Gathering with old friends before during and after the holiday season adds a certain charm -- a feeling of warmth and nostalgia to the otherwise crass realization that time does move on. When the calendar slips from 05 to 06, we’re all a year older. Those years add up.

There are certainties about that progression of time. Some things we have less of, some things we have more of. I certainly have less hair. I also have less height. But those inches that disappeared vertically are now there horizontally. Where did that marvelous waist line go? It appears that I have a few move fat globules. That is something I do wish I had less of.

I had the good fortune to spend a little time with Bill and Faye. And we were talking about those well known facts of life. We did not refer to it as aging; we rather referred to it as maturing. And we were in agreement that we have matured rather well. Bill was on his way playing Santa Clause to his tenants and friends. Faye had a gift for me from the Guru. Since the camellia shrub in the greenhouse was blooming, I brought a camellia blossom to Faye. Faye loves flowers. Bill reminisced about the time when he ventured in to the greenhouse business. Bill and my husband had that love of flowers in common. Bill is a business person and that was one thing my husband was not. Raising flowers was something he loved. Business ventures never worked out for him.

Faye was interested in the size of the greenhouse.

“How big is it?” she asked. I figured it was about eight by ten feet. Bill wanted to know what I did with the plants during the summertime.

“I usually find a kind person in the spring that helps putting the plants outside,” I explained. The empty greenhouse idea roused Faye’s curiosity.

“What do you do with the greenhouse during the summer?”

“It doubles as a wild-life nursery,” I responded. I couldn’t help but smile because I thought of a particular wild-life venture. That smile did not escape Faye’s attention. “One year we were blessed with four little skunks.” Now I had Bill’s attention as well. The questions were coming one after the other. No, contrary to popular belief skunks did not have an odor. They did have a chemical weapon that was used only when the animal felt its life endangered. Yes, they could use that weapon even before they were weaned. No, they never used it around each other or in the nesting area. When the news got out that we harbored a litter of skunks, friends and acquaintances were eager to see the babies. Visits were granted with the understanding that if and when the skunks hoisted that infamous tail, visitors must leave the premise. And they did just that. Four little skunks each tapping the floor with little front paws and then hoisting the tail was the significant event that signaled retreat from the greenhouse. That included a wildlife photographer who was as quick with the camera as he was on his feet. As to the question did they ever??? Yes, only once when my husband approached them unannounced. I was out walking the dog at that time. I knew what had happened the moment I entered the house. There was a mixture of potpourri and eau de skunk in the air. Skunks seem to know the difference between male and female. Theirs is a matriarchal society. The female raises her young alone. Males of any kind are never permitted. The real crisis came when it was time to release them. Tricking four skunks in to a small dog carrier, covering the whole thing, transporting that dangerous mass in the backseat of a car and releasing it in the wilderness was a challenge. I drove and my husband prayed a lot. If we were stopped by police or anyone else how would we explain what we were doing? If the animals by any chance used their chemical weapon how would we ever get that smell out of the car? Things went well. We arrived at out destination. One by one the now fully grown animals left the carrier, came up to me to say goodbye and immediately acquainted themselves with the environment.

Life was kind of empty after that and so was the greenhouse. I learned a lot from that adventure. And I took a lot of pictures. The whole affair became the chapter in a book I wrote, titled: "Some of My Best Friends Walk on All Fours”. I loved animals and my husband loved plants and sometimes we shared territory for a common cause. I think I heard him tell a friend one time that living with me was not an easy task, but at least it wasn’t boring.

Time was passing and Bill and Faye had to continue on their way to deliver more presents. I had to go home and take care of the dog and a group of feral felines that required feeding, petting and a little conversation. The city no longer allows wildlife rehabilitation within the city limits. The greenhouse is empty during the summer. My little office space that once doubled as nursery, now houses my computer. Time to use the knowledge and the images I gathered to write the things that bring joy to the heart and a smile to the lips. Alas, the first job in the New Year is going to be soo mundane. Cleaning the swamp. May you all have a blessed New Year.
Elsa