Unusual Suspect

This morning it appears I may have been all wrong, blaming the grackles and starlings for emptying the bird feeders

and just now Bambi strolled around the willow tree to browse -- no, browsing is on low tree branches -- but what if it's nibbling on the catnip Dannie once planted there?  Will we have a drunken deer?  A befuddled fawn?

Backyard Drama



House Finch(es?)

All the bird feeders are full, it's lovely weather, God's in his heaven, all's right with the world.  No, that's from The year's at the Spring -- today it's more like What is so rare as a day in June?


Carolina Wren
 

 This window provides endless entertainment -- goldfinch(es?),  cardinals, lovely nuthatch(es?), the bossy blue jay who scares everyone else up into the willow tree but he's worth it.  And I won't have to refill the feeders for at least a week, which is just as well -- these days I don't go out there alone for fear of falling.



Flicker

Squawk squawk

But then -- cue creepy organ music -- for the first time I can remember, big  birds swoop in.   I don't resent the flicker -- so decorative.  But the grackles come in droves, scare everyone else away and gorge on everything in sight.  And then the starlings bring some of the most unappealing babies you ever saw, with such continuous squawking I have to close the window.
     Yelling and fighting, those Disney villains take no time at all to empty everything but the peanut feeder -- for some reason they can't seem to get very far with that one.  When they leave, the sparrows zip in.  Their bills aren't really right for nuts but they try.  For the first time I take a  video, so you can share nine seconds of the excitement.

 Pay attention to the southwest corner of the feeder.

That's where the tragedy is -- I took a final still after the others flew off.

Yes, that ball of fluff in the lower left was a dead sparrow.  Judging from the excitement half an hour before, I'd say it was accidentally pecked to death.  And the big question was -- what to do? No way I could go out there alone without getting in trouble. 

Well, quick windup -- landmark event.  For the first time ever (if I remember right, always uncertain these days) I phoned for help.  Amy came over and brushed aside my apologies with "It's okay, I dispose of cat shit all the time." 

I can't tell you what she did, as I did not watch.  But then we refilled the feeders, and I'm back in business.  I may be pretty much restricted to this chair lately, but you can't say there isn't plenty of drama in my world.

Computer Geeks

     On Skype today with my son in Vancouver (I'll never take these miracles for granted) to clean up some mysterious problems that arose in the administration of this blog-- and we finally find -- okay, he finally finds -- the page (the screen?) we're looking for.   
     While he's solving my problems, I spend the time reading the Blogspot manual, or whatever it's called when it's online, and one of the first sentences takes me back to my original computer, a hefty (and expensive) IBM, must have been around 1983.
     That machine was so sophisticated, did  marvelous things I couldn't begin to understand, but when it came to the manual (which I guess you can see up there on the left)-- well, it was clear that the manual, like the computer itself, was probably the work of boys who still had zits, and who
                      couldn't spell.

     More than 30 years later I get the feeling not much has changed -- here's part of a sentence I found today on a really sophisticated page intended for Blogspot administrators:

   ... use the login info for the selected links then type youre blogger identety to edit anything else 

Wrapping Up

Because I haven't figured out how to respond to comments( it's shameful, how mentally lazy I am these days)  -- I'll tie up a few loose ends today:  yes, that's a normal red squirrel; I just never had one before.  Yes, I cleaned up the exploded hard-boiled eggs; it took an hour and ten minutes but what else have I got to do?  Yes, I contacted the English Department at Fisher (thanks for the web address but I phoned, using my land-line, showing my age again) and Deborah Vanderbilt came over and picked up that textbook, which she needed promptly.
She looked over my collection of Jane Austen translations (72 volumes in 28 languages) --  and read the author's name from one -- turns out she had once lived in Japan.  For that matter, last evening my son and daughter-in-law arrived, just back from a trip to the Baltic -- so now I have an Estonian Pride and Prejudice.

My Academic Career

Back in the 1980s I taught real estate licensing in night school, for the Continuing Education Department at St. John Fisher College.  Maybe I was an adjunct lecturer -- or are there adjunct instructors?
So anyhow, last Saturday the mail carrier delivered this package and I opened it without stopping to read the label --

 

Mysteries! 

 Who is Deborah Vanderbilt, and does she need Academic Writing for Students in a hurry (it's hard for me to go to the post office), and after 30 years where did the publisher get my address, and why is the zip code wrong, and if they're going to send me free books, why not something interesting?

Need Something to Do

There's not a thing on my calendar today, which feels so luxurious -- no need to watch the clock, worry about missing an appointment or showing up for something on the wrong day.  After a nicely balanced breakfast, I put up some eggs to hard-boil, and came out to the computer -- without getting dressed! -- to check email and play Freecell.   I was trying for a perfect record to show you (but you can see I lost it on the fourth round) and idly thinking about what Mother said years ago, and how my neighbor at the seniors lunch said the exact same thing  "Lately I can only do one thing a day." 
I mentally checked off the few things I do these days -- no laundry needed yet, groceries holding out, bird feeders filled, column sent off up to date. I was thinking it probably isn't good for me not to have at least one thing to do and -- wait a minute!  what's that smell? 
Long-time readers of this blog already know what it is.  I don't think I've told you about every occurance, but it happens at least once a year. 

"But didn't you attach a timer to your rollator?"
"Yes, but then I have to remember to set the timer."
And I can't really afford to throw out any more pots -- this time I'll have to scrub.
It's the bits on the floor that pose the most problem -- no way I can bend down to use a dustpan.  Vacuum is out of the question.  Will they carpet-sweep up or are they too sticky?  And the cleaning lady won't be here till Tuesday. 

This last bit is way out in the front hall -- that's the livingroom carpet on the right.  This, at least, I can pick up with the grabber.

 Rather than face the problem, I took the pictures and came out here to tell you about it.  Still not dressed.  Have a nice day!

Exciting Mystery

Okay, I give up on that little squirrel.  It's your standard Red Squirrel and I just never saw one here before.  Also I don't see how they're allowed to call these feeders squirrel-proof. 
Those peanuts are $3.95 a pound in Wegman's.


No question the world has been shrinking -- no more shopping except for groceries (where there are fine shopping carts for support;
people leave them for each other
at the handicap parking spaces), no more concerts, no lectures, no swimming never mind no scuba, no travel -- no leaving town -- etc etc.  So  I get my excitement from the view at this desk chair, all day.  You can't really tell from here, but I watch about a full acre of suburban back lawns, with a thin strip of woods behind.
And this morning -- an exciting mystery!!

You can see it for yourself -- I could, the minute I sat down here.  Directly up from that square suet feeder, right below the overhang --  here, I'll give you a closeup.

 

 

Now where on earth did that ribbon come from?  How did it get looped up in the stump of the old willow? 

 That's the tree that I had them amputate a few years ago when some of it fell on this office -- see earlier blogs.  And come to think of it, was it only a few years ago that I was able to walk way out back and take pictures?

 Well, you take your excitement where you can find it!

 

Okay, here's the red streak down its back. 
It's just possible that I'm obsessing on this squirrel.  But but after all, the blog is supposed to be about Being Old.  And when you're old, you have to take excitement where you can find it. 

Still Obsessing

Comparisons

Just now an ordinary grey squirrel paused on the exact spot the little mystery guy likes.  So maybe the grey squirrel is only twice as big as the one that gets in to eat from the bird feeders. 

 At any rate, I don't buy the suggestion that it's a juvenile.  Two reasons -- because the grey squirrels run from it,  and because what's with that red streak up its back (which you can't see very well here) and what about that white eye ring?

Sorry, but it sounds funny.

My son the ornithologist tells me that next July he'll be in Washington attending the biggest ever meeting of bird scientists, so I looked it up: the American Ornithologists’ Union plus the Association of Field Ornithologists, BirdsCaribbean, CIPAMEX, Cooper Ornithological Society, Smithsonian Migratory Bird Center, Society of Canadian Ornithologists, Sociedad de Ornitología Neotropical, and the Wilson Ornithological Society.
 
But when I told him about a group I recently joined, the Hearing Loss Association of America, he just laughed.  One might even say he sniggered.  "Sorry, but it just sounds funny."  And then when I mentioned the organization at the seniors luncheon last week, the woman next to me giggled.  "Sorry, but it just sounds funny." 
Come on -- what else would you call it?  There are a lot more of us than there are bird people.  What's more, as it happens, we're

also having a convention, also in Washington, also this summer (not me of course; I no longer travel.)  And we're also joining with another organization.   I hesitate to translate the IFHOH.  It has its headquarters in Stockholm, that's impressive, right?  So are you ready?...no giggling now...  it's the INTERNATIONAL FEDERATION OF HARD OF HEARING PEOPLE.
(My other son, the writer, would probably correct "people" to "persons".)

                         No particular reason for these two birds; I just came across the picture and felt they'd dress up this post.

Squirrel Update

Got a nice note today from a friend --it's refreshing to hear from someone of a decent age who reads blogs -- who says when she moved to a senior residence she took along a couple of her bird feeders.  Aha!  At another place where I once inquired, I was told "No, because they attract rats." Come on -- I've had deer, squirrels, just once a mouse -- but never, in all these years, any rats.
       What's more, her place, like most of the other local "residences",  has a pond.  I suspect those have something to do with sewer codes rather than landscaping, but she can watch a heron from her windows.  It's enough to make one re-think the whole question of Moving Somewhere and Taking Things Easy.  Things are, to be honest, Getting a Bit Harder. 
        Meanwhile -- today I learned two more things about that little odd squirrel who gets into the feeders.  Wish I could show you but the encounter went too quickly to get a video.  One of the normal grey squirrels showed up, and I got a chance to compare them.  This new little guy is less than half as large -- maybe one-third the size of what I think of as regular squirrels.  And the second thing -- the little one turned around and lunged at that grey squirrel, which  scurried off at top speed.  All of this is so absorbing I've stopped resenting the lost peanuts and birdseed.  This one is, after all, just trying to make a living, and it doesn't eat all that much.
      That brown streak goes from the tail all the way up its back. It's maybe twice the size of a chipmunk -- but you wouldn't call it a chipmunk, right?

Got a Mug Shot!

Aha!  That's why this squirrel can get into the squirrel-proof bird feeders -- it's only half the size of the grey squirrels around here.  And then there's that chestnut streak down its back -- are any of you squirrel specialists?  Can anyone tell me if this is something worth writing to Cornell about?
(A few years ago I found a strange bug on the bathtub, sent a picture to Cornell and was told I'd made the first report from Monroe County of the invading Stink Bug.) 
                  Citizen-scientist!

So do squirrels ever mate with chipmunks?  I guess not, but that's sort of the size of this free-loader.  Any information appreciated.

Impressionist Backyard

Yes, the lawn is full of dandelions.  No, I'm not going to do anything about it.  (Pictures taken through window;  I can't walk on grass any more.)  I don't want chemicals, and when  the crew descends with those big riding mowers, they probably bring seeds from other people's yards anyhow.
The veronica is a lovely light blue, more vivid than it appears in this picture.  There's even some little pink stuff,  and I tell myself the  effect is sort of Monet's Giverny.
 I won't feel this complacent, of course, when those dandelions start seeding out into puffballs -- there's the first one, just starting, over on the right side now.

Non- Mothers' Day Report

This year I didn't even have to tell the kids they should ignore Mothers' Day.  I resent the idea that people must hop to just because Hallmark wants them to get sentimental (AT&T doesn't care any more), and I figure the family knows that by now.  They also know I don't want more stuff.  Just as strong as the young nest-building urge to accumulate, is today's urge to Get Rid of Stuff.
So:
* Saturday the mail brought a gift card to -- McDonald's!  Who knew McDonald's had gift cards?  In case you're curious -- here's what mine looks like.
* Sunday it just so happened that everybody phoned or skyped, and I'm pleased to report no one even mentioned Mothers' Day!

* Monday the florist was at the door.  Our local Lilac Festival is in full swing, but the lilacs aren't really open yet, so these were particularly welcome.

Note -- no gifts on M__ D__!  
And all satisfactorially evanescent. 
I do have a fine family.

Squirrel-Proof and Other Myths

Back in the days when that willow was healthy.

Seems as if there was some line in an old movie about feeding nuts to the squirrels, or maybe it was squirrels to the nuts.  I was never in favor of the idea.  Woodpeckers, of course -- they're such fun it's worth the expense and trouble to attract them with peanuts. 

Now it's all but dead.

For years I have relied on this squirrel-proof feeder, paying $5 a pound for nuts at the Bird Store -- till Norm pointed out that the same unsalted ones sell in the supermarket for $4.  

So who woulda thunk it, after all this time?  I just came out and sat down at the desk to find a furry bandit munching away in there.  This is not all that good a picture, because as I reached for the camera it bolted -- we were, when you come right down to it, only about four feet apart.  It had no trouble zipping right out.

I am reminded of a really fancy expensive squirrel-proof feeder Norm invested in some years ago.  It had a motor that required detaching for re-charging -- that was all his department and I never paid attention to the details -- but when a squirrel approached the perches, it whirled the animal off, affording great hilarity for the watchers. 
Except that we had one squirrel who learned how to out-wit it, hanging upside-down by his hind legs and pulling out seed without touching the perches.  The thing was so expensive (I see they're asking $159 for it today) that I called the Bird Store, which suggested I complain direct to the Droll Yankees factory. When I reached the main office of Droll Yankees, I told the woman on the other end I'd like to send her a video of our squirrel out-witting their motor.  And she said -- in a "you fool!" tone --
"Well, of course you're supposed to hang it where the squirrels can't reach."