very own animal history: dove the steadfast versus lazy ignormaus(much cherished,however) kitterbea

my own animal story: i planted several years ago a coxcomb tree, well two seeds actually, both took off like the blazes and are fifteen to twenty plus feet tall. anyhow, where fence meets tree, I pushed the branches so they 'rest' on the top of the fence. So, all is cool until a mourning dove decides she wants to nest there. All through the sleety drizzling, she steadfastly warms her soon-to-be hatchlings. I fear though that kitters may discover her and a dear friend suggests I hang an asparagus fern from the eaves. I truly don't think, though, that she will forsake her spot, and I feel like ms. meanie tough-love to make her leave now(of course had no clue she was going to homestead there).Plus why couldn't kitters just jumpat her from the fence anyhow? So Kitters is getting extra goodies and perhaps the highpitched whirling just a few feet away(they NEVER mess with my coxcomb trees, they know better than that) of los jaredeneros when they come to trim the bushes won't budge her, we shall see....

vonnegutloving, healinghopeful, goddessone

that dangnable vonnegut i really loved that guy
he had his persnickity ways but he wanted so smuch to help with the healering of us sall

how-to-be-yourself-and-still-befriended-seekaging?

what am i like an how di i reach out to otters and make friendshps?
stratospheric heights birds restingand nestingin the rafter's of our Blue Jays' supersize stadium fly less high.)
talkative even loquacious moments, silent comfortably, if into now with a connection, soul-to-soul conexion.
(us former smokers are the worst, you know)).
like the eclectic blend on the provincial college radio canal (am seeking befriending to get to know people and be friends and share and bloom and not have someone say You're my woman, you can't be there fiend too!
to be me(whomsoever 'ME' might be, when the 'final results' are in) and am still very blatantly growing, learning, seeking and finding, reaching out and receiving acceptance and rejection, working on issues of food addiction
(I eat for the little girltyke within whose mom was was gone and whose dada was a lawyerdrunkardsportsaholic, and whose babysoul was so parched and yet the salty waterings offered by the dominant church structure(and I do mean domineering, those nuns were handy with a ruler as well as with ready-made answers to how many angers could prance on the head of a pin et al)offered only more misery and scant mystery. I'll never quite 'get' nor 'gather ' why they couldn't have been nice to us. More flies with honey,they say.
feel 'optimal' or 'most myself' when surrounded by acceptance, understanding, playfulness, and gentleness. (Wow, what a splendid recipe for self-healing, maybe ought to consider cooking up some of that fare for myself, you know?) SO I tHINK I WIll

WHATif at some poinyte we sullenly GOT IT like at age sixtynine or seventy-and-three or?

yes what IF we DID sullenly GET IT! and become awarenesshood of at an age like being able to run for lectorate office or such some
that
yes
that would be worthy the
awaitering,'nay?