Thanks for the well wishes. I'm such a baby about getting sick. I used to be tough about it and work through it all, playing the martyr. Since chemo I just end up whining. I lost my competitive edge, I guess.
I was outside the other day hanging out clothes and saw some crows chasing something. After a cacophony of crow music, one single-handedly ended up chasing the hawk off. It was beautiful. I love them both so I wasn't cheering one side over the other but it was a site to behold, watching them. Then the next day I was on my way to the store after dark (which these days is anytime after 4:30 p.m.) and a barn owl flew right in front of the car as I was leaving town. Gorgeous!
Tom and I had a frank talk the night before he left for deer hunting in which he told me he knew years ago I didn't have any faith in God. Apparently since he did, he could tell that I didn't. I admit I found the remark condescending because his logic was that since I had never had a "moment" when I realized I was lost in my sins, I never had a conversion. I didn't want to argue with him but his logic was faulty because only in the evangelical world does that exist. It doesn't work that way in liturgical churches. But then again, he doesn't think liturgical churches take God seriously. He told me that when I left St. Mark's. He said that his impression was that no one there really took God seriously.
Anyway, it's good to be able to talk about my beliefs openly now although there is always a smug look or an eye-roll that he thinks I don't see. But he did take the amulet I made for him and said he would carry it in his pocket while hunting. I don't know how much good it will do as I was sick when I consecrated it but I did feel a small buzz of energy from it afterward. Very small, mind.
He did tell me that he didn't like me much when I was "religious." I have to admit I was a pretty smug, arrogant know-it-all. Because being right was the only way I knew how to practice my "faith." I suspect I'm not alone in that either.
This morning I woke up to a huge black cat under the bird feeders. Silly cat. They were in the bushes waiting for her to leave 'cause they're not stupid. Professor sure didn't like the cat in our yard but she just moseyed up to the back door where I was holding a frantic chihuahua and preened for a bit before wandering back to her own yard. Professor was trying to get through the glass to eat her. In spite of her being much, much larger than Professor.
We're looking at a possibility of snow on Thursday. I'm holding out on putting the field corn out for the squirrels and crows and rabbits until the first snow. I'm going to hang it from the pear tree this year because it gets buried under the snow. It's the only time of year I feed them so I don't feel bad about it. I've heard "lectures" from people who insist it's wrong because they come to rely on your handouts and won't forage for themselves, but I don't feed them yearlong. Just the one gift a year.
Besides, I seriously doubt if anyone can keep up with all the wildlife in their neighborhoods to the degree they wouldn't have to forage for themselves at all.
Off to crawl into bed and hope I can get over this sinus infection that is a result of the wondrous flu I've been enduring the past week.