Life in the Garden

Matters of Life and Death

Confessions

Secrets Revealed in the Garden

Every year about this time the spiders get active in the garden. Big bulbous garden spiders with stripedy legs. They work hard and fast to spin out some striking web designs. Always on a main thouroughfare through the garden. Have you ever walked face first into a spider web?

Never mind that, after frantically making sure I didn’t have spiders in my hair, I settled in and had a breakthrough regarding a problem of my own web design that’s been plaguing me for months! Eureka!

There’s a narrow window now from 7:30-7:45 PM that is truely golden. If you get a chance to step out, DO.

And fade.

And Don’t Forget to Breathe

Jack Lalanne
Jack Lalanne

In order to offset the grim business of death and dying, I like to mix it up a couple of days with fitness in the morning, funeral in the afternoon. The fitness police job starts very early, and there’s a narrow window where there’s no trained medical personnel on staff*. Usually, on those days I’m operating on 3-4 hours of sleep, and I’ve had a premonition that with this early bird crowd, the “Door Rattlers”, that one of my silver foxes would over exert themselves.

Today it happened a little after 6 AM. One of the regulars strolled in half asleep and starting gettin’ sweaty on the stepmill. I saw him fall backward and heard his head thud. Luckily, we had a doctor in the house who also happened to be working out and took control.

The doctor revived him, our patient walked out on his own two feets and admitted he was straight out of bed, no food, no liquids. No good.

Today’s Fitness Tip: Avoid consuming cabbage and fried food before strenuous exercise.

*I am CPR certified and can shock your heart as well as fire a taser.

I Slept With Elvis

bird in the hand

What I learned today:

For 10 years one of my clients showered and shared her bed with a cockatoo named Elvis.

Cockatoo
Cockatoo

Elvis liked to ride in the car and eat cheeseburgers and ice cream at the DQ.

He would hold up a foot and scream “Raspberry!” and want you to blow on his toes.

Client has nine other birds in the parrot family, and Elvis was never really part of the bird population. He preferred to perch on the shoulder of his master. He was kind of an attention whore, and had to be near (or on) when master was in the house. Folding laundry, watching tv, or going to the bathroom, there he was. Evidently, it’s not uncommon for the cockatoos to live to be 70 or 80 years old. Even with all that love in the room, Elvis only made it to 10.

This is the bird urn his owner selected. While my client prefers a traditional burial for herself, she has instructed her kids that Elvis’ ashes will be placed in her casket when the time comes.

Sitting Doves Keepsake Urn
A Home for Elvis

Rest in peace my cheeky little cockatoo.