Birds and The Bird Guy and a Port in Everyday Ramblings

Just took my recycling out and the bare trees in front were full of goldfinches tittering away. They were high up, just turning into their mating colors so I wasn’t sure if they were Lesser or American’s. This made me smile and I admit, gawk a bit.

Considering that it has been snowing periodically all afternoon makes it all even more cheerful. We are headed for our own mini deep freeze here over the next few days but for now the snow is not sticking.

I’ve had an interesting emotional run of it the last few days. I took some downtime just for me on Saturday and grounded myself for the first time in a good long while. This involved this process that is almost impossible to explain but I think we all know what I am talking about. Dusting the top layer of emotional reactivity off to get to the rich soil beneath.

In my case what is beneath is grief. With Open Diary shutting down and reconnecting with Mr. Fine China I have been introduced to a layer of grief about missing Mr. Finch I had no idea was there. I am glad to have surfaced it and stumbled the better part of my way through it.

The above picture was taken in 2007 just this time of year. I was passing through the neighborhood Mr. Finch was living in when I met him in 1999. He lived up there, in an apartment under the dome of a drafty old Swedish church. The dome was in his kitchen. It is where he moved with a friend from his last stint in Rehab in California. When I met him the friend had already moved out.

What a chance I took on him! I remember asking myself if I had any idea what I was getting into the first time I went over there for dinner. :) And honestly, in the end, I had no real clue.

I do have deep compassion though for those who loved Phillip Seymour Hoffman. Addiction is what it is and it takes those we love away from us far too soon. Although Mr. Finch did relapse twice for brief intervals while I knew him, he decided he wanted to go out clean and sober. That took a lot of guts. And I admire him for it. My young friend Felix (who was a heroin addict and took his life with a planned overdose when I was 19 in the room we shared) chose the same route as the gifted Mr. Hoffman.

It is so incredibly sad. And appears amazingly selfish from the outside. I think those of us who are not addicted to a particular substance have trouble understanding how someone can do what they do. I find it helpful to understand that the addictive substance and the act of addiction has changed their brains and what makes sense to us does not make sense to them.

My sister had her radiation targeting and a PET scan yesterday. It was quite an ordeal. Tomorrow she has her chemo port surgically implanted. The good news on that is that she will have cassettes at home that a visiting nurse will come change for the duration so she doesn’t have to hang out in a clinic, she can be home, it is just the visits for the radiation for at least six weeks. And they will become somewhat routine.

I signed up for a birding class in March today to have something to look forward to besides teaching, which I always enjoy. Of course the all day field trip conflicts with one of my classes so I may need to engage a substitute teacher. That kind of is amazing to me. A sub! Wow.