Stoop therapy

To put it bluntly, the last six months have been somewhat fucked up here at Falling Downs. In the wake of a brutal winter, which culminated in a vicious ice storm and a four day power outage, which caused the spoilage of two freezers full of food, I suddenly found myself grappling with shit that had hitherto never impacted me. In early April, after 70 years of near-perfect health, I’m told I have something called “congestive heart failure,” or as I’ve since learned the pros call it, CHF. The pros love their acronyms, don’t they? I don’t really get it, because in my view, it ain’t failure till it stops working, in which case I wouldn’t be writing this. That’s just one of my differences with the medical community. They gotta couch everything in acronyms and jargon and bullshit, whereas I’d much prefer they tell it like it is… “If you’re lucky you’ve got six months.” But that’s just my paranoia, I’m sure. A week later my dear father buys the farm. On top of all that, the world situation has been causing me nothing but anxiety and despair. I know it would probably be good for my mental health if I just focused on… I was gonna say the Leafs, but that’s a poor example if your hoping to shake off depression. I was sitting out on the stoop when I started this rant. I can only wallow in self-pity for so long, and there’s nothing like stoop therapy to snap you out of it. The coyotes started singing about 8:30. Maybe five years ago I hung up a couple of bird-boxes on the pine trees near the house. The birds shunned them. This year I see there’s a bird family nesting in the box nearest the stoop. I think it’s a house wren. Mama bird stops by the stoop with every worm and grub she’s taking to the nest. I tell her go feed your kids. There’s a hummingbird feeder about four feet from my head. It’s quite busy, and they are amazing to watch. Sometimes they hover a few inches in front of my face, looking into my eyes. Gotta hope my irises are not mistaken for Irises! Those beaks could do some serious damage. We’ve seen a lot from the stoop. The best story is probably the time the black bear wandered into the cow-calf pasture across the way. The cows gathered their calves together and surrounded them. Then four or five of the bigger girls took chase after the bear, who skedaddled outta there right quick! Stoop therapy! I feel better now… thanks for listening!