This raven stayed for about half an hour, enjoying sipping from the water’s edge and watching the boats go by.
I took the picture through the front door screen, which you can probably see. We have a lot of ravens around here and the Funny Grandson loves to imitate their squacks and trick them to responding to him. It can get rather loud, because the FG is pretty good at mimicking their cries.
This picture was taken after the FG had returned to Texas, because no self-respecting raven would dare relax on the beach with a six-year old in residence and apt to pounce at any time.
Banjo Man and I are alone now. The guys and the FG have returned to their various homes. The vacation was over too soon.
I have been moping around and wondering what to do with myself.
Dancing Mandolin Player and I have a gig in a couple of weeks, so there is lots of practicing–together and alone. I am determined to go kayaking with Banjo Man. We are having friends over for dinner. I am going to make more blueberry jam. Eventually the good peaches will arrive and I can start making pies.
But right now it is way too quiet around here. And I have no one to cook for, not really. And I miss the nightly Canasta Championships on the screened porch, the laughter on the beach, the relaxed conversations on the deck in the afternoon.
Banjo Man took me out to lunch Sunday, which was sweet of him. We agreed, over our salads, that we were pathetic.
My world brightened last Wednesday when I discovered there was a real quilt store in town. Since I arrived at the lake I’ve learned I have three baby quilts to make, so I’d better get busy. The fabric at the store was beautiful and inspiring and only 25 minutes from the house, so after the gig is over I will get busy and sew a little in between jam-making, pie-baking and music-singing.
And dock-sitting. There is always time for that.