Ain't gonna study war no more...

Periodically the children ask me to type up and print out a plan they've been thinking about. The best example is Augie's business plan for a smoothie shop, which has evolved over the past year or two into a restaurant layout, full menu, and staffing assignments for the entire family.

ViMae creates in a more organic way, but she wanted a business plan like her brother's so we came up with a plan for a dress and gift shop. (How ever will I work in Augie's kitchen and make the dresses for Vi's shop? But that's a question for another day.)

So yesterday they wanted a new set of plans. Augie dictated this, including the properly used parentheses:

Augie's War Plans 
1. Hide
2. Wait
3. Spot enemy
4. Attack and defend
5. Clean up battle area
6. Do it over again (at next battle)

It seems a reasonable plan, especially if one is waging war to defend home turf and has been told to always pick up one's swords, shields, Lego siege vehicles, drumsticks, blankets, and other armaments.

Of course ViMae had to have a plan, too. And here it is, in pink as she directed:

Vi's War Plans
1. Retreat
2. Bring refreshments in case warriors get hurt

I couldn't stop myself. I love peacemakers, but I also wanted to help her understand the fairly obvious flaw in her war plan. (After all, I reasoned, a woman needs to fight for what she believes in.)

"How can you win if you don't fight the battle?" I ventured. She looked troubled.

"Do you want to add something about fighting?" "Yes," she said, but without conviction.

"Where should it go, first, second, or third?" "Third," she said decisively.

"What should it say?" She had no words.

I decided to offer a stark and silly alternative.

"Do you want to say 'Go to battle' or 'Have a party'?"

Instantly she brightened. "Have a party!" she said. So we added it:
3. Have a party.

Peter suggested that I invite her to make a Peacemaking Plan. We can talk about declaring a truce in contrast to fighting, retreating, or surrendering. We can talk about negotiation and compromise (something we talk about in an everyday-living context) or wherever the idea takes her.

I love this idea, talking about alternatives to war and about settling issues peacefully. I wish I'd thought of it myself. And I can't wait to hear what she has to say. She is clearly more of a peacemaker than a warrior at heart, and that's a wonderful thing.

The Young and the Nestless

The drama at our backyard bird feeders lately is worthy of a soap opera.

A couple of months ago Peter, ViMae, and I spotted two hairy woodpeckers flitting flirtatiously in the tree just outside the kitchen window. Their dance concluded, the female flew down and perched in the snow. Peter says she was gazing up at the male "with stars in her eyes." Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a hawk swooped down, snatched her up in its talons, and glided to the top of the fence. Our jaws dropped as the female struggled, then shuddered, then was still. It all happened in less than two minutes. The hawk carried his prey to a high tree in a neighbor's yard, and for another few moments, small feathers drifted down on the breeze.

Now we have a pairing that we hope will have a happy ending, but even their story has some drama.

Female house sparrow atop the nesting box.

In February a pair of house sparrows began to show interest in a nesting box that has been "for rent" since grandson Augie built it last year. With our nasty March and April weather we saw no more activity until last week.

On Monday a pair of black-capped chickadees checked out the place and fended off other birds that happened by. We were thrilled; chickadees are the neighbors we hope to attract. On Wednesday, though, the chickadees were chased off by sparrows that were just a little more fierce. I can't tell whether this is the same pair of sparrows we saw in February, but they soon began showing up with small twigs, and as one worked the other stood guard.

Male house sparrow patrolling his territory.

We were watching them during breakfast Thursday morning, agreeing that the smaller and more colorful of the two was the male. Hunkered down on the fence and fluffed up to ward off the cold, the female looked like she might be "with child."

Perhaps not. Suddenly the male flew over and mounted the female. "Look," Peter said, trying to be delicate, "He's helping her make eggs." Momentarily, I pictured a couple in a kitchen, taking turns scrambling eggs and cheese. The children, who know about birds and bees, craned for a better view. Peter hurriedly jockeyed the kids toward the window, and the sparrows mated two or three more times. As the show ended, we wished the sparrows a  happy parenthood and a safe future in our backyard, though we are mindful of the risks.

The birds have had to suffer through another five days of nasty cold weather including rain and snow. The happy couple made no appearances during that time, but they seem to be back today, and spring is supposed to return tomorrow. Will they succeed in building a nest? Will they lay eggs? Will they survive against their natural enemies? Tune in again for another episode of The Young and the Nestless.

At last!

The sun is shining and we are enjoying our second consecutive 70-degree day since October. It didn't warm up gradually - remember we had snow and cold right through Wednesday. So this is a Big Deal, and people are relishing the little things...working next to an open window, sitting outside with an iced tea, putting away the down coats and fur-lined boots.

The only green in the landscape is evergreens, but in our hearts, there is light and warmth and rejoicing, and to me it feels a lot like this image.

And speaking of "At Last," here is a favorite version by the late Eva Cassidy.

Turning point

Spring is coming, and it took another late-April snow storm to make me believe it.

On Tuesday, for the second time in a week and third time this month, we woke up to a snow-covered landscape. Unlike previous gloomy grey snowy days, this time the sun came up and transformed everything into a breathtakingly brilliant Winter Wonderland. 

I grabbed a camera, but we had some errands to run. By the time we were in Como Park, I looked through the lens and saw...melting. The trees and shrubs were rapidly losing their lacy outlines. As we got home, the tree shown here was shedding little clumps of snow that plop-plop-plopped as they hit the ground. Several plopped onto my head, and as they trickled down my forehead I somehow knew that winter was saying goodbye.

Yesterday we made it into the 50s. They tell us it will be in the 70s this weekend. And in our backyard, a small clump of tulips has just broken through the surface of the ground.

Spring is on the way!