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Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting

It’s better to give than receive.

That’s true, but I never thought I’d hear you say that.

That way, you don’t have to send “thank you” notes.

Driving by Bruce’s drive

I have a wonderful neighbor named Bruce. Whenever I pass his drive, thoughts occur to me. The members of the Loafers’ Club gathered at the Eat Around It Cafe, hoping to put on winter weight. My phone sounded. I dislike doing it, but several times a year, I say, “I have to take this.” That was one of those times. I wandered away from the table to a corner where I wouldn’t bother anyone. The caller asked about the weather, which is obligatory.

“It’s a lovely day—it’s up to 3 below,” I said.

The caller was from a southern state and might have, for a moment, thought the weather was on sale at a Five Below store. I was wearing a mild winter coat. It’s the time of the annual surprise found in a coat pocket. I always leave something in a pocket when I hang up my winter coat when the warm temperatures arrive. Usually, it’s a petrified cookie wrapped in a napkin or an unidentifiable goodie that had become compost. This time, it was a $20 bill. Whoopee! I wonder how much money Elon Musk would have to find in his coat pocket to have that rich-for-a-moment feeling?

The old shopping cart wrangler

On a blustery day filled with people rejoicing while shopping in retail stores, I saw a runaway shopping cart intent on headbutting a Honda and I grabbed the cart and saved a Honda. I didn’t rope it because I had no rope. I had no rope because my Swiss army knife had no rope function. The lady who had unloaded the cart into the wayback of her car had let it go feral as she closed the liftgate of her vehicle. She thanked me for corralling it. All in the day’s work for a parking lot cowboy. Yippee-ki-yay.

Christmas shopping

at a claw machine

The women wanted little me to stop listening to them. They had lady stuff to discuss. An aunt gave me money to play the claw machine in the restaurant. The claw machine was an arcade game where a joystick-controlled claw could pick up a prize. The game offered a bunch of stuffed animals as prizes, none of which I wanted, but there was a big fly in it. I heard a home run called a big fly, so I tried for a home run. I attempted to catch a flying insect with a claw, but I failed. I should have gone for a stuffed zebra for my mother’s Christmas present.

I’ve learned

Many family traditions began as cost-saving actions.

I don’t fly first class. I fly coach. Actually, I fly assistant coach. I have to help the flight attendants pass out the little bags of pretzels.

Our seasons are all different. Summer warmer than others.

Gloves don’t mate for life.

Reality is what we get when we take a break from watching reality TV.

I saw a compact car with a Christmas tree strapped to the roof. It looked like an air freshener on wheels.

Nature notes

I keep looking. Yogi Berra said, “You can observe a lot by just watching.” I watched a chickadee enter a dead tree cavity. On a chilly night, a chickadee roosts in a cavity or dense vegetation. It caches food. Being a bird is hard work, but a chickadee displays a jauntiness. A joy of being among the living.

Some of the wind-driven leaves had become cardinal-wannabes and flew past as I filled the feeders where chickadees and cardinals are valued customers. I want them to turn the feed into feathers and flights.

Jerry Viktora of Ellendale asked why he hadn’t seen any cardinals in his yard since the summer. By late summer, when nesting is over and cardinals relax the defense of their territorial boundaries, the birds sing less and flocks form. They don’t migrate but can expand their range while foraging for food. They determine where to spend the winter. The flocks are ever-changing and dependent on weather and available resources. If you continue to offer food and water, they’re likely to make return visits.

“It doesn’t have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones; just pay attention.”—Mary Oliver.

Meeting adjourned

“We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.”  Tennessee Williams. Be kind.