A few random facts about me

A real scare on the laptop today…black monitor, live cursor, and the Dell wouldn’t turn off. Sick, sick, sick feeling. I moaned when I had to call the Dell Techie from New Delhi. I spent an hour on the phone, full of static, but I’m back in business. I cringe when they call me “Marry”. Add to that, a two-hour loss of cable TV, phone, and internet. I'm wired.

Now for the post.

I’m smitten with this wonderful world of blogging. I’ve received a number of “blogger” awards and stored them away in my notes but rarely talk about them. I should take the time to add them to my sidebar because I’m truly flattered and happy to receive them. Thanks to... well, you know who you are, and this is for you…

The memes! Too many. A post written by Carol at May Dreams Gardens, an organized gardener who churns out posts daily that inform and entertain, reminded me that it’s been almost a year since I participated in a meme. Why? Simply because there isn’t much to tell about myself. I’m an open book here, for the most part. But today, I’ll catch up and list some random facts about myself.

Religion and Politics. I won’t talk about either subject here. I usually withhold my opinions but will give them at the right time and place. Growing up in a home of political and religious debates as a child left me with some not-so-nice memories.

Cooking. I'd rather do something else. Over 50, who needs a three course meal after 6pm? What’s wrong with popcorn and a banana for dinner? If I’m hungry I can cook up good protein-rich and low fat meals, like a lean, mean stew and a great salad. I like yogurt for dinner.

Staying in touch. I don’t know how people in the military manage to stay in touch with dear friends. There are so many good friends in Maryland and Delaware that I have almost neglected for six years. I still miss them and need to reconnect more often. I’m not good at that.

Music. Eclectic. I sing and tap to everything from Janet Jackson and Boyz II Men to Beethoven, Enya, Country, and Lion King and Little Mermaid soundtracks. I swoon with Rhythm & Blues. Spent several years in the car with pre-teens and teenagers in the nineties: Dave Matthews, George Michael, Bare Naked Ladies, Robert Palmer. Love to dance to Prince. Love to dance, period. Hate rap.

Swimming. I floated my way out of a deadly riptide in Ocean City, Maryland once, in front of a crowd of 200,000 people pointing at me. Get the picture? Don’t know if I could save myself by swimming out of a riptide… As far as diving off a board, can’t to do it, but I love winging a cannonball. Never used a nose clip, but I’ve held my nose occasionally, especially on the high dive…takes my breath away.

Public Speaking. Conquered my fear late in life, around the age of 40. The dry mouth, hot cheeks, and butterfly stomach quickly diminished when I coaxed ninety disgruntled high school teachers to use in-house grade reporting. They whined and hated the idea of new technology. There was no need for a water bottle that day because their pitiful reactions got me fired up and helped me to forget how nervous I was. Now, I can talk a blue streak in front of anyone but don’t ask me to honor a retiree or good friend in front of a crowd. I’ll lose my voice and sink into a pathetic pool of tears.

Television. Don’t watch it since starting “the blog”. Exception: American Idol. Before the blog, I was a mindless, reality TV junkie. The Osbornes (yeah, my humor is a bit warped), Real World, Bachelor (ugh), AFV. Still adore classic movies, world news, Jeopardy, King of Queens, and does anybody not love Raymond?

You are all tagged.

Have I told you all how much I appreciate your visits here and entertaining, sweet comments? Oh, I do. My intent is to reply to everyone who visits me but I fail too often. I’ll try harder… A peace offering: what I saw today,

Yes. They are getting to know me ;-)

It's a wonder I get anything done around here.

It’s a mechanical life I lead, lately. Spring and summer fuels me with an incredible amount of energy but I contentedly collapse at 10pm. Now, it's nearing the end of winter and its numbing routine.

Home from work. Greet happy Boston Terriers. Change into yard clothes and algae/seed-caked Sauconys. Clap shoes on driveway. Check on birds. Play with excited Boston Terriers and give them the cookie they expect. Feed Koi. Clean the kitchen and get dinner started. Glance at the mail. Check e-mail and phone messages. Turn the volume up on the TV to hear Oprah and unhappy local news. Unload the dishwasher and decide whether to post on the blog, or not. Sort laundry and put a load in the machine while thinking of possible ideas for a post, realizing I’m a pathetic grasshopper. Fetch camera and a paper bag. Take care of yard poop patrol. Throw the hula hoop for Bella fifteen times. Drop the poop spoon and bag and watch the birds. Take a few pictures, 99% of which are trash.

Tend to the birds, i.e. wipe the feeders, add sunflower seed, nuts, niger seed, and prepare their special treat of Zick dough, worms, and raisins. Throw hula hoops and golf balls another twenty-five times. Do this all before dinner, and that dough smells good enough to eat.

Chat with Mocker for a little while to calm him down.

They’re all worth it. The sweet Nuthatch amazes me as I watch him pluck a nut and carry it away with the clumsiest bill I’ve ever seen.

And this is how it goes - day, after day, after day, after day. It’s tiring, particularly during winter doldrums and when the atmosphere, so dull, messes with my brain. Sort of casts an unwanted spell on my body and mind. My eyes glaze over during picture-taking and I sigh. With every slow, mechanical step I take, I remind myself of the excitement that spring will bring. A multi-vitamin might help, too.

Does this sluggish routine sound familiar to anyone?

She stole the Carolina Wren’s two teaspoons of dough and worms twice last week. Silently, right behind my back, she lapped them up from a little dish on the deck. Licking her chops, she looked up at me, “Go ahead and holler. Won’t bother me because I have no regrets.” When Chloe likes something, there isn’t much that can stop her and she needs to be watched closely, like a hawk.

I snatched a paper plate of dough before she could run with it. She reveled in getting the empty plate just because... “I have your plate.”

Bella looks to me, S-s-ee? She's a thief. You n-n-need to punish her.

Some nights, it's all about the dogs. I thought about putting this post together last night while sitting at the computer, viewing my photos, browsing a few blogs, but it was impossible to read. A diversion is what I needed and Bella knew it.

Will you play w-w-with me or not?

Two front paws pull my left hand off the keyboard.

Play with me?

Please, my needs attention. You are glum. Let’s have f-f-fun.

Maybe if I be c-c-cute? Demure? Stop the computer.

I resisted for a while.

This was her last, possible ploy and it worked.

I f-f-feel tummy rumblings and I’m gonna let it blow.

Oh, the cloud. I had to get up and go. Seriously, this is true. She got her wish, that sweet little twit.

I believe your pets know when you need a break and have more intuition than you think. We should listen to them more often.

Sights and Sounds

A sad sight. Directly across the road from the entrance into my neighborhood, six acres of a refuge for wildlife has been flattened, quickly. Oh how we need another strip mall! I understand that growth has its advantages but I regret that I’ll never see a Loggerhead Shrike there again.

I’d rather believe the trash flew from a refuse vehicle than to blame it on people who don’t care about the landscape. Won’t be long before this parcel of land is flattened just like the photo above, located on the other side of this former country road.

To live on the countryside or in foothills of the mountains sounds divine to me right now. At our age, I wonder if there are assisted living residences tucked away in scenic, natural surroundings. HA! Probably not ;-) My tiny 1/3 acre habitat needs more work. More native plants, flowers, and more bird feeders!

I can recognize birds by sound this year and how they change with the seasons.

Aaaaaack! Belted Kingfishers have reflexes that might drive me to drink. It’s unusual to see her before I hear her mechanical voice. I dream of a nice portrait…

When I listen to my backyard birds, I know who is waiting in the wings.

The feeder King has relaxed. I enjoy the Mockingbird’s voice - a beautiful range of melodies. Still demands to be fed and tends to drive most birds away from his feeder cups, but not as vehemently as before. There is only one other bird who defies him and wins,

I admire this chatty little bird. They make me smile.

Cedar Waxwings have been landing before sunset a few times a week, only for a brief visit and a drink on the pond. I don’t recognize their sound yet.

Red, grumpy-looking old men are loud lately,

and their nags are grumpy, too.

Speaking of grumpy… There was a bird fight low inside the evergreens. A Starling squabble pales in comparison to what I saw. When ten of the terrorists emerged from their battle and perched in a nearby tree to compose themselves, I reacted swiftly by raising Bella’s hula hoop, crashing it against the fence, and sending them on their way. And I growled. I don’t regret it, either.

I’m glad for the sweet-natured.

My scissor-billed White Breasted Nuthatch loves the Zick dough and when it’s gone, he relies on the nuts. He’s a constant visitor and is doing well. A female visited only once…

The Downy and Red-bellied Woodpeckers always excite me and they know it! I hear his cronk for a while before he arrives. He doesn’t like my hair. It’s too bright, even when I think I’m camouflaged behind the wax myrtle. There’s a dark green hat on my shopping list.


I’m seeing some hints of spring.

It’s only February. The weather changes overnight. There could be ice.

I'm already thinking of hummingbirds…

I'm so glad to end this post. I need some caffeine now. Maybe it's the season, but I just bored myself to tears. Heck, I couldn't even think of a decent title for this post. If you're still here, pour yourself a diet Coke or a cup of coffee. I understand...

Humans and Sheep

Here’s a post that's truly “nature related”. HA! From silly humans to sheep. I don't usually offer anything here on Friday nights as I'd rather lounge on the sofa but I had to share this. It's my 300th post over sixteen months.

At the end of the work week, there’s nothing better than a side-splitting laugh. Agree? We were all tired and dull. Our brains and bodies craved a little relaxation. So we chose the police cadets to give us some entertainment. I talked about their discipline recently. It’s tough. They’re bonding and I can see they’re beginning to relax.

They were in strict formation at 1pm but drill Sgt. Moore was delayed in a meeting. Ah...ha! Major Patty Brown and a few others on the staff had an idea. We wanted to play with police recruits today and lighten up a bit.

Each are carrying a wooden block in their left hands at all times. It’s mandatory that they have it with them and inscribed on that block is the nickname they earned during their first six weeks in training. Silly nicknames – a name they’ll carry with them for the rest of their lives, if only in sweet memory.

Major Brown wanted to know the story behind each cadets’ nickname and they had to respond with a serious, respectful reply. If anyone made a sound – muffled laughter or all out hee-haw, they had to get down and push-up.

This is Scrappy Doo.

Major Brown: That’s a ridiculous name, recruit! What in the hell did YOU do to earn the name Scrappy Doo?

Scrappy Doo: “Ma’am! Everyone thinks when I give commands I sound like a scrappy, barking dog. Ma’am!”

And he does.

This is Almond Joy.

Major Brown: Tell me about it, ALMOND…JOY? This name is so damned dumb, I wanna know! Now!

Almond Joy: “Ma’am! The sergeant thinks my head shines like the surface of an Almond Joy candy bar. Ma’am!”

They all fell down. I had tears running down my cheeks and could barely focus the camera.

Major Brown said she’ll never eat another Almond Joy candy bar and we all agreed. It became a wild party and Sgt. Moore would never know about it. We were breaking the rules...

Yes, this is Johnson, aka “Nikki Parker” from the sit-com, The Parkers. She’s a born leader and I’m proud of her.

This was an impromptu blessing of angels. We all need such nice surprises and forbidden laughter on an otherwise tense and boring Friday afternoon.

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Every morning on the way to work, I pass the sheep. The sunrise behind them is breathtaking and I moan every time I must pass them because of traffic. Today, the skies were overcast and dull but I pulled into a side street and crossed a busy road on foot to introduce myself to them. Silently giggling…

Uh-oh. An alien. I got a three-second stare.

Two seconds later,

I thought, “For goodness sakes, don’t be so darn sheepish! Come back here. Let’s get acquainted.”

This is what they thought of me.

Well, I’ll have them eating out of my hand soon. And they’ll like it.

She wears her heart on her sleeve.

Of course Koi don’t have four eyes, silly. Those are olfactory organs called snares, or nostrils.

Wearing heart on sleeve. Yeah, that’s me.

Since I started keeping this on-line journal, I’ve posted about my reasons for blogging here and here. I need to evaluate my blogging addiction occasionally and now I have good reason to contemplate again. Read this blog once and you’ll see it’s all out there folks, slightly guarded in details and subjects, but anyone can read one of my posts and know who I am.

Me, a young girl, never a stand-out, was not the last poor kid picked for sides in a ball game but never the first, either. I sat on the sidelines and watched my elementary school friends roller skate and receive academic and athletic honors in high school because I never had good enough balance for skating and only had a B-average. I could have done a lot better. And I cheered for my friends and shared their triumphs, yet, I always, sometimes sadly, yearned to join them and to feel that natural high and a few moments of fame, too. Always ordinary Mary, seemingly content with mediocrity but possessed a well hidden competitive spirit. I wanted to be an athlete but never had the physical size or confidence to play organized sports so I exercised my skill at basketball with the neighborhood boys in the allies of Baltimore City, and I have the scars to prove it. Loved badminton, too. You can laugh all you want (Gina), but Badminton is a sport.

During Gina’s twelve years of competitive swimming I applauded her and was constantly amazed at her strength. No one can make an athlete swim miles every day. She made it happen. The sport is grueling and caused her tears, disappointment and weariness, but I'm so thankful she heard the sweet, sweet sound of hundreds of people cheering for her and that she felt the thrill of receiving the gold, silver, and bronzes at championship meets from elementary school through college. These joys in life are what we wish for our kids, especially if we never had them. My husband has been recognized nationally for excellence in electrical construction. So, I’ve been their cheerleader, never knowing how it feels to own a plaque, ribbon, or medal and never feeling anything close to that until recently. This is not a pity party. I'm reasoning with myself here.

Two weeks ago I joined the Nature Blog Network. Just curious, I was. I saw many blogs I know well, respect and admire, and joined the NBN but never, in my wildest dreams, expected to rise in the ranks from the bottom of the barrel. My ranking skyrocketed in a week to #27 and I felt giddy, shocked and amazed... People like my blog? They really like it? I’m nothing special – no great talents here in comparison to these nature-loving greats. I had 10th grade biology and don’t remember squat about it. Last week I became feverishly addicted to the rankings to the point I wanted to post more often and agonized over subject matter that would be more suitable for a “nature blog”. What’s worse, I started to feel competitive in a pool out of my league and I didn’t like it. How pathetic. Oooo…ugly, Mare.

A few days later, a friend and mentor, Julie Zickefoose, produced the most honest, overwhelmingly heartfelt post on human nature and her own thoughts on this same subject. Thanks to her, I felt alright. If you haven’t met Julie, please do because she is, hands down, the best out there and loves Boston Terriers, too.

So here I sit, still wondering what I’ll post about next, before I finish this post.

Wait, Mary. Back up and think a little harder about what you enjoy about blogging most of all and what you have to offer.

I love to make people laugh or cry. I love to take photographs with my point and shoot. I love writing about nonsense and my dogs. I love reading comments I receive. I love reading other blogs and forming relationships with people - not necessarily loving what they know. I love to photograph nature but, for the most part, I don’t have a freaking idea of what I’m seeing in front of me. A bug is a bug. I love the excitement I feel when I have a terrific post all ready to go and click “publish”.

So that’s what it’s all about, man. It’s been a wild ride for a little while and now it’s over. I did my best and had my fame. Now I'm back to doing things to float my boat, like

Sneaking outside at midnight in my nightgown and discovering pond sex.

Great Backyard Bird Count

This should be have been the weekend of the great turtle count. The numbers of them I saw surpassed any bird species, so I spent more time gazing at the turtles emerging from their slumber than I spent counting birds. Can’t get enough turtles!

The Northern Cardinals win the prize at my house. Their numbers are ahead of Mourning Doves and House Finches this year. The only way I could get a conservative count was to photograph two trees full of them within a few seconds.

Sorry, guys. You’re outnumbered this time.

As a beginning bird person (I just can't use the word "birder" yet for some odd reason), participating in my first GBBC was fun and gave me a good reason to break my monotonous weekend routine of cleaning house and to get out there - backyard to wetland to pond.

I gave close attention to the ground feeders – the ones I often overlook. A neighborhood cat and a brief appearance of a Cooper’s Hawk kept the feeder areas vacant for a while which made me a bit frustrated. I called in the Boston Terrier Swat Team who were more than happy to terrorize a kitty on the other side of the fence.

A visit to the wetlands was downright disappointing at 9am this morning. I arrived there right out of bed - looking quite scary. Couldn't get the hair to lay down instead of up. It's Monday. Did I forget to mention going to work? Didn’t appeal to me too much. Who wants to go to work when there might be a second chance at a Red-Headed Woodpecker? Huh? I played hooky.

What did I find there?

Plenty of them and a few Mallards. I heard a distracting bird nearby that made me whirl around on my heels several times to find it. Made me wanna scream, "Will you STOP playing games with me???!"

“fee-bee! fee-bee!” On the way out, I found the little trickster on a road sign! It was gone before I could get out of my car. Dang.

The pond was loaded with male Hooded Mergansers. I've been wondering where all the guys were…

They nearly outnumbered the Canada Geese.

Mystery Duck! (Please click to enlarge most of these photos.) I can’t find this bird in any of my field guides. I concentrated on looking for the black ring on white. Any help out there?


On one of the dreariest, coldest days a month ago, I was taken aback at seeing a female House Finch sleeping soundly in one of the feeders, all puffed up in a little finch ball. I startled her and she flew away in an instant.

Yesterday I sighed with a heavy heart, as I am sure it’s the same girl. She enjoyed the sunflower seeds, oblivious to potential danger or any stimulation through sound and sight. Conjunctivitis, perhaps.

I spoke to her quietly and there was no response. I clapped my hands and she continued to crack a seed. Possibly, she’s blind and deaf.

I waved my hands near her face and tapped the feeder gently in hopes she would realize I was there. Maybe she saw my shadow.

The rest of the House Finches here look very good since I began close examinations.

So alone and vulnerable, she floated away, to a low evergreen close by.

This bird thing I have going on has given me so much joy. I've learned plenty and lived through the arrival of Starlings, Grackles, Rock Doves, and House Sparrows; upsets over Bluebird drama and their recent disappearance; Barn Swallows, and a damned House Sparrow kicking a sweet Carolina Wren out of the Barn Swallow nest recently. I'm OK. But honestly, there are times when I want to withdraw, step inside the house, and close the blinds. Seriously, I do.

Another Visit to the Vet I Won't Forget, Four-eyed Koi, and Sofas

Miscellany tonight.

You raise your children in hopes they’ll become rational adults with the ability to think ahead and predict outcomes to keep the chaos level low in their lives. At twenty-five, Gina is practical, analytical, and organized. Today, I raised my eyebrows and wondered what on earth was she thinking?

I helped her haul one hundred and thirty pounds of dog muscle to the vet for exams. Mr. Biggins was due for his annual boosters and a check-up and Bamma-lamma-ding-dong needed a Bordetella vaccine and a check on his ear infection and inflamed face wrinkles. I, the wise mother, would have made separate appointments.

What??? No french fries? Snort.

I drove Mr. Biggins and Gina drove Bam. We arrived at the veterinarian’s parking lot and they instinctively knew they weren’t stopped in the McDonald’s drive-thru.

Oh, how I wished I could have taken my camera inside but when you have a fifty-seven pound hunk of Bulldog muscle at the end of your lead, the camera stays in the car!

Before all of us exploded through the entrance of the vet’s office, Bam needed to poop. In traditional male dog style, he marked his territory with his thick and powerful hind legs that hurled his dump onto my right pant leg. Gina held onto worried Mr. Biggins, laughing until she was red in the face. I did not think it was funny.

Mr. Biggins, the big brown Boxer mix, loveable sissy dog turns into a frightened, ten-pound pup at the vet. I heard his high-pitched agony as three assistants held him while the fourth trimmed his nails. English Bulldog, Bamma-lamma-ding-dong, loves to be poked and prodded with instruments and such. He nuzzles onto the vet’s lap, begging for inspection. Nothing bothers his wonderful self. A veterinarian’s dream dog!

We headed back home with a bag full of prescriptions for Bam. He needs his own personal medicine cabinet or pill box. Gina winced at the bill... That’s what you get when you love a high maintenance little man-dog.

I had planned to stop at the nail salon afterwards and maybe stop in the mall for a Lancome free gift. But my jeans were soiled and I imagined an odor might linger…

Good day to examine and clean the pond skimmer and filter. Do some bird counting. It was a glorious, almost 70 degree day.

I turned off the waterfall for a little while and realized there is a lot of work to do everywhere outdoors.

I remembered times I would lay across the edge of the pond and drop pellets into their open mouths. Koi are very trainable and pet-like. I should work with them more often and stage a Koi circus.

Ah, the wonders of photography reveal that some Koi have four blue eyes.

There is more news.

We have never owned a leather sofa. Until today.

The new sofa and chair are smaller than what we had and they provide us more space in our family room. Italian leather feels wonderful… I wanted it to look this way just for a day. Only one day. Neat and tidy.

We had a kitchen conference. They did not like it. The sofa was all wrong. There was a protest.

We don’t like the new sophie. It’s hard and cold. We need our holey blankets and pillas.

Ok. Put your feet up. Sit for a while. Welcome to our house.

"Thanks" and a red-headed lifer

Two blogging friends up north in snow country, Trixie at Trixie’s View in Alaska and Ruthie at Nature Knitter in Minnesota, told me I make their day. They make my day, too. Now I have an opportunity to present this “award” to others who make my day. Can I stay up all night and list everyone I know? No. Can I decide who deserves an award? No. Actually, I don’t consider this “You Make My Day” as an award. I think it’s a nice affirmation that everyone needs sometimes. I appreciate and admire everyone in my little blogging community here and I want to tell all of you that YOU MAKE MY DAY. Everyone likes to receive nice surprises, so if you have the time and are inclined to give a pat on the back to those you appreciate and multiply the smiles, please do.

Cathy at Looking Up. She’s has a lot going on right now and I miss her poetic charm and beautiful photos.

David at Leave Me Alone I’m Digging. He lives to dig and transplant his gardens. His writing style is hilarious!

Donna at KGMom Mumblings. I admire her patience with her English 102 students. Donna can write. She's a good book.

Jayne at Journey Through Grace. Jayne inspires me with her optimistic outlook on life. She is the definition of grace.

Julie Zickefoose. I feel good vibes, learn, laugh, and cry when I visit her.

Larry at Brownstone Birding. He hunts down the birds and finds 100,000 a month. His dry sense of humor makes me laugh out loud.

Laura at Somewhere in NJ. You can feel her softness and charm in her writing. Now and then, she rants and curses a little bit and we all love it.

Lynne at Hasty Brook. Sweet Lynne has a lot on her plate right now and I’m so happy when she takes time to post. She always makes me smile.

Nina at Nature Remains. Nina is so in touch and in love with nature. Her beautiful words and photos make me swoon.

Sherry at Q’s Corner. When I feel stressed and out of control, she is able to calm me down. A good friend.

Susan at Susan Gets Native. Susan’s blog is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get :-)

For a real treat, visit them.

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I want to share something that happened yesterday. Around noon I saw an e-mail in my home inbox from the county Audubon listserve:

I took my ornithology class to the wetland behind HHGreg this morning and had a ton of waterfowl. Northern Shovelers, Pintail, plenty of Woodies, a Ruddy Duck, Gadwall, 20+ Mallards, some Canadas, and Hooded Mergs. Also a Red-headed Woodpecker, 2 GBHs on nests, 6 Rusty Blackbirds, an immature Coopers strafed the lake, and a dozen female Redwings down in the phragmites/cattails/whatever.

Oh, my. I just couldn’t stand it. I had heard of this spot before but hadn’t visited. So, an hour early off from work, I made the short trip to Concord. I parked behind the shopping center near the dumpsters and quickly changed from high heels to Crocs.

This is the wetland. Birdless. No waterfowl. Disappointed. It began to rain on me but I thanked the heavens. See the construction clearing behind it at the top left of the photo? I took a deep sigh of sadness.

It’s not a scenic place but it’s a hot spot for cavity nesting birds. On second thought, yes, it is scenic. I can appreciate it. I regretted not having my binoculars.

My off-white Crocs sunk into the red clay when I moved closer to the fence to see a beautiful red, black and white flash against the grayness.

My first sighting of a Red-headed Woodpecker was worth the trip and discolored Crocs. I’ll visit again, very soon.

Poor Quality Bird Photos and Police Funnies

No, Mary does not take great bird photos. The majority of them look like this. The Great Blue Heron was antsy and didn't give me a break.

I’ve taken so few photos that all I have to offer are these…bad…photos. One out of forty might be worthy of National Geographic publishing (just joking), so when I take less than five a day which is the norm lately, this is what I get.









I admit this is not too bad. She’s a beauty, despite her photographer.




Fiddling with the camera, I missed the sip and dip at the pond.




The skies are loaded with vultures and hawks and I get dizzy, as you can see in this photo. A low-flying hawk in the center of the photo would make me proud.

Faceless Carolina Wren. I cursed after this shot.




Whaaaat? Ugh.




Can you find the Tufted Titmouse?



They blend in with the landscape very well. White Throated Sparrows are beautiful off the ground, like the Juncos.

Big news! Just before sundown this evening, a Carolina Wren bedded down in my hand-made Barn Swallow nest. I was blaming the nest renovation on House Sparrows. I’ll take the Carolina Wrens! The Barn Swallows probably won’t return anyway. But…maybe I’ll make another nest… Any thoughts on a Wren using a nest modeled for a Barn Swallow?

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Regarding Police Funnies, the cadets are working hard and learning a load of emotional discipline. During formation and other exercises, they are forbidden to express emotion. No tears, no anger or contempt, and no sense of humor. They are tested, ruthlessly! Look at their faces.



I heard of this story and I’m glad I wasn’t there. During formation, cadets are expected to be spotless and well groomed. One unfortunate cadet was coated with cat hair all over his black uniform and hat. Sgt. Moore questioned him about his lack of grooming and the cadet replied, “SIR! It’s cat hair, SIR!”

“What’s your cat's name?”, questioned the Sergeant.

“Fluffy, SIR!”

“What kind of F’ing, blankety-blank name is THAT for your @#@$$%, F-ing blankety-blank cat? And why is your F-ing cat crawling all over you, cadet blankety-blank?”

No expression. Never a hee-haw or fall down laughing even when it’s totally hilarious. This is what they are trained to do when they’re faced with a hilarious crime scene. And, believe me, they are out there. It would be disrespectful to hee-haw at victims or during crazy situations.

My daughter has a face that tells her story, minute by minute. You can read her feelings in an instant by glancing at her. She would never make it through basic law enforcement training if she wanted to, and neither would I. It would only take a few hours in the academy before she would be reduced to a puddle of angry tears and severe consequences. You see, I too, have this laughing or crying thing going on. Have you ever laughed uncontrollably in church on Sunday? I have, when my Dad hit loud, sour notes in song and praise. Laughter in church is forbidden and viewed as a total lack of respect. Sorry. When I was in the fifth grade, I had a giggling disorder that made my old, wooden student desk rock and knock on the hardwood floor. All I needed to do was look at Joe Shiavoni’s nose…he was small but his honker was way larger than life. My teacher, Miss Norton, who I thought was old but was probably younger than twenty-five, raised her right eyebrow at me many times and I went home from school with damp panties a lot during that school year. But she liked me.

So, I guess there is truth in the statement,

“There are people who are meant to be the police,

and there are people who are meant to call the police.”

The latter would be me.

Lizard Life

How've ya been, lady? Have ya seen ladybugs lately?

Unseasonably warm, sunny days during the winter months revive lizards that live with us. When the western sun bakes the brick on the front of the house, they yawn, stretch, and venture out from beneath their bedding for a tanning session. I was delighted to see him yesterday!

A Ground Skink made an appearance in the garage a few weeks ago. It couldn't have been more than two and a half inches long.

I spent most of my life as a city girl up north and never saw lizards in the wild until I visited my daughter at the University of NC at Wilmington eight years ago. Since then, and moving to Charlotte a couple of years ago, I can’t keep my eyes off them.

Skinks and Eastern Fence Lizards spend their days on the south and west side of the house. Oodles of them. Harmless little reptiles that gobble up the bugs. If one of them mistakenly sped up my pants leg, I might feel differently about them.

Here are a few photos I’ve taken since last spring. It’s a pleasure to photograph lizards because they pose for minutes at a time for easy photo shoots, unlike the birds and dogs. My IDs might be incorrect but I’m giving it a try. (Click to enlarge the photos. See the gleam in their eyes.)

Eastern Fence Lizard, male. The most common type here.

Five-lined Skink. Small and plentiful. Love that bright blue tail.

A male Eastern Fence Lizard, raising himself to show his blue metallic underside. He's very cooperative for the camera.

I remember taking this photo. Flat on my driveway, nose-to-nose with him. Was he smiling at me? I had just given him a drink of water. It was probably 103 degrees in July.

Might be a Southeastern Five-lined Skink, one of the largest lizards here at about eight inches in length.

She's rough looking! The female Eastern Fence lizard, grey in color as opposed to the brown male.

She's looks marvelous here. It's one of my favorite photos.

Here's a sweet memory of warm breezes by the pond. Ahhh. Spring. It’s coming.

Wanderlust

Today at 10:00 a.m. There has to be something better to do… I’m going to cut myself loose and sneak outside for a bit. Too many weeks without a break or a lunch hour is... just…too…much. If they miss me? They’ll get over it.


When you cease to notice subtle seasonal changes, it isn’t because you don’t care about them. It means you need to change your mind about what’s important and shove the interfering clutter to the side of your plate. Focus on what you would like to have in the middle of your plate, instead. My mind has become unclear, stale, and as uninteresting as that folder of outstanding invoices pictured above. Do I make sense? Gosh, I need someone to write for me.

Look around you. Face the sun and take out-of-focus photos if you are in a hurry. They are worth it. I've forgotten how to focus on buds and blooms.

Stand with your back to the sun, too, and see tiny life forms emerge. I suddenly remembered the April freeze of 2007!

Look at that stunning Nandina off the side of the road and stop the car, quickly.

I didn’t notice the Forsythias in bloom on Tuesday or Wednesday when I drove by the elementary school. Today, I did.

I heard its voice before I saw it soaring low above an open field.

Hallucinate. Believe you see a Golden Eagle from afar while your heart pounds, and smile. I truly thought that it just might be a Golden Eagle instead of a Vulture until I reviewed the photo ;-)

For you, Lynne.

Tip-toe a little closer. You’ll know when you’re pushing the card too far. And I did.

Vulture was very on to me. Darn.

I was certain this bird was a Black Vulture until I examined the underside of its wings and saw a little pink on its face. This is the first Turkey Vulture I’ve seen in North Carolina! Did I do good, Susan?

Remember to practice with the burst mode on your camera more often.

Twenty minutes later, back at the office, and everything was under control. No harm done. I felt invigorated, ambitious, and ready to tackle anything! Bring it on!


If you believe that, you need to clear your mind, too. Remove the clutter.

January Bird Count..."fowl" attitude...

A simple and common puddle of rain, not to be taken for granted - ever. Four days ago, rain settled in a soft hole where a Mandevilla lost its life last summer during the drought. Twenty more puddles like this one during the next few months might raise lake and river levels to free us of worry.

It’s been thrilling to see a life bird since I’ve been looking for them. It has never appealing to me to keep a “life bird” list. I don’t have one. I enjoy watching birds and photographing them on good days. Larry at The Brownstone Birding Blog invited everyone to participate in a January Bird Count. He sees more birds in one week than I see in a whole month! So I made the effort. Here’s a January 2008 list of birds I saw during my round-trip travels from home to work, grocery store, etc. Blue font were seen in my backyard.

Mourning Dove
Northern Cardinal
Carolina Chickadee
Tufted Titmouse
Carolina Wren
White Throated Sparrow
Song Sparrow
House Sparrow
American Goldfinch
House Finch
Brown Headed Nutcatch
White Breasted Nuthatch
Yellow Rumped Warbler
Downy Woodpecker
Red Bellied Woodpecker
Brown Headed Cowbird
Cooper’s Hawk
Black Vulture (overhead)
European Starling
Dark-eyed Junco
Pine Siskin
American Robin
Red-Winged Blackbird
Cedar Waxwing
Pine Warbler
Blue Jay
American Crow
Fish Crow
Eastern Bluebird
Red-Shouldered Hawk
Great Blue Heron
Ring-Billed Gull
Ring-Necked Duck
Northern Shoveler
Hooded Merganser
Mallard
Canada Goose
Canvasback
Purple Gallinule (just kidding)
Belted Kingfisher

Not a list as impressive as others I’ve seen, but not a shabby one either, considering it’s from someone who doesn’t get out much.

My backyard feeding was glorious for a long time. Everyone knows it’s my decompression time after work – a time to smile and relax. I’ve been through Common Grackles, Starlings, and large flocks of Pigeons, but I’ve never housed House Sparrows until recently. I’m complaining. Yes, I know to love all creatures, great and small. Please hear me out.

It’s not their fault they are opportunists who thrive around people, compete for nests and attack other bird populations for their own right to life.

A few weeks ago I counted four. After whipping out my binoculars I saw six males yesterday. I did not care to zoom in on those unattractive dirty throats. Perhaps they are spreading the news to surrounding strip malls that Mary’s View has it all! “Fly with me and go first class, baby!”

I cater to the Carolina Wrens by serving them a small dish of their own worms and Zick dough every day, on my deck. My face flushed to hear the feet tapping of a male House Sparrow attempting to land on the dish, only four feet away from where I stood. It looked up to me, giving that one-eyed stare and cocked its head to see me clearly for a few seconds before it flew away. I was stunned at his bravery and nonchalant attitude. Then came the big blow - I quietly blew a fuse - at the sight of one pecking at the nesting material in the nest I made for Barn Swallows. The audacity of this newcomer is hard to swallow.

See him? On...my...pond.

Combine my disgust with these new intruders with the killer Mockingbird and the Starling poop similar to Rubber Cement I tracked onto the beige carpet in my family room yesterday, and it’s safe to say I’m not feeling joyful. I invite someone to help me relax and laugh about it.

On a lighter note, I purchased two pairs of dress pants for work last week. I rarely try clothes on for size under the dreaded lights in dressing rooms, especially if I’m feeling a bit pudgy after lunch in the food court. They hung in my closet for almost a week with the sales tags attached before I became brave and tried them on today…a size smaller than I usually wear...and they fit perfectly! Isn’t that something to Yeee Haaa about, ladies and gents?

Until my attitude changes and I help myself to stop snarling, I’ll be quiet here for a while. I’ll starting taking photos again and come back with a brighter outlook. I hope.

An exotic gift

does wonders for a tired soul in late January. I’ll get to the gift later.

The best photo of a Belted Kingfisher I’ve taken so far but not good enough!

I’ll share all of the few photos I’ve taken this week, one of which is a photo of a Pine Warbler on campus. A lifer? Yes. Why am I not thrilled? Because,

it’s been a real struggle at my house. The Mockingbird saga continues but the situation is getting a little better. He’s still in the attack mode, but less often, and I haven’t seen a dead house finch since last weekend. Earlier in the week, I let the feeders dry up for two or three days in hopes he would leave and check into rehab due to dough withdrawal. Take the house sparrows with you, too!

There were only nuts and store-bought suet cakes on the birds’ dinner table. No seed. And a rain storm was approaching on Thursday evening. One hundred birds were waiting for me and the Nuthatches and Chickadees returned from their long vacation away from here…

How could I deny all of them?

How could I deny my resident beauties?

I stood on the deck and watched them waiting for the “evening fill”. In just a few minutes I decided, “No. Can’t do it. Won’t deny them.” A flock of Cedar Waxwings flew overhead while I brought out the BOSS and Thistle and showered all of them with an intoxicating amount Zick dough. We’ll get through this, somehow.

Back inside, dinner in the oven, I opened a surprise package from Jayne at Journey Through Grace. All I did was count nearly eighty Goldfinches in her backyard... It was a fun task and I most certainly did not expect a prize.

David Burnie

A large, coffee table style book, with over five hundred luscious pages of the most glorious birds of the world you will ever see! It’s more than a field guide. Numerous topics are covered including anatomy, birds under threat, extinct birds, habitats, and much more. I can’t keep my hands away from it as the photography in this book is absolutely stunning. My toes haven’t uncurled yet.

Included are the most exotic, brilliantly colored African and South American birds as well as the common North American birds I see every day.

Osprey. Whew!

Atlantic Puffin. Poor thing. Sad looking but cheek-pinching cute!

Eurasian Hoopee, in search of peace pipes and local Pow-Wows in the wrong places.

Wonder if I can get a low fare on a round-trip to South America? Ooooo. Motmot. Love the name.

Me in the morning, right out of bed.

Now, THAT’S a great photo of a Belted Kingfisher!

Jayne, thank you.

Your Georgian accent is as sweet as you and your grace arrived when I needed it.