You might not think a little creature weighing only an ounce or two could have much of an impact. But this little guy’s effect on our lives was much larger than his size.

About five years ago, our son asked to have a pet bird. We waffled a bit, but eventually decided that we would indulge him. We bought Crusher (more about his name later) at a local bird store. Out of a cage containing at least 20 parakeets, our son pointed at “that one”—and the store clerk caught him for us. When we got him home, he was immediately friendly, pecking bird seed out of our hands, and acting more curious than scared about his new surroundings.


Crusher got his name from a joking discussion between me and my son. We were trying to come up with the most incongruous name for a tiny bird. I suggested Crusher, after a character in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. (Remember the cartoon where Bugs ended up as a wrestler? One of the other wrestlers was called “The CRUSHER.”) My son and I cracked up thinking about calling a parakeet Crusher, and the name stuck. Crusher seemed to try to live up to his name, too, being just about fearless for a little parakeet.

We kept him in our family room, which is open to the kitchen, and Crusher often chose the time I was making dinner to sing. I loved hearing his little voice chirping and trilling while I chopped vegetables or sautéed chicken. He loved bells, and when we heard him dinging one in the morning, we knew it was time to uncover him. He occasionally came out of his cage and joined my son in his bedroom, perching on the computer monitor, or sat on his little jungle gym with my husband and me in our office. He received Christmas presents, just like every other member of the family. (It’s good to be a pet in the Johnson household.)

Soon, I hope, I will be able to remember the cute things Crusher did without getting a lump in my throat. Soon I hope the happy memories will outweigh the pain of losing him. But right now there is a small, bird-shaped hole in my heart.

Is there something new you’d like to try? What are you waiting for? Do you want to learn to knit? Play a new sport? Explore a new place? I urge you to do it—open up to something you haven’t tried before, and see where it takes you. And come back here and share your experiences with me!

Today is the 99th official International Women’s Day! Yay—a day to celebrate being female (without having to be a mother). So what, exactly, is it?

“International Women’s Day is a global day celebrating the economic, political and social achievements of women past, present and future,” according to http://www.internationalwomensday.com/. And according to the United Nations, “International Women’s Day is the story of ordinary women as makers of history; it is rooted in the centuries-old struggle of women to participate in society on an equal footing with men.”
First observed in the U.S. in the early 1900s, IWD is now celebrated all over the world. It’s an official holiday in many countries, including Bulgaria, China, Russia and Vietnam, and is widely observed in many others. In some countries, it is also observed as a day equivalent to Mother's Day, and children give small presents to their mothers and grandmothers.

More seriously, on this day every year, events are held throughout the world to inspire women and celebrate their achievements. Every year, the United Nations selects a global theme countries can choose to use in their events and celebrations. (2010’s theme is “Equal rights, equal opportunities: Progress for all.”) Governments, women’s groups and other organizations are free to choose their own themes to reflect the issues they feel are important.

You can read more about International Women’s Day here and here, as well as on the International Women’s Day Web site (see above).

I woke up to the delicious, patter-y sound of rain this morning—half an hour before my alarm was set to go off. Instead of feeling cheated of that last half hour of sleep, I curled up under my warm covers and listened to the sounds of raindrops falling on our roof and shrubs, and the distant booming of thunder. I imagined my tomato plants, purchased yesterday, drinking up the rainwater, and the purple and orange violas that were an impulse buy, lifting their tiny faces to the drops. I wished that my orchids were out in the rain, but they’ve been hanging out inside recently because of the cold (pampered creatures). I imagined our frost-bitten grass and all the recently-pruned landscape plants thirstily drinking in the rain. Rainwater seems like it would be so much tastier to plants than our city water is—I can’t drink the water from the tap without filtering it first!


Now the rain has stopped, but the wind has picked up. Our oak trees’ beards of Spanish moss flutter in the breeze. Pollen counts have been really high recently, driving the allergic among us (including our dog) into fits, and the rain has washed the yellow pollen off driveways and mailboxes.


The air is bright and clean today—and I feel the same. Yesterday was a difficult day. But instead of flying off the handle emotionally, I allowed myself to feel my emotions without stifling them, to realize that the issues in question were not necessarily my issues, and that I didn’t have to take on the burdens other people were bearing. I have my own burdens, of course, but they’re wearing lightly on me at the moment. It’s OK for me to enjoy my life, to find fulfillment and satisfaction in my work and play. I can let the rain and storm go on around me while I stay cozy beneath my covers. After the rain, the natural world emerges renewed—and so can I.