RIP Dolly

I have a feeling many of us will remember where we were when we heard Dolly Parton had died. 

I was sitting at my desk in what was once my home office (when I was working) and is still a place I often hang out during the day when I am reading or writing. 

I received an alert on my phone from one of my news sources, telling me Dolly had died. I could not believe it. Had I not just seen her on TV a few days ago? 

Because I live in suburban Nashville, I immediately turned on the TV to a local station. Grim-faced newscasters were conveying the news and already looking back on Dolly's life. 

Dolly's house is about a half-dozen miles from mine in the suburban town of Brentwood. She was seldom spotted in public (other than her official appearances), but Wife and my three children swear they saw her 25-ish years ago in a Blockbuster Video store. I was not there, so I can neither confirm nor deny it, and I suppose they would have had no reason to make it up. 

I never saw her perform and never saw her at any type of appearance she made. But like just about everyone, I liked Dolly. I thought she was funny, genuine and smart, and I loved that she lived nearby, at least part of the time. I think she spent a fair amount of time near the theme park she built, "Dollywood," in the Tennessee hills where she grew up. 

There is speculation about what will happen with her home here. Although it sits on five acres, back from the road a bit, it is still in a residential area, and I can't see it being made into a museum like Graceland (Elvis Pressley's home) in Memphis. I am sure neighbors in that area would not be pleased to have a tourist attraction right around the corner, and I'm guessing some zoning laws would have to be changed to even permit it. 

All that will be worked out in time. For now, we simply remember Dolly with a smile. 

Consider the hummingbird

I wanted to include a picture with this post, but my subject is elusive. 

That would be any of the hummingbirds that feast at my feeder, hung outside at the top a large picture window in our kitchen. 

When a hummingbird positions his/herself there, I simply cannot get in place quickly enough to get a shot. So, use your imagination. 

Here is the part of providing hummingbirds with nectar I find most baffling: their unwillingness to share. 

There are four spickets on my hummingbird feeder, with plenty of room for that many to feast simultaneously. 

But no. When one has decided to have a meal, and another one shows up, the new one gets chased away. 

Every. Time. 

If only I could teach them the joys of breaking bread (or sucking juice) together, I think they could have a change of heart. But no. The first one to the feeder decides he owns it, and woe to those who might dare try to perch alongside him. (Or her. I can't tell the difference between male and female hummingbirds.)

Some of my grandchildren were in town over the weekend and I decided to use the hummingbird feeder as a teaching tool. I showed it to them, explaining what I have just written here, and lamenting the lack of sharing that takes place in the hummingbird community. 

They enjoyed watching for a few minutes but were soon on to other things. 

Somehow, I hope the lesson about sharing, and how unattractive it is to be selfish, sunk in.