Yes, these three things are related, at least they were last October at about this time. My usual Sunday morning thing with Cookie, we decided to sit on our favorite bench in the woodland garden to enjoy the brilliant sun and warm breezes; it was very much like this morning in fact, one of those unusually mild autumn mornings. We’d had a big wind storm the night before and many branches were down, including one that had knocked the roof of our wishing well to pieces, so we decided to study it and make plans for repairs, and simply enjoy the view.
Then I heard someone talking in the front of my house, and I heard my name.
“Wow, look at that.”
“That’s Bernadette’s car.”
“Do you think she knows?”
“We’d better tell her.”
This was not sounding good, so as they continued talking and one of them called my name, seeing me in my back yard, I got up with Cookie, my camera, and my coffee and headed for my driveway.
Coming through the gate and under the lilac, I saw the subject of their consternation.
Apparently one of the big “thump” noises I’d heard last night had not been one of the cats knocking something over though I’d searched all over the house for the errant item. One of the long-dead branches in one of my silver maples, the one that had several cavity nests in it and was a haven for woodpeckers, had fallen off my tree in the storm and landed on the roof of my car, barely damaging the roof but popping the back window.
My neighbors were already preparing with plastic and duct tape and were ready to move the branch, so I snapped a few photos for insurance and posterity, still holding Cookie but setting down my coffee. A look at the base of the branch showed an extensive squirrel nest in what had been the crook of the branch, full of composted leaves and stuff that had rotted the dry wood.
Sometimes that’s life in the backyard wildlife habitat!
Finding a replacement window for a 1995 Ford Escort Wagon proved to be tricky, so I ended up driving around with plastic over the opening for…far too long. Glad we had a mild winter and I don’t drive too much! But I love my paid-for car that runs like a charm with only minor repairs now and then, and the color! I chose it as I rode past a used car lot just for the color, and it turned out to be a great deal. Escorts from that era are not uncommon because they turned out to be extremely well-made, so I see them in all other colors all the time. One day I pulled up at a traffic light next to a silver one, both of us had our windows open, and the other driver and his passenger asked me how I liked my 95 Escort? I said it was perfect for what I needed and I was glad for how reliable it was. They said they liked theirs too. I answered, “But I’ll bet you don’t have a tube of lipstick to match your car color!” They laughed as I held it up and we drove off. I really do!
Cookie and I had planned to tell you about this last year, but the cleanup took so long, in part because I always have “stuff” in the back of my car that needs to be fitted into my shed or my house and I had to pick glass out of a few boxes, that we never got to it. This morning was so like the morning last year it was uncanny; I though I’d share.
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