More Birds of Spring

Offspring #2 reports a Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird are inhabiting one of the three bluebird houses on the property. Awesome. I would be proud to share this property with a family of blue birds. I would be sure to report their nesting to the Breeding Bird Atlas because my yard is in the northeast (and most important) quadrant of the local plat. Anyone can contribute to the breeding bird atlas. Minnesota is the last state on the Mississippi flyway to catalog their breeding birds. We've agreed to do it between 2009 and 2014. Now is your chance to get involved in this important scientific endeavor. You can adopt a block but you don't have to. Just report your sightings of breeding birds. Evidence of breeding birds can vary from seeing one of a species, seeing a pair of species, seeing territorial displays, seeing birds carrying nesting materials in their beaks, seeing birds carrying food, seeing a nest, seeing a nest with eggs, and to seeing young hatchlings in the nest. Go to this website for more details: mnbba.org

On another bird of spring topic, yesterday I had to do some printing for a special project at work. I had to make 90 color reprints. I sent my printing to a distant printer - a Ricoh printer that can make color copies, scan, fax, and mince onions. For some reason, the copier insisted I confirm papersize and press continue for all 90 copies. I spent a lot of time sitting by this Ricoh printer pressing buttons and looking out at the parking lot. This Ricoh copier, unlike me, has a window with a nice view of the parking lot and the summer weather out there. As I was pushing buttons, I became aware of a bird sound. At first I thought I was hearing an actual bird. I was by the window after all. I had to think before I could identify the sound. I knew it was familiar. I knew it was a spring and summer bird. A light bulb went off - I was hearing the sound of a killdeer. This killdeer was making that noise it makes when you get too close to the eggs. Have you seen a killdeer pretent to be wounded by extending one wing and limping - trying to lead you away from the nest? That is what I was hearing. I listened closely. Althought it sounded JUST like a killdeer, it was the wheels and gears inside the Ricoh copier. This Ricoh copies paper and copies bird calls too.

Project Feeder Update

Crow - 1, American Robins - 3, Junco - 2, Black capped chickadee - 5, White breasted Nuthatch - 2, Downy woodpecker - 2, Cardinal - 2, Blue Jay - 2

Whooo Hoooo!

Even though I had a long day and even though I didn't get home until 8:30 and even though it was dark and even though I had stuff to do tonight, my street had been swept today so I went out riding! My bike purred like a kitten. I might just take it to work tomorrow!

Angel Food Cake

Today I had the offspring over for a spring dinner. We had lamb, salmon, fake chicken, potatoes, carrots, onion, broccoli salad, and for desert - angel food cake. For the first time, I made an angel food cake from scratch instead of a mix. I used to think it wasteful not to use the entire egg. My ideas have changed in part because I learned the healthy part of an egg is the white and in part because I have chickens and eggs are plentiful here. Besides, I scrambled the yolks and fed them back to the chickens who gobbled them right up. My recipe was one I found on the Internet and I didn't follow it very closely. I don't have a sifter for flour. I didn't use cake flour. And I didn't read it very carefully before I mixed all the dry ingredients together. The recipe called for 1 1/4 cups of egg whites. A dozen eggs brings you fairly close to 1 1/4 cup of whites. Even with my mistakes, the cake turned out very well. A made-from-scratch angel food is much tastier than a box mix. I topped it with whipped cream (made from whipping cream - not that high fructose corn syrup stuff you get in the freezer section) and fresh raspberries.

More Spring Cleaning

Today I moved the chicken coop away from the winter location and into the yard. Wow, I doubt the grass under the chicken run will come back. I should probably get the hose out and really water that spot to dilute the strong manure. The chickens enjoyed their freedom and were nice enough to lay their eggs in the coop between explorations. As I was taking the holiday lights off the gutter in the front of the house, a motorcycle caught my attention. As it rode up the hill in front of my house, the driver revved up the throttle and popped a wheelie, riding on the back tire for half the length of my lot. At the driveway the driver learned forward and the machine plopped down on the fat front tire pretty hard. Be still my beating heart! Not that I would ever do such a thing. I've been known to pop wheelies on a bicycle but I'd never do it on a motorcycle. I'm finding it really hard to wait until the streets are cleaned. If the weather warms up into the 70's I will be even more tempted. I cleaned out my planters and removed the spruce branches and red twigged dogwood. I carried a load of chicken droppings to the compost pile. I was very surprised to see my row of garlic had popped up and are actually 3 to 4 inches tall already.

I Learned To Crawl

I took swimming lessons in the 1960’s at Lake McCarron. I rode my bike to a bus stop a half-mile away and left my bike in a friend’s lawn. All the swimmers in our neighborhood rode the school bus to the lake every morning for a couple weeks in the summer.. We’d wear our swimsuits under our clothes and carry our towels. The only reason lessons would be cancelled was if the temperature was below 50 degrees. Otherwise we were on. We were grouped into beginners, advanced beginners, and intermediate. I think the instructors might have been affiliated with the Red Cross. My swim instructors were all patient, understanding, and middle-aged men. We learned the front crawl, the back crawl, the sidestroke, and backstroke. Lake McCarron had a swimming dock a ways out in the water. We had to swim to get to it. Part of the test for advancement was diving off the dock. Diving headfirst into the water held me back from advancement many times. I loved jumping off that dock and I could cannonball but I never liked to go headfirst. Although my instructor passed me on the front crawl, I never did perfect that stroke. I always had to stop to rub the water out of my eyes. I preferred to dog paddle my way around. So guess what? This week I got it. I can do the front crawl correctly. I swim in the morning three times a week. I invested in a seven-dollar pair of speedo goggles and I think they have made all the difference. My first experience with the goggles was odd. I had to force myself to keep my eyes open. I would reflexively close my eyes every time. I got over that. I’m surprised how fast I got the breathing pattern down. I keep my forehead in the water and look back over my shoulder to take a breath. I exhale in the water between breaths. The trick is to budget the air in my lungs so I can keep exhaling until the next inhale. I alternate taking breaths on the right and the left. This seems like the best plan because it helps me swim in a straight line and every three strokes in about when I need another breath. Today was the first time I swam the front crawl for the entire hour. I’m feeling it in my arms too. I am very aware of my triceps because they’ve been aching in a good way all day.

Chew

The other day a person I work with told me his son's breakfast is typically, "A Dew and a chew," meaning a can of Mountain Dew and a portion of smokeless tobacco. This must be the American Medical Association's definition of an unhealthy meal. But the conversation sparked a memory in me. Once, only once, I tried chew. I was probably 19 years old and visiting a newly married friend of mine in her apartment in White Bear Lake. We three were sitting on the floor together talking. I sat on the floor a lot back then. I don't know why we didn't use the furniture. He was using chew. I can't remember his name anymore. I said I'd like to try it. He reluctantly gave me a piece. He might have thought I was bluffing. He told me I wouldn't like it. I put it between my cheek and my gum and was waiting for something to happen. He started yelling at me, "Don't swallow! Don't swallow!" Suddenly I felt myself lifted from the floor by the armpits. He manhandled me into the bathroom. He pushed my head over the toilet and yelled at me to spit it out. So I spit it out. He scared the heck out of me. I am not used to being lifted and pushed around like that. That was the extent of my experience with smokeless tobacco - fast, furious, and not that much fun.