Drip Drip Drip--and the approach of Mother's Day

I can hear the faint patter of the rain outside...it's been raining for days, but since I love the rain, this doesn't bother me.

It has made a slight inconvenience in that I want the cloud cover, but I need some dry time so I can photo my paintings outdoors. Natural light is ideal, but high sun causes reflections on the surface of the canvas, so overcast is best. Hopefully, I'll get that a bit today.

Still itching with allergies, and my Dad is making some improvement in his illness--we know it's not pneumonia, Thank God.

Mother's Day is this weekend, and for some reason, this is a holiday that has never "registered" with me, and for being a Mom for almost 20 years, this is odd I suppose.

I have loved being a Mom, but I always demurred getting some kind of "recognition" for it--God gave them to me, and I love them and do the best I can do...I guess a simple hug and a fresh picked flower (like when they were little) was the best gift of all...and now it's mushroomed into some elaborate commercial affair like all holidays have been distorted, and for me, it's just more pressure and expectations. What will we do for dinner? Will the family be coming? How many? What to get all of the Moms? We don't want to offend anyone or slight anyone, etc.

Sheesh! I won't bow to this! I have taken a stand--I will enjoy a lovely Sunday, without the stress. I will buy a card and a flower for my Mom and my daughter, and send a card for my sister-in-law who lives out of state. I'll have the kids call any other relatives that need to be wished well, and our meal will be a Sunday meal as usual. Anyone who wants to stop by is welcome, but it's no formal affair. That's how I'm going to enjoy Mother's Day.

Speaking of mother's, I walked out into the drive to get something from the trunk of my car, and as I glanced downward, a perfect blue miniature egg lay nestled right by my foot in the grass. Curious, I picked it up and examined it--was it really a robin's egg or a child's toy? It was without blemish save a little impact scratch and it was a pretty cobalt blue, and if it was a real egg, why was it here? There were no trees in sight, maybe the gutters of the garage? Had it fallen? I gave it a tap with my fingernail, and to my horror, my nail penetrated the shell, leaving a crescent shaped hole in the side of it. I saw the gelatinous interior, and felt instantly sorry--had I killed it? I didn't realize how very soft the shell would be.

I immediately got the wildlife "Consultant" on the phone--a.k.a. Dad. He assured me it would never have hatched, it was either abandoned or the nest was plundered and it got tossed out in the melee. I thanked him, and when we hung up, I became more curious as to the actual location of the nest...after a series of clues, including, upon close inspection, a hatched egg shell, I traced the nest to the shrubs several yards away. Upon carefully pulling them apart, I found a beautiful, well-formed nest, with one blue egg in it. Not wanting to disturb it or cause the nest to be abandoned if it wasn't already, I left it be...

So, even in the kingdom of birds, there is love, tragedy, the will to overcome, and Motherhood.

What an interesting and lovely thought...