On Parenting

As I type away at my computer this morning, I can see out the sliding glass door our resident mourning doves pecking away on the bird feeder. Just yesterday, I saw he/she in the nest up in the little space in the overhang that covers the front patio. They were there last year, too.

I read on the Internet that mourning doves make irresponsible parents. Sometimes they sit on old eggs beyond hatching, while sometimes they abandon their nests leaving their eggs. The nests they make are just  some twigs and hardly anything Martha Stewart would put her name to.

Since that overhang area was to be covered for the fumigation last year, we had no choice but to remove the nest and block it off with some screening so they wouldn’t come back until it was safe to do so. The nest we found up there was a mish marsh of twigs, and contained two tiny eggs. We felt terrible but…

Now the screening is down and they’ve taken up residency. The other day, one dove was sitting on the nest, while the other dove flitted around in the bushes below. The sitting dove then fluttered off the nest and joined the flitting dove, and the two flew off together—maybe the Hampton’s for the weekend, who knows. A wily crow could have swept in and robbed the abandoned nest and anything in it—such as an egg or two. HA! And I think I was a bad parent.

            All right, I left the “nest” once, leaving the kiddies all alone. The year was 1960 and we were young. Tom and Cheryl were little, but certainly old enough to dial the Child protective agency to report us—if there was such an agency in those days—but young enough to need a sitter, which we should have provided. After all, we rationalized, we’d be outside in the neighbor’s yard, only two houses away, the kiddies would be all right. It was a lovely summer evening, windows were open and…

Well, they were okay, thanks to diligent 5 year old Tommy who on our arrival home we found sitting on the bottom bunk bed where his 3 year old sister Cheryl, was fast asleep. His five year old eyes glared at us. “Don’t you know you should never leave children home alone?”  We were properly admonished.

Just call us Mr. and Mrs. Dove.

The Art of Rationalization

Friday, after a lovely lunch with our tapper friends, Marlene and Rosina, Susan and I went off to the swap meet right across the roadway from the restaurant. First we hit this photo tent with great photos on canvas along with lovely greeting cards and poetry. We each bought a pack of cards--Susan bought a box with a rainbow on it and a beautiful poem. I found a box with a beautiful peach rose on it. Each box was wrapped with a pretty ribbon. "I needed note cards so badly," I rationalized.

Then we walked on through the maze of tents and shoppers, clutching our note cards, and came upon a jewelry tent. Oh, oh! Jewelry. We oo'd and ah'd at gems set in silver, tried on rings, but managed to walk away to ooh and ahh at something in the tent across the way--I've forgotten what because as we turned from that tent and in the middle of an oo! and aah! we turned back to the jewelry tent and both of us--at the same time--spotted a turquoise link bracelet link bracelet with 5 stunning blue turquoise stones the size of quarters set in silver. "Oooh!" we both said in unison.

"How much?" I asked.

"$185," he replied smoothly like I might say $9.95.

 I dropped it like a hot potato, and the two of us pulled ourselves away and walked on. But, as we walked away I said to Susan, "Valentine's Day is coming. What a nice gift that would be for me from Bob."

Of course she agreed. We walked on oohing and ahhing at cute knitted hats, hand painted tiles and more jewelry. We made a complete circle around the tents and found ourselves up right back at the bracelet. Surprise!!!

I asked him what his bottom line price would be?

"$165!" he said.

 "Wrap it up!" I said, rationalizing that I would be saving Bob the angst of having to think of what to buy me for Valentine's Day. How nice is that. I wore it home.

We also made a stop at an old antique shop in Huntington Beach housed in the original family's furniture store looking older than I. Great, wonderful antiques with a small walkway through the the treasures. Old silver plate knives, forks and spoons in a large rummaging box, dishes, cups and saucers, pictures and of course jewelry. Old jewelry. And charms. Yes, again, selfless as I am I bought Bob a charm for one of my charm bracelets. It's an ironing board in honor of all his ironing. We came home satiated with giant smiles on our faces, treasures in our purses, and my arm laden in turquoise.

Happy Valentine's day!