I’m not a birdwatcher, but this week I seem to be noticing hawks. 
I’ve rarely noticed hawks before, partly because they don’t seem to be all that common, and partly because I’m not into that “old person hobby” phase of life just yet. (I know, soon. There is no shortage of people who take far too much enjoyment reminding me of the fact that the half-century mark is looming on the horizon. But I digress. . .) The point is, the hawks are everywhere this winter. Why?
Because of the ice storm.
Remember that nasty little wintry phase of life when everything was dark and cold? Those nights when the tree branches snapping around you sounded like a war zone? Those days that seemed to drag on forever when you had no contact with the people you loved to know if they were even alive, much less safe and warm? That following spring when you wondered if our little corner of the world would ever be beautiful again?
Yep. The ice storm. It all began to make sense. The trees that had been standing solid for years were broken to make a way for new life. Raccoons, moles, possums. Squirrels and rabbits, and skunks, oh my. Those thousands of fallen limbs and branches and dead trees have provided safe shelter this past year for our little friends to reproduce and repopulate. Which, with the small mammal population increase, has provided more prey for our hawk friends. Circle of life, and all that.
God has a reason, and a time, for everything.
There is a time for everything:
a time to be born and a time to die, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace.
There is a time for everything. In His time.
The ice storm has thrown everything out of whack. Although, if things were still "in whack" I'm not sure I'd know what that meant. . . Clean up is underway. If you can imagine the amount of water in New Orleans after Katrina and then imagine that the water is, say instead, fallen trees and tree limbs, then you begin to get a picture of what things look like around here. It's like Superman's Fortress of Solitute - only contstructed of branches and sticks and limbs and twigs. Crazy.This is day 15 with no power for many of our friends and neighbors, and though we were fortunate enough to regain our electricity on day 6, we are still sympathetic to those with broken power lines and electrical poles who are maintaining with generators or bunking with friends and family.
On a different note, the pathology report on Tony's tumor marks it as an astrocytoma. He sees the oncologist tomorrow to determine a treatment course. On another different note, the driving is going well for Boy-Junior. Though my "in transit" conversation as the driving instructor consists mainly of the following sarcastic or panic-stricken phrases:"Blinker? Sometime today?""A left turn does not mean you turn into the left lane, sweetheart.""I like to put the car in reverse before I try to back up. I just think it works better.""Stop. Stop. STOP!"And,"Move over. Over. Other way! Mommy does not want to sleep in the ditch, thank you very much."On yet another different note, Sara's phone is dead. I miss her. I mean, I see her almost every day, but it's not the same. Stupid Blackberry Pearl.On still yet another different note, my daughter will not come home to see me. She texts and says, "Mommy, I meeeeeeeeess you!" She lies. And speaking of Fortress of Solitute, I am remodeling my office. This month marks my 5th year living in this room, er, I mean, working here, so it was time for new furniture, new paint, new attitude. Could not have picked a busier time to do this, so between work, homeschool co-op, ice storm insanity and driving lessons, I am painting and putting together office furniture. In the meantime, all my books, cds, reams of paper, wall decor, etc. are sitting in the church hallway waiting to be tripped over. The walls in my newly-made-over office are Granny-Apple-Guacamole-Green. Sounds gross, but trust me on this . . . it's going to look GREAT if and when I figure out how to make all the new furniture fit just right. Now, this is not to imply that my office is a Fortress of Solitute. Far from it. It tends to be the gathering place for all who are within walking distance. I love that about my office, so the 
challenge has been to find appropriate furniture. I knew from the start that a table for us to socialize around, meet around, work around, even have Bible class around, was a must. As a church that has outgrown its facilities, my office has been used for a classroom at least 5 different quarters that I remember. I also knew that the loveseat would have to be comfy. Really comfy. So after MUCH shopping, online and off, I finally found a loveseat that is both washable AND has low padded arms that make it very sleepable. Not as in "sofa bed" sleepable, but as in 'Tommy stops by on Thursdays and props his feet up' sleepable . . . as in 'Kevin is a growing boy and needs a nap today' sleepable . . . as in 'I just chaperoned a lock in and I don't have the energy to drive home' sleepable . . . you get the idea. I guess in that sense my office can be a Fortress of Solitute, or Sleepitude.Either way, I'll post pictures when it's all put together.
I’ve rarely noticed hawks before, partly because they don’t seem to be all that common, and partly because I’m not into that “old person hobby” phase of life just yet. (I know, soon. There is no shortage of people who take far too much enjoyment reminding me of the fact that the half-century mark is looming on the horizon. But I digress. . .) The point is, the hawks are everywhere this winter. Why?
