We came up with some ideas for different sounds and thought it was a good idea, and fun. By the next day we had forgotten about it.

Michelle was an interesting friend. She probably is a brain surgeon today -- I don't know, I just have a feeling about that. She was intelligent and creative and probably was the leader in our duo. She lived across the street from us and a little to the right. In her back yard was a large willow tree and a rescued pigeon, named Coo Coo Dee Coo. Also in her backyard on occasion was her brother Bruce. I did NOT like Bruce. He scared me. I liked Coo Coo Dee Coo -- and the willow tree.

Also, in her back yard, was a grape vine of succulent, purple grapes -- the kind you squeeze between two fingers and the skin remains behind while you plop the delicious innards into your waiting mouth. Mmmmmm. So good. I believe they may be called Concord grapes and Welches must have all the vines nowadays because I've not seen one since then.