Woodland friends and neighbors

Yesterday I was happy to see my next door neighbor and good friend home after yet another Florida trip, no doubt rehabbing a friend's house. Knowing he's back goes a long way to allaying my concerns about being alone and various health adventures. Having all three of my helpful neighbors either away or about to leave has been part of the anxiety I've been feeling.

I walked early yesterday, before it got too hot, meeting these shy woodland creatures, rabbit studying me at a distance - why do rabbits run away keeping right in front of you instead of dodging off the path?

And this new sighting, probably left by squirrels. I'm guessing some puppy is wondering where his toy went.

Speaking of squirrels moving things around, a while back one of my neighbors was complaining that his collection of miniature gourds decorating his picnic table were being swiped one by one. 

Which explained the gradual appearance of more and more miniature gourds chucked onto my patio. I saw a squirrel carrying one, illustrating it all. l restored the gourds to their rightful owner now I knew who it was, complete with bite marks. The gourds, not the owner.

Yesterday's movie, another big family fantasy, was

Which is the next chapter of the Cheaper by the Dozen family story. This one starts with the college graduation of the youngest. And pays respect to Lilian Gilbreth, who became a widowed mother of twelve at a young age and still pursued an engineering career.

Frank Gilbreth, the father, was a pioneer, for better or worse, of time and motion study, and ran his family more or less along the lines of efficiency theory. 

He didn't really raise them, though, since he died suddenly, when the eldest was still in college, and the family ranged down to very young. His widow raised them and lived to a great age. Tough stuff, that Lilian.

The movie is kind of a musical, breaks into song and dance now and then, but I wonder if they couldn't decide if it was a musical or straight comedy. I'm not a fan of musicals where the plot keeps going on hold while they sing about it. I tend to go put the kettle on when a song starts up. 

In opera it's the other way, the arias being to my mind the whole thing, the plot not so much, and the recitative, the bits where people half talk half sing, too actory for words. 

I'm missing so much being able to knit, but I really need to hold off till my shoulder feels better.  Movies and mysteries on the Kindle are just the ticket, nothing very serious or demanding right now. Hamish Macbeth mysteries, fantasy big families are about where I am this week.

That and drawing with marker.

Happy day everyone. Looking forward to seeing better soon. Like birds flying singly instead of in double formation, and words being legible again, without having to angle them just so. 

Hang in there, Brit blogistas, I hear about the stresses of all kinds you're dealing with, and hope for some relief for you, one way or another. You've got Janie Godley's voiceovers and Josie George's found poetry to help keep you afloat though, fortunately.