To Kill A Mockingbird

Most of you know we downsized recently from a 5000 square foot home to one less than half that size. We were rudely introduced to the fact that moving isn’t for sissies, especially sissies who are no longer spring-chickens!   
But this is not a whining blog. I’m happy to announce that we’re finally settled in, and although there’s still work to be done, it looks like home again.
We moved to an “active adult” (AKA geriatric gang)  gated community north of Dallas where the amenities are awesome. There are clubs for just about everything, and if you can’t find what you’re interested in, you’re encouraged to start one yourself. I had already decided I wouldn’t go crazy joining everything. (Been there, done that at the last adult community.)  With two books under contract and another in the wings, I knew I had to get disciplined. I’d already wasted four months without writing one word.

Geez! This wasn’t supposed to be whiny. Sorry.
At any rate, one of the reasons we picked this house was that it has a great backyard with a fantastic sunroom, which will be the perfect place for me to write. (Remember me- dinosaur who still writes on paper with a blue pilot point pen!) Although it’s way too cold for me to do that now, I still have to spend a lot of time on the patio waiting for my dog to do her thing. (The little devil won’t stay out there unless I’m there as well.)

The house came with a purple martin birdhouse, inhabited by a lot of birds — probably 30. Since we’ve always enjoyed watching birds, we hung a couple of feeders. OMG! Word must’ve gotten around quickly among our feathered friends, because in no time, we had a slew of regulars at the smorgasbord — mostly purple martins, but also a cardinal family, two doves, and one split-tail mockingbird.
The other day I was out back when I noticed that the lone mockingbird had dubbed himself keeper of the food. Every time one of the birds tried to get a nibble, he chased them away. I stayed out there for over an hour in awe as I watched the little birds, only half the size of the mockingbird, keep going back to try to get the seeds, knowing the bird-feeder police was going to attack them.
Then to my amazement, the mockingbird flew away. I’m not sure if he got tired (he did get a workout,) if he heard his mother calling him, or if he decided it just wasn’t worth it. No matter, it was a victory for the little guys who gathered around the feeders to celebrate.
Got me thinking. How many times have I given up when things got a little too hard? Too many to count. So my new mantra is to kill the mockingbird that’s holding me back! (Not really, but I am going to outsmart the little bully.) From now on, I’m gonna be that little purple martin or baby cardinal and keep on trying.
New Year’s resolution #1—NEVER GIVE UP!
What about you? Any resolutions for 2015?