Saturday, June 1, 2013

The End of May, the Beginning of June and All there is Inbetween

As May ended and June begins, Julie continues her amazing journey "drifting down the stream"...many visitors coming and going daily and wonderful hospice nurses.  All the while, Julie is chatty as ever and even reciting poetry!  She's comfortable and that's the most important thing, and one of us is always at the house.   Another short blog posting this week for obvious reasons.
The warmer weather brings flies...much to the donkeys' disappointment!  So it is the time of year that I have to get very proactive with the fly spray and fly predators.
The weekly pose is kind of like the mail delivery...it goes on, no matter what...
Paco plays peek-a-boo!

Silly Luigi!
The foreman's completed tile job and window box arrangement...

Raccoon in a hurry on a foggy night

Daytime coyote stops to scratch an itch

Relaxing with Buddy.
Heading back to the kitchen after spending time in the living room!
Fly spray time.  I usually just let the wet towel sit on Luigi for a while since he's picky about having me pick up his legs.


Wasabi approves of this tank top from PETA.

I adore this rabbit...how could anyone WEAR a rabbit?  (Or EAT one??)

Relaxing with Toby and Wasabi.

Curious fox with a long tail

Raccoon stops to scratch an itch

Bravo rests up while contemplating his next move.

Love the beautiful turkeys!

Feral cat and quail.

Twilight jack

Funny looking possum (from a rainy night!)

Met Snap in Forestville for some chai and coffee....plus she bought two vegan scones for me - I let the foreman have a taste and then chowed them down!!

One of the many poems Julie's been reciting this past week (reciting part - still an amazing feat, considering her state) - this poem was inspired by the painting below (poem follows).

Musee des Beaux Arts
W. H. Auden

About suffering they were never wrong, 
The Old Masters; how well, they understood 
Its human position; how it takes place 
While someone else is eating or opening a window or just walking dully along; 
How, when the aged are reverently, passionately waiting 
For the miraculous birth, there always must be 
Children who did not specially want it to happen, skating 
On a pond at the edge of the wood: 
They never forgot 
That even the dreadful martyrdom must run its course 
Anyhow in a corner, some untidy spot 
Where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's horse 
Scratches its innocent behind on a tree. 
In Breughel's Icarus, for instance: how everything turns away 
Quite leisurely from the disaster; the ploughman may 
Have heard the splash, the forsaken cry, 
But for him it was not an important failure; the sun shone 
As it had to on the white legs disappearing into the green 
Water; and the expensive delicate ship that must have seen 
Something amazing, a boy falling out of the sky, 
had somewhere to get to and sailed calmly on.