i am visiting my parents in st george.
a welcome visit.
a nice change of pace.
my mother recovering so well from a months stay in the hospital,
which included major surgery and bunch of bloodclots floating around her body.
to be perfectly honest, i wasnt sure if she'd get out.
but she did.
she's tough.
so for her first "outing" we went to DI.
yes, my mother with the walker, went to DI with me.
i brought her carefully into the store, then we slowly ventured to
where the furniture is displayed.
we found a nice counch for her to sit on.
a nice, well worn 70's version i think.
so she sat there patiently for me, while i scurried
around the store in search of some discarded treasure.
i came back to her, and showed her a china plate i liked,
she verified it was from the 40's,
then we compared iron skillets, and
brand new shirts for dane.
"dont worry about me" she said.
sitting there with a smile on her face.
her walker propped up beside her.
her walker propped up beside her.
and it was rewarding for some reason when my mother needed my help to get up.
i carefully wrapped my arms around her, and steadied my legs.
on one two three, i lifted her out of that saggy sofa.
and away we went.
next stop...
texas roadhouse for a cowboy steak.
medium well.
medium well.
so back to my title...
my mother loves birds, my grandmother loved birds.
so do i.
something in our genes or something.
must be a huntington thing.
i have had several birds, chickens even.
apparently my grandmother loved her chickens.
i loved my chickens too, until they started eating each other.
that was not good.
my mother said, "you need to get all the same kind, then they wont fight"
what a novel idea, and maybe the saying is true,
birds of a feather flock together.
when you think about it, have you ever seen ducks flying with geese?
no.
anyway, she feeds the birds here, and we watch them.
and watch them more.
i even picked one up this morning who flew into the window.
i propped him up on his feet.
hes still on the pavement, recovering.
hope he makes it.
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