7 Jays

This morning I was up with the jays ... seven of them  ... two or three at a time rocking the feeder at the front and scattering sunflower seeds to the others on the snow covered ground below.  On the lake side, sparrows ate more sedately, one fluffed up little soul huddling in the seed tray itself.  Kenya bounded out the front door and chased the jays who then took over the back feeder.

First snow up here ... a dusting only that rests on branches, ground and porch roof.

I just received word that a very old friend has died.  John was a good family man, husband, teacher,and friend.  We were all young and poor and in our twenties when I knew him and his wife best.  We sustained each other through some pretty hard times back then.  Heather taught with me at Briarwood Elementary School while John was off work. 

I was a single mom with two kids and very little education;  they were a little better off because they were a couple with one baby and the good sense to have got their education before embarking on a family, but those were pre-medicare days, and John was very ill for a time. We all lived in an apartment building on the wrong side of the tracks ... and practically on top of them.  We provided each other with practical help, like rides to work, the occasional loan of a car or babysitting.  Cups of sugar, recipes and samples of baked goods passed freely between our households.  But it is the shared laughter I remember best.  We giggled while tumbling down hills with our children at the Arboretum  or dressing up for a Hallowe'en party.  We went on picnics with our kids.  Those were the years when we were money poor but rich in youthful energy and dreams.  I haven't seen them for several years now, but they were a  large part of my life ... and I am saddened that John is gone; that he will live on only in such memories.