(A Northern Cardinal joins an Indigo Bunting at the feeder.)
Wow. Twenty months in Mad’ville. Who’da thunk?
May has been a busy month, not only has Spring arrived, but I’ve discovered a few things about how little patience I have.
Now those of you who know me will already be shaking your heads, but if you’ve stumbled on this site and aren’t Maureen-friendly, then here’s what’s happening in my world at HummingBirdHills.
I’ll start with a few day-in-the-life scenarios.
Yesterday my laptop froze. I tried every conceivable option I knew before I picked up the phone to call Dell for support. You probably already know this but, I discovered I needed to hold the power button down for a full five seconds, not three and a nanosecond, to reboot.
(A spring morning with Reagan in the side yard.)
The day prior to the laptop issue, while walking Reagan with a friend, and working to keep a steady pace, Reagan decided a patch of grass was far more interesting and stopped as dogs do, to inspect said patch only to narrow his interest down to a sole blade in said patch, and then defiantly refused to move. I repeatedly called his name, and wound up pulling a little too forcefully on his leash, because I feared he’d drop and roll in some dead animal carcass or raccoon shit, or stick his nose in a mole hole, then I had a fleeting moment of panic that animal welfare (or a nosy passerby) would suddenly appear to give me a warning for animal abuse. All the while, my friend patiently waited, chatted and smiled nonplussed. Meanwhile Reagan wouldn’t budge. I can assure you this was beyond the five-second rule.
Okay. These “things” were my reminder for my lack of patience. I’m sure you’ve had a few experiences yourself where you’ve run out of patience, and maybe my “things” seem trivial to you and your degree of patience is more tolerable. Or maybe you’ve been blessed with an abundance of patience.
If there is a formula for patience, clearly, I never got it.
(The view from the bench in the rose garden.)
Recently, I must have had another “thing,” happen, and apparently in a state of delirium, I mentioned to Elvis-something of the sort-like I was proud of myself for having patience, although I can’t recall what the thing was, but my memory is another issue for another post.
“You’ve never had patience,” Elvis said. Matter-of-fact tone, face in his iPod screen.
“What are you talking about?” I said. Incredulous, noticing my pale pink nail polish was in dire need of a change.
What we perceive of ourselves to be true isn’t always reality, and isn’t it funny how others can see very clearly what we cannot? Some point it out, others remain silent.
But perception is reality, you might argue.
Yes, I would agree. Except when it’s not.
(The Iris bed.)
I know I have no patience. Never had, probably never will. It’s one of those things I chalk up to being me. Besides, now that Dell helped me with my laptop, I keep my wristwatch, the one with a secondhand, on my desk.
But I want more patience.
So what does this have to do with living in Mad’ville for twenty months?
(An Eastern Bluebird feeds its young.)
Plenty.
First off, five seconds is a long time. Did it take me twenty months of country living to figure this out?
Apparently.
(One wet spring afternoon.)
I have been consciously and unconsciously practicing patience. Here’s what’s happened as a result.
I’ve been waiting for the hummingbirds to return. You know I can’t not talk about the birds, right? I hung the feeders in April (remember that heat wave we had?) filled them with cherry red sugar water and waited. And waited. We’ve seen three so far. The first one showed up dead on the back patio. Ugh. I think it blasted the window, a common problem with birds and windows, as you bird-lovers know. The other two, a ruby-throated male and a female, or juvenile (they look similar), have flitted in and about the two feeders for the last few weeks. I’m still waiting and have since talked to a few people in the area who haven’t seen much either. Although I’m tempted to hang another feeder to lure more in, but instead I reminded myself to practice patience.
(Lunch break at Monterey Plaza Hotel at Sustainable Foods Institute.)
As you’re aware, I’ve been chipping away at a few writing projects and working to build my platform, and finally was rewarded. I as invited to Monterey Bay Aquarium’s Sustainable Foods Institute and Cooking for Solutions event, the premier sustainable seafood event of the year, and I secured my first paid food column, “Around the Table with Maureen,” in a local regional newspaper, Western Kentucky Review. It’s still not enough to secure two tickets to the Virgin Atlantic space ride, but I’m still learning about this patience thingy.
(Reagan one day before grooming.)
After twenty months, Reagan is finally a full-fledged mama’s dog. Yup. I’m in heaven. Of course, that changes on the weekends after Elvis gets home. Still, I’ll take what I can get.
(Farmer Chris DeVoto of Twin Maples Farm and his donkey.)
As a result of the newspaper gig, I’ve met an organic farmer (Twin Maples Farm is four miles down the road and yes, we joined its CSA this year), and a Dept of Ag chicken farmer. Kriston, of Haag’s Hens and I have more in common than not. Dare I say I might have a new friend? The farmer, not the chicken.
(Farmer Kriston Haag and her chicken.)
And again, while I can’t say I’m a patient person, I can say living a slower-paced county lifestyle, working with my camera, and a few tangible rewards have taught me a few things about patience. And of course, Elvis is here to remind me when I stray off course.
(Elvis enjoying a cool evening and a glass of cab.)
So until next month, have a great Memorial Day weekend and if you’ve got any tips for being patient, drop me a line. I’ll take all the help I can get.
HummingBird Hills 
Testing for Jack Owen.