The Crazy Bird Lady

I suspect that I'm in the running for that title.  There was an article in Wednesday's

newspaper about the robins coming north looking for worms which are now residing under 2' of snow, that they don't eat seeds and the purple martins are on their way, they eat insects and won't be finding any of those since it's been too cold for any bugs to hatch so the naturalist at the Wildlife Sanctuary recommended putting out mealworms (dried or live), berries, and suet.  I thought about stopping at the birdseed store down the street for some mealworms today but didn't get around to it.  A followup article in today's paper let me know that I'd saved myself a fruitless trip because no one in town has mealworms in stock, people have bought them all and are lining up for expected shipments.  What really got me was the quote in

today's article that people have brought about 40 starving and dehydrated robins to the Sanctuary since the storm.  Now we always have water for birds (and squirrels, let's be honest) and in the summer a few robins figure out how to flap and balance on the suet feeder perch or to fly up from the ground to nab a beakful of suet to eat when they land so I had a brainstorm.  I went out and pulled the suet cakes out of the feeder, put in new ones, chopped up some raisins pretty small, chopped up half an apple really small, and stirred the raisins and apples in with the mashed up suet cake.  Then I pressed the mixture into the plastic tray that the suet cakes come in, slipped it into a sandwich bag, and put the whole thing into the freezer overnight.  I figured it might not stick together well so freezing it would give it some rigidity so I can shove the cake into a suet cage I unearthed from downstairs.  Tomorrow I'll pop it out of the tray, put it into the cage, and hang the cage on an empty crook out back.  Robins are mostly ground feeders but I figure some birds (or squirrels more likely) will start investigating the stuff on the crook and pieces of it will fall to the ground and maybe a robin will find it and tell its friends.  In the meantime I chopped up the other half of the apple, piled it into a old oriole feeder cup, and put it out on the crook just in case a hungry robin or purple martin comes by.



Last weekend's snow is melting.  This morning I noticed that the hyacinth in the corner by the porch is uncovered and still gamely blooming.  It got bent over by the weight of all that snow but it's still blooming away and the other bulbs are shrugging off the snow and coming on strong too.





I thought this morning's sunrise was moody and dramatic, not as welcome as yesterday's blue sky and bright sun, but nice just the same.  The sun came out during the day and the temperature got up high enough that even Durwood, who is always cold, suggested that we open a window and even crack the patio door open a bit in the afternoon.  Woohoo!  Real air.

After my last caregivers class this afternoon I went to Joann Fabrics for some green and gold yarn because the Packer hat I knitted for OJ is way too big and the yarn is too scratchy.  I found some sage green cotton yarn I liked too and then there was that stretch denim for 40% off...  I don't feel bad, I could have done so much more damage.  I didn't even get out my charge card.





April 21--Paul Gauguin, The Swineherd.  

Pyramid hills of green and rust
shelter the village from north winds.
Cypress tree exclamation points
punctuate the farms.
Claude ambles up the path,
his porcine companions snuffle
along behind,
explore for delicacies in the verge.
Claude keeps up a running commentary.
The pigs don't respond.
~~~~~

Tomorrow we're meeting my brother and sister-in-law, TWA and ARA, for lunch at Joe Rouer's Bar in Duval, about 20 miles north of here.  I can't decide if I'm more excited about seeing them or eating one of the world's best hamburgers.  Maybe a little of both.   And then in the early evening DS and I are going to an author talk by Christopher Moore, one of our favorite authors.  This weekend there have been seminars and author talks and all manner of writer and reader things going on around town but going to listen to Christopher Moore is the only thing I'll manage to get to.  Maybe next year I'll have myself better organized...  
--Barbara