Recently, Facebook reminded me of a post I made in 2014. I copied that post and saved the accompanying photo I captured out of the window of my car, and planned on publishing what I wrote and the photograph as a sort of stroll down memory lane. But I realized I didn’t have much of a memory lane to scroll down, so that led me to the Internet. With what I remembered of the house, I did a search and found a Facebook account (credit to Facebook account Abandoned Steve, and photos will be credited to their owners) and a YouTube channel featuring abandoned mansions and properties in Pennsylvania (again, all credit to Abandoned Steve). I found the house which I had always called “My House,” because as a small child, barely able to see above the door and out of the window, and down the long driveway to the terra-cotta roof tiles, I always wanted to live there. And by live there, I mean I wanted to purchase the house when I was a grown-up. My mom told me stories of “The Doctor’s Mansion,” and I had all but forgotten most of the details, which weren’t very many to begin with. I found out today it was called Bella Vista by the surgeon who owned it and helped build it. Yes, a surgeon at a local hospital was also the general contractor on the project. Can you imagine how that went? More on him later. He was quite something, in a good way.
I am still going to post my original Facebook memory about this house, but I am going to post the beginnings of the house before I post the end. I sadly still don’t have too much information, but I am still doing research and if I come up empty-handed, I’ll employ my writer’s mind to add details. Do stay tuned for this post, but please be patient as I still have to do research on the house, and my new job training continues to be my number one priority. And also my number one vehicle to exhaustion.
When that Facebook memory popped up, a small spark that had temporarily been snuffed out by new work obligations, training and an exhausted mind and body, to be quite frank, was lit again. My muse this time is a small child’s long-ago memory that I can bring back to life. I am old enough, my creative mind now developed enough to put the awe I felt into words. I can now hear the parties held at the mansion: live music, clinking glasses and uproarious laughter amid extended family and friends on sixteen acres of a beautiful view.
I found myself at the dollar store this week, and it’s a really nice one. By that, I mean they have notebooks. I go through notebooks like people go through tissues. That’s just how it works when I work. Now is the time to get the notebooks because now it is back to school season. They also have 2025 calendars out, and although all of these things used to be one dollar, now they range from $1.25 to $1.50. One cool thing I know about the dollar store is there’s a little section of hardback and paperback books. I don’t know where these books come from, but they’re not books I’ve ever heard of. Yet, sometimes, you can find a real gem. For $1.50, it’s worth the splurge. If you’ve been to the book section of the dollar store, you know you have to dig through all of the titles and there are numerous duplicates, so digging is mandatory. I know you’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but I always do. If the cover is iffy, I read the title next. If I still can’t get a grasp, I open it up and read the first couple pages. That’s how I decide if I want to purchase a book or not, or even if I want to borrow one from the library. So here I am in the little bookshelf of the dollar store sifting through all of the books when I find one that raises my eyebrow. The cover is absolutely hilarious – Telenovela style. The title is even better – The Good Girl’s Guide to Rakes.
I’ll be honest, I didn’t even crack it open to see what it was about. It’s evident to me that it’s a users’ guide aimed at women who may not be familiar with garden shed tools. Sometimes people don’t know the difference between a rake and a hoe and it’s very important to be able to discern the difference. I decided this useful manual was necessary for purchase and plopped it into my cart.
See what I mean? How could I leave this – the only copy left – to sit on the shelf?
The second book didn’t have an impressive artistic cover, but it was hard back, which I always find curious. I always take off the jacket and look at the naked book. It’s red. I put on the jacket and read the synopsis. I read a few pages and decided it wasn’t really speaking to me, but for $1.50, what did I have to lose?
The second book. The most exciting thing about it is the book itself is red. I’ll give it a chance.
As I was rummaging through the rest of the books, I saw it. “Ooh la la!” I said in the aisle, but no one was around to care.
There it was, standing tall amongst the shorter books. The title got me: All Signs Point to Paris. Its dark navy paperback cover with slightly shiny copper type face and its deckled edge pages were not the usual find at the dollar store. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath. Reading the synopsis wasn’t necessary, although I did it. Reading the first few pages wasn’t necessary, although I did it. It’s a memoir, somehow astrology is involved, destiny, Paris and some dude. Well, that’s my kind of book. Plopped it right into the cart and continued on my way.
The design of this book is very well done. Kudos to the designer. The original price was $19.99, and its publishing house is well known.
I returned home and sorted through all of my dollar store finds. That’s always the most fun part – picking each item out of the bag and saying to yourself, “I am so pleased I found a bundle of two rolls of Scotch tape for $1.50. Let them eat cake, I have name brand Scotch tape.”
I put the books aside for later because I wanted to pay extreme attention to every detail. I wanted to sniff them, look at their pages, read the publication details and all that fun stuff that book nerds do.
When I finally sat down with the three books, I saved the best for last. I already know the difference between rakes and hoes, and I’m not too keen on the second book, but I will give it a chance. There is a red book underneath that jacket, so maybe it’s more exciting than I think it will be.
I carefully opened the Paris book, making sure not to bend the cover or wrinkle the first few pages. Book nerds will know this ritual. I got a few pages in and found the most delightful surprise. A night sky with stars. Again, kudos to the designer as well as kudos to the publisher who spent a pretty penny on this book. Sidebar: I am not a fan of ereaders, and this is why. There’s nothing that can replace the tactile feeling of a book in your hand. And when it’s designed well, as this one is, there is absolutely no competition between this and an ereader. None.
Starry, starry night…
I started reading this after my jump rope session yesterday, which by the way is kicking my butt. But I sleep soundly afterwards, as if I’ve been at the beach all day, sleeping in the sun and frolicking in the ocean. Nevermind most of it consists of me trying to skip for more than 30 seconds at a time without crashing and cursing.
I’ve got some stuff to do today, so I will revisit the book later. As most of you know, I often write about Paris here on my blog. The Olympics are getting underway and I’m seeing all of these images of the Eiffel Tower lighting up at night, as well as the recent full moon captured in the Olympic circles on the Eiffel Tower. What perfect timing then, than to read this book?
What’s your favorite game (card, board, video, etc.)? Why?
My favorite game is the game of WordPress prompt vagary.
The song Wicked Game by Chris Issac is my second choice.
While I’m here, please watch this space for a new undertaking of mine. My last day with the agency is today, and I start my new job in the upcoming days. I have not had time nor inclination to write much, write well, or write at all. While I have not been motivated to write, I have been motivated to enjoy what is happening outside. I have even gotten back on the treadmill, which has for several years been a ghost town.
It’s been a time of tremendous change since March, most of which I didn’t ask for, but that’s life. We move on and we continue to move forward. Sometimes moving forward hangs a quick right, and we recalibrate. I hope you all will continue to give me grace as I navigate The New. Thanks, everyone.
I sought security. I’ve sought it since March when I learned my whole department was terminated to save the company money. I was shipped off to an agency which lasted two weeks. I was not interested in working on the account to serve my former employer, thank you very much.
I exited that job for another agency. The people were kind, and the pay was decent, but the insurance costs were steep. And I hadn’t had enough time to grieve the loss of my job, which I held for 14 years and I was really good at. I exited the second agency after a month. I did well and left on good terms. In fact, my supervisor offered to be a reference for me or to be a resource, if ever I should need it.
I took about a week to regroup. One morning, my eyes popped open, and the thought was put into my head to log onto a job search site and look at the jobs. Much to my surprise, there was a job similar to the one I’d held for 14 years. I applied for the job from my bed. It took less than 30 minutes. Within a few days, the first interview took place. Within the next few days I performed the skills assessment that was timed and observed. It was the most stressful skills assessment I have ever taken in my life, and that includes my first examination to get certified in my field. I wasn’t sure if I would pass, but I did. I found out the next day that the department was sending over my information to HR, and were looking forward to me joining the team. I was thrilled. A permanent home. A job that would feel like home because it was an environment that I had known before. The difference was in the kindness. This new company has been nothing but kind since the beginning. My former employer? The word kindness is not in the vocabulary.
Speaking of kindness, I agreed to start at another agency prior to knowledge of this job opening, and obviously prior to me gaining the position. This past Monday, I joined that agency, and these people are also extremely kind and have been wonderful. I am being compensated well, but the cost of insurance continues to try to financially sink me. To stay there would mean bankruptcy for me. I do not exaggerate.
Thursday afternoon my phone rang while I was staring at it waiting for HR to call me with the official offer. As soon as I answered the call, I heard a woman giggling. There must’ve been a funny joke prior to her calling me. Between her giggles, she asked for me. I told her she had the right person. She apologized for her giggling. I knew it was the HR hiring manager from the new job. Please understand, no one ever needs to apologize for giggling in my presence. I told her as much. She made me an offer and we had a pleasant conversation. The next steps are in motion and I have a tentative start date. I have to say, from start to finish this has taken a very short amount of time and feels like an absolute gift.
You may think I’m crazy, or you may just not believe it, but I am convinced my mother had a hand in this job acquisition. I can’t explain why the thought to go to the job search site was placed into my head when I didn’t put it there. I can’t explain why the first interview invitation went to my spam folder and the Director called me from her personal cell phone to be sure that I was interested. I can’t explain why it took less than a month to gain employment at a prestigious company that holds some of the most kind people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.
I also can’t explain the giggling, but if you knew my mother, you would know she would be capable of something like this.
You see, I got the verbal offer on the birthday of one of my brothers – the 11th. He texted: “Happy My Birthday to you,” after I informed him of the news. Every year, my mom and I would meet him for birthday lunch. Often, it was on 12th of July. That’s the day in between our birthdays.
He was joking when he wished me a happy birthday on his day. The truth is, it’s a birthday present for me, it simply happened two days early.
It all started yesterday morning when I was out watering the plants in the front yard. I water the plants every morning because it’s summer and it gets hot. If I don’t water, the hydrangea looks like it’s on its last legs by noon. To be honest, it looks like that throughout the day, and then I have to water it again, but that’s a different story.
I was watering the plants per usual when I saw a tiny bird hopping in the grass toward the sidewalk and ultimately toward the road. As soon as I realized what was happening, I grabbed some vinyl gloves and hastily put them on as I hoped to reach the bird before she made it into the road. She did get to the road, but I got to her in time and scooped her up. Not sure what to do, I placed the bird – which I believed to be either an American Robin or a Bluejay – under my Eastern Redbud (ERJ, for those who have been here a while and are familiar with him).
Aerial view
I went out to check on the bird midday and couldn’t find her anywhere. It was quite hot and I did a thorough sweep of the front and backyard. Twice. I couldn’t find her. An adult robin flew to the space under the tree where I had put the baby and chirped for about five minutes. I realized this was the baby’s mother, and she could not locate her baby. I tried once again to find the baby bird with no luck.
A few hours passed and I sat down to eat my dinner. I took a couple bites, looked out the window, and saw the baby hopping around near ERJ. I immediately swung into action, not even wiping my mouth nor realizing there was food in my hair. I put on some gloves, and flew out the door (no pun intended). I scooped up Little Bit (her new name) and my first thought was the mother left the baby after not being able to locate her earlier in the day. My second thought was not really a thought, but a perception. I formed a cup with both of my hands around this tiny little breathing warm baby with a tiny little rapid heartbeat and watched her fall asleep. It was in that moment I fell in love with Little Bit and was determined to save her.
Sleepy Little Bit
I was still in my bathrobe and slippers with food in my hair and with a face probably covered in food, when I walked over to a neighbor’s house and asked them to come look in the tree for a nest in another neighbor’s yard. I’m sure these guys thought I was a crazy bird lady and they’re not wrong, but they humored me. After about 10 minutes, they did find the remnants of a nest, but it was not inhabitable. By this time, my neighbor who lived in the house with the land that held the tree with the uninhabitable nest, came out and inquired about this activity. Her cat, who does sneak out and knows how to open doors, was very interested in the bird. (Don’t worry, she wasn’t able to get out.)
The men took their leave, unable to assist, though they did try. I still held Little Bit in both of my hands and she remained asleep. She liked when I pet her head. By this time, the mother robin realized I had the baby and was nearby chirping to it. Unfortunately, the baby was asleep. I wasn’t sure what would happen if if I removed one of my hands, but decided I needed to because I needed to consult Google ASAP. The bird sanctuary was closed and I had no other resources available to me to be able to figure out what to do with this baby bird.
Sweet and Sassy Little Bit
I walked around towards the backyard, hoping the mother would follow. She did, but I still didn’t know what to do. I took my hand away and was able to get into my phone. I Googled, “What do I do with a baby bird?” I found that if the bird can hop, it is a fledgling and it has been nudged out of the nest intentionally. In the fledgling stage, the mother puts the bird in a spot and stays nearby while it learns how to be a big grown-up bird. The problem with Little Bit was she didn’t stay where she was put. And she didn’t answer her mother when her mother called for her midday.
Armed with this information – thanks Google – I proceeded back to the front yard. I kneeled in the grass near ERJ and put my hand against the ground. I opened it up and waited for Little Bit to step out into the grass. The mother had returned and was waiting at the very top of the Weeping Cherry Tree. Little Bit jumped out of my hand and immediately proceeded to poop in the grass. Her mother was chirping to her, and had been for several minutes. Little Bit began chirping back and followed the sound of her mother. I removed my gloves and watched for a few more seconds until the baby bird got under the canopy of the tree and the mother came down to greet her. I went inside and thought how lovely it was to interact with a small creature so helpless and be able to offer her help by keeping her out of the road. I had been terribly depressed yesterday, and the distraction and the joy that bird gave me exponentially lifted my spirits.
I went out later to check on mother and baby, but couldn’t find either one of them. Google told me that the mother will find shelter and stay close by at night until the baby is ready to be on her own. So I no longer was worried about predators eating the baby at night. I assumed she would make it because I didn’t want to think about the alternative. I still don’t. 
I found out later I didn’t need to wear gloves when touching the baby, that it was not true that a bird will abandon a baby if it smells a human scent on the baby. They will not reject it. In my case, though, I am terribly allergic to birds and would have had to wear gloves anyway. I was experiencing a little bit of a wheeze while holding her, but I wasn’t about to let her go until I knew she would be OK.
This morning, I went out to water my plants – the hydrangea was already acting dramatic with limp leaves and sagging blooms and it wasn’t even 10 AM. It’s always high drama with the beautiful hydrangea. It’s the diva of the yard. I didn’t see a baby or a mother. At least not until I got the peanuts out and started dispersing them for the Morning Feeding. There is a robin who lives in the tree next door (the location of the uninhabitable nest), who comes every morning for a lovely peanut breakfast. Robins don’t normally eat peanuts, but this one enjoys them. She has been coming for months. I know it’s Little Bit’s mom.
Google told me that baby robins stay in the same general area as their nest once they’ve grown into adulthood. In fact, when their parents die, they will often take over the same nesting area. It also told me that robins are among the birds that recognize human faces.
I know when I said goodbye to Little Bit like an anxious auntie, that it wasn’t goodbye, it was see you later.
I know you’ll like the peanuts just as much as your mom. See you soon!
Releasing Little Bit
The Reunion
P.S. if you think I didn’t get cursed out in meow language by Susie when I came in the house at 7 PM you are wrong. Susie was extremely upset that I was outside playing with a baby bird and she was stuck in the house. Susie was born in this house and has never been outside, so I don’t know what her beef was, but she definitely was angry. I have never seen her so upset. I wanted to talk to her about it and I did ask, but she refused.
“It's Amy,” I said. 