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.

I Passed The Test

Last fall I went to Hawk Ridge to learn about raptors. A volunteer coordinator there mentioned the owl monitoring survey. Since I was still excited about my close encounter with a barred owl, I thought participating in the owl survey would be a great way to learn more about these wise birds. So I talked to a sibling and together we volunteered to participate. I knew we wouldn’t get a route around our homes because they were all taken. We figured we would get a route in the western part of the state. This week we were given our assigned route. Turns out our route is in the river bluffs just outside of Lake City. Awesome!!! I love the river bluff area. I often thought that if I was going to settle in another part of the state, I’d like the southeastern corner because I love hills and the beauty of that area. Sometime between April 1 and April 15, we will drive down there and scout out our 10-mile route. We’ll do this during the daytime so we can see where we are going. We’ll stop and have dinner. Then, a half hour after the sun sets, we will go back to our route. I hope there isn’t much wind that night. We’ll stop at 10 points (a mile apart) and get out of the car. We will listen for owls for 5 minutes at each stop and record what we hear. If we don’t hear any owls, they want to know that too. Before we do all that, we had to get certified first by taking an on-line quiz. The quiz listed ten owls. We had to correctly identify the sounds that those ten owls make. We had three chances to pass the test. The website had owl sounds to memorize before you took the test. Here are my notes on the owl sounds (their common and uncommon vocalizations). Barred owl - no soup for you, no soup for you-all; excited monkey sounds. Great Horned owl - Ooh, Ooh-ooh, Ooh, Ooh, Eap! Northern Saw Whet - sounds of a heart monitor or water dripping. Long Eared Owl - Ooh (long pause) Ooh (long pause) Meep! Short-eared Owl - Meow, Meow, Meow. Great Gray Owl - Hu (pause) Hu (pause) Hu (pause) Hu (pause) Nyet! Boreal owl - eight Oohs in quick succession. Eastern Screech Owl - Horse whinny, fake snoring. Northern Hawk Owl - 26 Oohs in quick succession, gun shot. Barn Owl-fingernails on a chalkboard, squeaky shoes. I took the test and passed after my second try so now I am certified. But I am so not ready. I have a lot of studying to do before we do our route. Owlpages.com is a good source of information for owl sounds.

The Yosemite

I read a book by John Muir entitled, "The Yosemite." This was a coffee table version of his book adorned with photographs and annotated by Galen Rowell. You will need a good size coffee table for this book. It's too large to hold in your lap comfortably. The photographs are truly awesome. John Muir is the founder of the Sierra Club. He assisted our country in preserving the natural wildness of Yosemite Park in California. He was somewhat of a hermit - living in the wild for months at a time. He once met President T. Roosevelt at Yosemite. Together they ditched the press and the people in attendance and went off camping by themselves. I can't imagine such a thing happening now. I skimmed through a lot of the pages because it was describing a park I haven't been to yet. I paid attention to the chapters on the rock formation, the trees, plants, animals and birds. John Muir was a strong man. He was able to hike and climb without gore tex, nylon ropes, and GPS. He describing walking across a glacier one spring day when an avalanche occurred under his very feet. He described the feeling as things went out from underneath him and how he tried to swim and stay afloat on that giant pocket of snow as it traveled down a mountainside. When it was all over he stood up, dusted himself off, and walked away unharmed. Not only was he a great outdoors person but he led a charmed life. I really enjoyed reading his words while seeing photographs of what he was writing.

Project Feeder Watch

Downy woodpecker - 2, Goldfinch - 1, Blue Jay - 2, Black Capped Chickadee - 5, White Breasted Nuthatch - 2, Robin - 2, Junco - 3, Cardinal - 2

Signs of Spring

Today I spent the afternoon bumming around outside enjoying the fresh air. A friend and I went to Quarry Park in Waite Park. The quarry ponds had ice. I pushed on the ice with my cane and loosed some up around the edges. Some of the ice broke into long flattened shards. I pushed so 6 foot plates of ice temporarily submerged and popped up again. We threw chunks of granite from the grote pile onto the ice taking bets which chunks would break through. We both overestimated our ice breaking abilities. So if you go up there and see a bunch of granite rocks on top of the ice in the quarry, that was us. As we walked around playing with the ice, a large garter snake moved away from us. I'm sure it saw us long before we saw it. It was a big one - at least 20 inches, maybe two feet in length. It had been warming itself on the sunny granite shelf until we disturbed it. I usually scream when I see snakes. This time I didn't. Maybe because my friend said, "There is a snake," instead of my seeing it slither in the corner of my eye. We saw quite a few black bugs swimming under the ice. I disturbed the leaves under the ice with my cane and the bugs came swimming out. One bug got on top of the ice and moved about in such a panic that I submerged the ice floe with my cane so it could swim down again. I saw a rose breasted grosbeak singing on a cable next to the grote pile. We drove down to a restaurant on the banks of the Sauk River. The river came right up to the edge of the building. We saw some flooding. Part of the parking lot was under water. An antique car and an old tractor looked like they were parked out in the river. A clever sign said, "Overflow Parking." Wish I had brought my camera. On the way back I stopped at Fleet Farm. I bought an owl call. I tried it out in the car. I couldn't get it to work at all unless I breathed in rather than out. Then I tried putting the other end in my mouth. Worked much better. I think I will keep it in my bedroom. This summer when I hear the barred owls calling, I will join in the chorus. It will be fun to talk with the owls.

Women With Vision-Walker Art Center

This afternoon some friends and I went to see a couple documentary films at the Walker Art Center. The first film was "Ida's Story." Ida was a woman from the Ukraine. She was 8 years old and a middle child in her family in 1918 when the Cossacks attacked her village. Her parents are both dead and the children travel to the United States. They beg and steal food to survive their journey. Kind people help them out along the way. As an 8 year old, she is sent to do the begging and the stealing because she is too young to be raped and old enough to come back alive with the food. As we hear Ida's story, the filmmaker shows us pictures of other children in the same circumstance. That is how we learn Ida's story continues to be repeated the world over almost 100 years later.

"Pride of Lions" was the second film in the series. This tells the story of Sierra Leone- a former British colony on the west coast of Africa. Corruption, graft, amputees, war, child soldiers - this is a hard story to watch. I heard and saw some powerful stories. Today's experience puts all my minor problems in perspective. Very good film series.

A friend of mine graciously takes my extra eggs. My offspring and I can't eat them all. I told her the eggs came from happy chickens. Her husband heard about the happy chickens and asks, "How do you know the chickens are happy?" Does he doubt the emotions of chickens? I told my friend I would write an essay on chicken happiness that she could show to her husband. Here goes.

People know happiness because they have felt it and they have felt unhappiness. We need the comparison to truly understand it. I think a chicken in a commercial egg laying facility is an unhappy chicken. Egg laying facility chickens live in a battery cage that gives them the space equivalent to nine inches by nine inches. They can't walk or stretch their wings. Such close confinement leads to mental distress and cannibalism. The chickens could peck each other to death. Cannibalism is controlled by de-beaking-slicing off the upper beak with a hot blade so they cannot peck; denying them of a natural instinct. The chickens have to stretch their necks to reach the food tray which rubs the feathers off their necks and causes sores. The air in these facilities can become toxic with the ammonia from their droppings damaging the eyes, the respiratory systems and burns the legs of the chickens. The chickens are fed mash which may contain antibiotics, growth hormones and arsenic. OK, I could go on but I won't. That is enough.

My chickens are free range, organic, and I hope happy. They have beaks to peck with and space to run, walk, fly, and stretch their wings. They sleep in their red coop but the door to the six foot run is open 24 hours a day. They can go outside to see the sun, the moon, the snow or the rain at will. They have an unlimited supply of medicine free mash to eat in a container that is hung at the same height as their heads. In the summer they eat the vegetation and bugs in their run. In the winter they get a little treat in the morning: cucumber, parsley, apple, banana, dried meal worms, or lettuce. Their coop is kept fresh with wood shavings. When I am home the chickens are allowed to leave the run and go into the yard as much as they like. They chose to stay in the run or on top of the coop when the snow was deep but now they are getting more exercise. They can take dust baths and follow their other natural instincts. When I collect the eggs, I say, "Thanks for the eggs!" Call me crazy. I think they're happy.

How is a raven like a writing desk?

If you want to know how a raven is like a writing desk, you'll have to see the movie "Alice In Wonderland" starring my crush, Johnny Depp. We saw the 3D version today. Yes, we wore the glasses and we looked GOOD wearing them. Johnny had a little lisp going on in this show but the strange thing was, the lisp would come and go. He had an inconsistent lisp. Alice was a warrior in this show. I loved the strong female characters and the bulbous head of the red queen. Great movie.

Ice Out

Sometime between 5 p.m. on March 16 and 5 p.m. on March 17, the ice went out on the Rum. I drove down to the boat landing on March 16 and saw the black ice ridging up on itself creating seams across the river. I knew the ice would be going soon. I wish I had been there to see it.

Plus I saw my first red winged blackbird today - a male sitting on a cattail in the swamp south of the boy scout camp. The males come back first to stake out the best territory.

It's Been One Of Those Days

Today has been one of those days where I feel like I'm keeping a row of plates spinning. I've had an unusual cluster of items to coordinate.

Dangerous Discussion

At lunch today we got into a discussion about natural dangers. One person grew up in the Texas panhandle. During her childhood years she ran across two dangers. Once a rattlesnake passed beneath her on a lawn chair while she was sunbathing. Her Mom saw it happen and decided not to say anything to her until all danger had passed. Later they found and killed the rattlesnake in their garden shed. Another time a tarantula got into her house. The spider was on the stairs when she was sneaking into the house late at night. The household disturbance got her off the hook for breaking curfew. Some people at the table were very disturbed by these reports. They couldn't imagine living with such dangers. "A tarantula in your house? No, sir, not me. Wouldn't put up with that." I tried to put things into perspective. Danger is a matter of what you have are used to. True, we don't have many poisonous snakes here or large, hairy spiders. Tarantulas aren't going to kill a person. I think people severely under appreciate the danger of a wood tick and a mosquito. Lyme's Disease and encephalitis are very dangerous problems. When I travel I look at the Center for Disease Control website for the dangers where I am visiting. Kenya, for example, had malaria and Yellow Fever. Look at the CDC website for Minnesota and it will have a large warning about Lyme's Disease and deer ticks. I went camping with a young woman from Russia several years ago. Another person (not her) got a wood tick and this woman freaked out. The tick hadn't even bitten anyone and this woman was screaming. She was genuinely frightened by the warnings she had read. Wood ticks don't scare me. I've been bitten many times. What does scare me are skunks. I freeze with panic when I run across a skunk in a field. When I was a child, we lived next door to my Grandparents who had a small farm. They had a cow, a horse, some goats and chickens, an apple orchard, a grape arbor, a large garden including rhubarb and horseradish, and a huge raspberry patch. They had a series of dogs all named Shep and some barn cats. One summer a rabid skunk was hanging about the property. The skunk attacked a litter of kittens. My Grandfather saw the kittens were bitten by the skunk and had to put them to death. I was riding my bicycle up the road and saw part of that mercy killing. The skunk continued to hang around. One day the skunk was up by my Grandparent's house. It had to be a weekend because my Dad was home. The skunk was acting very strange - approaching the house and wobbling on it's feet. We were told to stay inside. My father went out with his shotgun. We watched from a bedroom window. Dad was walking counterclockwise around the house. My sister and I were screaming out the window, "Dad! It's coming behind you! Now it's coming the other way!" We were overcome with excitement and drama and fear. It seemed like the skunk and my father circled the house several times. I imagine my father probably waited until the skunk was on the side of the house we could not see to shoot it. That was a very dangerous day.

Shades of Summer

Buckthorn

What a week it has been. Last Sunday I had over six inches of snow all over the lawn. Today I have a few patches of snow with lots of bare ground in between. This morning my vegetable garden was covered with a layer of snow. This afternoon all traces of snow are gone from the garden. I can't remember ever seeing snow melt this fast. The chickens love it. For the first time since November, they are free to walk around the yard. They hate to put their feet in the snow so they limited themselves to the few feet next to the house all winter. Today they wandered under the sunflower feeder and ate; kicking up and spreading the empty shells with their feet. The chicken quartet went to the east side of the house where they spent the summer. The chickens acted like they remembered the place. They immediately went to the side of the house where they had dug up the sand to give themselves dust baths. They had such vigorous dust baths that I had to brush the sand off the windowsills. The chickens have dug holes worse than dogs. I don't mind not having to mow right next to the house. All four chickens went to their favorite black spruce tree and sat under there like they used to do. Meredith went under the canoe. Kelly used to lay her eggs under the canoe last summer. I hated reaching my hand under the dark canoe to get the eggs. I am scared I will touch a snake or a rabbit or something even worse. So I rocked the canoe a few times to scare her out of there. Pamela even got herself up on the deck rail to eat the leftover canary food. Now, she had to remember that from last year. Why else would she get herself all the way up on the deck railing? Frankly, I am surprised. I guess I underestimated bird brains. The weather was so nice I looked for a chore to do outside. Then I remembered. I could cut the buckthorn. I found buckthorn late last fall. I want to keep it off my property because it is an invasive species and will take over the other trees. I thought I'd start by cutting the trees bearing fruit. If the stumps sprout branches this spring I'll spray them with herbicide. I was busy cutting down buckthorn trees in the northeast corner of my yard when I saw a pair of white tennis shoes appear. I looked up and saw Offspring #1 standing there. I don't know how he found me in the woods like he did but I was very glad to see him. I was even more glad when he went and got another nippers and saw and helped me finish the job. When the leaves appear and I'm 100% positive which young trees are buckthorn, I can finish the job.

Project Feederwatch Update

No, I didn't have a sandhill crane in my backyard. But I had one fly overhead. I can't count them unless they land in the feeding area. Since this is the first time I've seen a crane this year, I thought I'd mention it. I love their flying flourish. Every time they bring their wings up, the end feathers do a little flip up like the fingertips on a ballerina. Sandhill cranes have style.

Black-capped chickadee - 5, White breasted nuthatch - 3, Cardinal - 3, Downy woodpecker - 2, Pileated woodpecker - 1, Crow - 1, Robin - 1

The Season of Second Chances

If you have things that need to get done around the house or if you have to get somewhere on time, DON'T read this book. If you are like me, you won't be able to put it down. You might read the whole book in just two sittings. I got this book free from the publisher for being an early reviewer. The book won't be on sale until April. The main character is a 48 year old woman named Joy. I guess I could relate just a little bit. Let me know if you want to read it. I have a copy.

Songs of The Humpback Whale

"Songs of the Humpback Whale," written by Jodi Picoult, is told in five voices: Jane, Rebecca (Jane's daughter), Oliver (Jane's husband), Joley (Jane's brother) and Sam (Jane's lover). Each of them take turns telling their story. This is an early novel by Picoult. She tells a good story. If I had one criticism of the book, I'd say the story didn't have to be so repetitive. After three or four people tell their version of an incident, I don't want to hear about it anymore.

Crazy Heart

"Crazy Heart" is a movie worth paying to see in the theater. The music is very good. I'm thinking about buying the soundtrack. I'm a rock and roll person but I did like this old-time country sound. The scenery (Arizona) is beautiful. I like road trips. The story is about a musician (a blend of Merle Haggard, Kris Kristofferson and Waylon Jennings). The musician is named Bad Blake. Bad is appropriately named because he does not take responsibility for anything. He drinks too much, smokes too much, eats too much. He's a mess. For some reason (and this is the only part that is not believeable) a young reporter falls for him. She allows him to join in the life she has set up with her four year old son. Bad Blake, true to his name, messes up big time and looses the boy at a shopping mall while getting a drink. Not until the very end of the show can Bad be good and put someone else's needs ahead of his own for once. Great story.

Reader Interactive

Feel free to answer the questions in comments:

What was the . . .

First blog you ever read?

First album you ever bought?

First car you drove?

What is . . .

Scariest movie you ever saw?

Stressing you out right now?

One of your most vivid childhood memories?

On your plate for dinner tonight?

And one final question - answer yes or no . . .

Have you ever looked at the clouds on the horizon at sunrise and pretended they were mountains?

I have a friend at work who is warm, supportive and funny; a genuine buddy. But she kicks me. She kicks me in my leg with her foot. Better than a poke in the eye but still. The kicks are infrequent and under the oak conference room table. No one notices but me unless I say “Ow.” She doesn’t kick me at every meeting. At some meetings I will get more than one kick. I try to position my self near the end of the table because the oak table leg protects me. That doesn’t always work. Over the years I’ve worked with her (15?) I have come to know when to expect a kick. You know that moment when the needle on the your mental BS meter flings into the red zone? That moment when I have to concentrate all the muscles in my body to prevent my eyes from rolling? (It is SO unprofessional to roll my eyes at meetings - I really have to work hard to prevent that from happening). So there I am, concentrating on not rolling my eyes and trying to keep my mind open - THAT is when she will kick me in the shins. Startles me every time. This week we had a meeting together. The needle on my mental BS meter was starting to rise. Unconsciously, I moved my chair away from my friend. After the meeting she caught me in private and said, “You moved! You moved away from me right when I was going to kick you.” I didn’t even realize I did that. My muscle memory must have taken over and protected me because my mind was so busy preventing another eye roll.

Ode To Sciatica

You've been around for over five years,

Night and day, day and night.

At times you reduce me to tears;

As a companion you really bite.

Have you thought about giving me a break?

Visiting elsewhere a month or two?

In our relationship you could take

A hiatus! Burden someplace new!

Hiking the woods, it used to be

My favorite way to race my heart.

Since you've come around, well, gee,

It's harder now, was that smart?

Try as I might, you are on my mind,

Skulking into feeling and thought.

Even when I am asleep I find

In your persistence I am caught.

People ask me, "Is it the weather?"

"Did over lifting make you lame?"

I have days that are bad or better,

It's random when I need the cane.

I want to speak freely

With being crass.

My opinion is really

You are a pain in the ass.

When Elephants Weep-The Emotional Lives of Animals

A friend of mine recommended this book to me about ten years ago. I'm finally getting around to reading it. This friend had absolutely no interest in going to the zoo. "Read this book," she said, "then you will understand." Now I've read it and I do understand why she doesn't like to go to zoos. This book written by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson and Susan McCarthy starts out talking about emotions. People disagree how many emotions we have. Some philosophers say we have four, others six, and some say 12. But we really can't prove emotions. If you induce an emotion a MRI will show action in certain parts of the brain, but that really isn't solid evidence. People say they feel emotions but how do we know they are telling the truth or are even self-aware enough to recognize their own emotions? Scientists scold each other for anthropomorphizing animals (giving them human traits). But if we compare the behavior of a human parent with a deceased child to a elephant with a deceased child and the behaviors are the same, how can we know for sure the elephant isn't feeling grief and loss? Lots of examples of all kinds of emotional behavior are given in anecdotes involving elephants, orangutans, dogs, spiders, dolphins, lions, lizards, octopus, parrots, chimpanzees, beaver, deer, butterflies, rhinos, hyenas, coyotes, baboons, lynx and goats. I thought this book was thought-provoking and fascinating. I finished it in two days.

Project Feeder Watch Update

Black capped chickadee - 5, White breasted nuthatch - 2, Robin - 1, Crow - 1, Downy woodpecker - 2, Junco - 2, Cardinal - 3

The photo is a mourning dove. I heard a mourning dove when I shook my rugs on Saturday. Welcome back! I missed your sound. This is my first spring bird this year. I can't include it in my feederwatch because it didn't come into my designated viewing area.

Change of Season

I smelled the distinct odor of skunk this week. Spring is in the air. I can go outside with my chin held high and my neck exposed to the air again. Sap is running in the maple trees. I love spring. My favorite thing about spring? Ditching the driveway - totally. I can spend hours with my garden spade creating water courses for the melting snow to drain to the west (lower) side of the drive. I dig little trenches in the ice. Once I get a good flow going I try to make it flow faster by removing more ice or some rocks. I find it totally mesmerizing to watch the water stream by and figure out where my shovel work will hasten the draining. If I find any rapids I dig out that spot. The water is at most maybe three inches deep on my gravel driveway. If I do this right, I can go from a wet but frozen driveway to a dry driveway and bypass that "mud up to the hubcaps" driveway.

Pam is Getting Broody

My hen, Pamela, is getting broody. When I open the egg gathering door of the coop, I find her sitting on the eggs with her body all spread out at the bottom like a chicken cookie jar. When she sees me open the door she looks up and gives me a startled look. She isn't too happy about being chased off the eggs. She gets up very reluctantly. This is a new behavior for her and she's the only chicken to act this way. I think Pamela would be a very good mother.

Percy Jackson and the Olympians

With a friend, I went to see "Percy Jackson and the Olympians." I liked it. Percy thinks he's a normal teenager. Little does he know, he's a demi-god, son of a mortal mother and Poseidon. He has a good friend who uses crutches. Percy doesn't know that his friend is really a satyr (half man, half goat). His friend sticks by his side through out it all, chewing and swallowing pop cans (goats will eat anything) and braying like a goat whenever he gets randy. I did learn about the Greek gods but forgot a lot. Bits of old knowledge came back to me during the show. Percy is fighting with a Hydra. He cuts off a head and that is when I remember you never cut off the head of a hydra because two head will grow back. Sure enough, two heads grow back. Uma Thurman plays Medusa. Her beauty make her the perfect Medusa. Just don't look into her eyes! She'll turn you into stone. In this movie, Percy doesn't look into her eyes but he watches her in the reflection off his cell phone. This movie is a funny blend of old and new. The winged shoes are black Converse high tops and Mount Olympus is in New York City. I wish I had winged shoes.

I Am Falling In Love

I am falling in love. I have a new man in my life. His name is Harry. How can I describe him? Let's see. He's not tall but he is dark and handsome. He has short hair. Usually I go for the long haired guys with facial hair so this is different for me. He has a cute butt, shapely legs, and a barrel chest. He's from Boston. I think he is a liberal because he listens to public radio 24 hours a day lately. I've been visiting him frequently lately and I think about him between visits. He gets excited when I come by and starts talking before I even reach the door. I think he likes me too. I know this because he brings me gifts - usually red rubber toys dripping with saliva. We are destined for an on-again/off-again relationship. His people return on Saturday night. What I like most about Harry is when it comes to doing business, he gets right to it. There is no dilly dallying in the moonlight with Harry and I.

Oh, awkward.

I had a little car trouble this weekend. I brought my car to the dealer to have the timing belt replaced. I had no symptoms of timing belt problems. I replaced it for preventative reasons and because I like my little car and want to drive it another 70,000 miles. I was offered a free rental car for the afternoon when I brought it in. Nice, huh? I turned it down because I planned to go to lunch with a friend. I came back after lunch to finish waiting. Soon I learned there was a problem. During the timing belt replacement, a hose got pinched. A new hose would not be available until Tuesday. I was offered a free rental car to use. I had my choice of a Civic, Odyssey, Accord, or CRV. I like my Civic so I chose another Civic. I got a brand new Civic to use. With only 700 miles, the new car smell was really strong. And it was blue like my car too. Even with new wheels, it's a hassle. Besides driving across town to the dealer two times instead of one, what things are necessary to take out of your car for a few days? Garage door opener? Check. Swimming passes? Check. Sunglasses? Check. Keys for work? Check. Bird book? That can wait. Bringing the rental back is the same process in reverse. Plus, after running errands, I had some extra stuff in my car. Grabbing my purse, coat, sunglasses, garage door opener, lunchbox, leather gloves, and . . . Oh, crap. I cannot believe this. I have to carry a brand new rice cooker into a Honda dealer. (Did you know rice burner is a pejorative term for Asian cars?) I can't even put it in a bag because I declined a bag at the store (being ecologically conscious and all). I debated leaving it outside on the sidewalk with my coat thrown over it. I decided to bring it in and hope no one took offense. I didn't mean offense. My rice cooker bit the dust and I needed a new one. My carrying it into a Honda dealership was purely coincidence. The service manager gave me a HUGE discount on labor because of the hassle of driving out there twice. All in all, I had a good experience there with the exception of that one awkward moment that I was probably the only one to notice.

Priceless

Tonight I went out visiting. Set out on display was a bride doll. The doll was similar to the one in the photo with the bouquet tied to the hand and the eyes that automatically closed when you laid it down. It looked just like the one I used to have as a child. But this wasn't my bride doll. The bride doll belonged to my older sister and has been sitting in a trunk for 50+ years. The doll was in the trunk; not my sister. She actually held this doll. My sister died when she was seven years old. In the trunk was her first kindergarten painting from North Heights Elementary School. I saw a drawing she made featuring a trip to the circus and a dancing horse-precious artwork. Also in the trunk were pictures made by her classmates from Maternity of Mary school. These pictures, drawn by 7 year old kids who by now must be hitting their sixth decade, featured a couple Thanksgiving pilgrims and many, many Christmas trees. She died in early winter. A card from the eighth grade class at her school documented gift of a pagan baby for the family - the baby would be baptized Cathy Ann. The cover on the card shows several missionaries with an Asian child sitting on the lap. Who is that pagan baby? Is she still alive? I saw the ribbon from her funeral bouquet marked "Daughter." I saw the cards from people who sent flowers. I saw the guest book. I gotta say, people in the 1950's have nicer and more legible handwriting than what I see today. Seeing all these items did not make me feel sad. I felt good to be remembering her with others who knew her too.