Wednesday, May 15, 2013
This Is More Like It
It's warm outside, comfy, not windy, spring-like even, quiet too. When I went out to snap a few pix of the tulips (because I deleted the ones I took yesterday before saving them, I don't know why) the Jenny Wren was singing away and the squirrels were chattering. Uh, I haven't gone deaf, have I? No I haven't, there's a bird chirp and Durwood just snorted at something he read in the paper. After seeing a squirrel stretch itself from the fence to hanging on the oriole feeder to slurp up the grape jelly and having an oriole perch precariously on the hummingbird feeder on a pole close to the house to get a little nectar I moved the oriole feeder into the middle of the yard with other feeders. Maybe that'll keep the furry little rascals out. Since I saw a hummingbird yesterday I asked Durwood to make more "birdie juice" so I could refill both feeders with fresh this morning. The squirrels lean out and drink the back hummingbird feeder dry so he's on the hunt for a looooonger bracket trying to keep that one for the birds too. Damned squirrels. L&SJ have a trap in their front yard and have trapped 16 so far this year, she said yesterday. They take them out to the yard waste dump out by the bay and release them. She said another neighbor is up over 200 trapped and released for the last 3 years. Crikey! (I wonder how much those traps cost?)
Did I tell you that we've got baby bunnies again? The other night I kept seeing this streak of brown go past the patio doors so I paid attention and it was Flash. I went out and there was Bobo sitting by the shed. They are so cute--until I notice that they're eating my plants, then I don't like them anymore.
And Durwood just spotted a female oriole at the birdbath and on the just-moved feeder. Look! The next time she came back she landed on the orange then stretched down to dip her beak into the jelly. Naturally I didn't get a picture.
May 15--Robert Peckham, The Raymond Children. Boys in dresses are confusing. No one dresses little boys in dresses anymore. Peck and Lewis envied the poor village boys who wore pants and worked and played hard. Their days were filled with Latin lessons and deportment. Only on Tuesday did Uncle Raymond take them down to the stables for riding lessons. They rode in pants and begged to keep them on but Momma insisted that they wear the dresses. Uncle Raymond confessed that he had been made to wear dresses when he was a boy and hated it as much as they did. He promised to teach them to shoot in the fall.
Time to find some breakfast--granola, yogurt and fruit today, I think--then get ready for work. One of these days, someday in the far, dreamy future I won't have to go to work, but then no one will give me a paycheck every Monday, will they? But then I won't have to stop playing with my computer and my yarn and my fabric and my books and... and... and watching the birds to go to work either. I do like my job it's just the going that gets old. Anyway, ta-ta for now.