Posted tagged ‘bird feeders’
January 21, 2014
Snow is coming. It will start this afternoon and go all night. The sky already has the look of snow about it. It is quite cold and will get colder. Yesterday I filled the bird feeders. Today I have a few things to pick up, and I assume I’ll be jockeying with the bread and milk crowd for a parking space. It always astounds me that everyone is out of bread and milk just before the snow falls. It must be a cultural phenomenon.
The weather men are hedging their forecasts. One station predicts between 8 and 10 inches while the other says between 8 and 12. The only thing they agree on is the Cape will get more snow than the rest of the state. Oh joy!
I remember when I was a kid hoping for a snow day. I’d watch the snow fall looking through the picture window in the living room. A street light was just at the bottom of the front lawn, and I’d watch the snow fall in the light. It was always so pretty glinting as it fell. In those days, the TV didn’t scroll the closed schools, but the fire station in town blew the signal early in the morning. When I was older, in high school in a different town, I had to listen to the radio to find out if my school was closed. It never mattered how old I was, a day off from school was cause for celebration. It was like an unexpected present.
My dad never let a snow storm slow him down. He always went to work. He’d get up early and shovel to the car then clear it to get it on the road. In the old days he had chains on his tires then when they went out of style, he had snow tires put on his car at the start of every winter. The other tires were stored in the cellar waiting for better weather. We lived on a hill, and it was tough going up and down. About in the middle the hill rose a bit, and that’s where cars would slide going up. Sometimes going down was so slippery cars would take the side road and avoid the hill altogether. For us kids, a no school day meant a day sledding on the hill. I can still remember the excitement of holding the sled, running, jumping on and speeding down that hill. We had the joy of flying.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird feeders, bread and milk crowd, chains, cold, fire station signal, Sledding, Snow, snow day, snow sky, snow tires
Comments: 12 Comments
January 2, 2014
Gracie and I were intrepid travelers, and we just got back from facing the elements head-on. The main roads are clear just from traffic, but the side roads, including mine, are snow-covered. I slid a bit going around the corner, but I expected I might and was going very slowly just in case. First I got cat food, litter and dog treats. Next I provisioned for me. I bought a pizza made by my favorite place but not yet cooked, a couple of very small meatloaves, cheddar and jalapeño dip, a quesadilla needing to be re-heated, cream for my coffee and dark chocolate nonpareils for my soul. Being in storm mode means treating myself to good food. I have a book I haven’t finished and one waiting to be started. The house is warm.
This morning I noticed the feeders were half empty. I figured there might be enough, but then I thought not through tomorrow so out I went to the deck and filled four feeders: two sunflower and two thistle. I didn’t want my birds to be hungry.
The snow is more intense now than it was earlier when the flakes were small. Schools are all closed and many have already announced they’d be closed tomorrow because the storm is supposed to last all night into tomorrow afternoon. It is the height of high tide now so the waves are huge and rough. They hit the sea walls with such force the tops of the waves flow over the walls. The news said the storm will last so long they’d be three high tides. We are expected to get between 8-12 inches leaning toward the higher amount. One weather man described the nighttime part of the storm as coming down like gangbusters. I liked that description though I’m not liking the snow.
I expect to be snowed-in until Friday. It makes no sense to plow before the storm ends. Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy the day and keep an eye on the snow. It is pretty.
Categories: Musings
Tags: 8-12 inches, all night strom, bird feeders, comfort foods, high tides, no school, Pizza, shopping in the snow, slippery roads, snow storm
Comments: 18 Comments
September 21, 2013
Gracie was on the deck and barking so I went out to check to see which critter was within sight. I didn’t see any, but I did see a water spray near the top of the driveway. A bird was having the most wonderful bath in a puddle from my irrigation system. The drops of water were flying in the air as the bird flapped its wings. That bird was having a great time and so was I while watching it.
The morning is a beauty. It is quintessential autumn on Cape Cod. The sun is bright and the day is warm. Fall flowers are in bloom, and my garden is filled with mums, anemones and my favorite of all, autumn clematis. In autumn, I always think Mother Nature gives us her best and final show before winter’s turn in the year.
I need bird seed: sunflower and thistle. Lately, with so many birds, the big feeder empties quickly. I think word of beak must be the reason. Yesterday, after I had filled the feeders with the last of the seeds, a chickadee flew so close by me I swear its wing touched my cheek. I love to stand by the deck rail and watch the birds eat. They are barely an arm’s length away as the feeders hang off the deck. The chickadees are the most fearless. The seeds are what they want, and my being there doesn’t give them pause. The thistle feeder spins each time a goldfinch or chickadee lands on it. The birds just hold on and go with the spin.
I know I won’t be able to stop myself from roaming the flower aisles when I go to buy the bird seed. Perennials are on sale as are the fall flowers. I just happen to have a few spaces in the small round garden where a tree used to stand and some spots in the back of the big front garden. I also want to harvest the rest of my herbs. The rosemary is ready to hang in the house, and its aroma will spread about the kitchen to remind me summer will be back. I just have to be patient.
Categories: Musings
Tags: beautiful morning, bird feeders, bird taking a bath, colors, fall flowers, garden spot, harvesting herbs, herbs, Mother Nature's gift, perrenials, rosemary, sunflower and thistle seed
Comments: 12 Comments
August 29, 2013
Today is dark, damp and chilly, but I don’t mind. My dance card is empty so I’ll probably just stay around the house and read. Last night I started a book called The Altar of Bones. It will keep me occupied.
I feel witless today. Nothing of import rambles in my brain. I looked out the window over the sink for a long while waiting for the coffee to brew. The male gold finches are at their most beautiful. Their feathers are deep yellow and striking in the darkness of the day. I noticed the red chests of the house finches. Even slight colors pop on a day like today.
For the longest time, probably well over twenty years, the walls of my house were white. Color came from whatever I used to decorate. One year, though, when it was time to repaint, I decided to go with color. I didn’t just choose pale or pastel colors. Nope, I went put on your sunglasses bright. The living room is lipstick, a deep red. I chose grey as its companion color. The bathroom went pink, bright in your face pink. Nutmeg was my choice for the dining room, and it is my favorite of all the colors. The kitchen is green but an odd color green difficult to describe. The hall is blue, a light blue. Upstairs the hall is grey because the walls leading to it are red. The open linen closet is red, sort of the living room in reverse. My room is a bright yellow; the guest room is deep blue and the bathroom was lilac. I say was because that bathroom is now blue-green to match the new shower curtain, but I liked the lilac so much I used it downstairs in the once pink bathroom. I like the lilac better.
All this talk of color has reminded me of my Crayola crayons, the box I always got for going back to school. There were 48 colors back then. No other kind of crayons would do. They would be an embarrassment, just pale imitations of Crayola crayons. I remember opening the box and getting my first whiff of those crayons. It was a special smell that only came from a box of crayons. I’d look at those perfect crayon tips lined up in the box then I’d pick the crayons up one at a time to see the name of the color. I learned burnt Sienna is a sort of brown and periwinkle is a kind of blue. It wasn’t just a red crayon in that box. It was brick red or violet red. Yellow was lemon yellow, as bright as the fruit. There were new words for me to learn like magenta, thistle and maize. The colors were the hints.
I have a commemorative tin of Crayola Crayons. It contains all 48 colors that were in my box some of which have since been discontinued. The tin isn’t valuable in money, but when I open it, I smell the crayons and see those tips lined up in a row, and I am seven again. That tin is invaluable to me!
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird feeders, blues and green, brick red, chilly, cloudy, Crayola crayons, damp, gold finches, house finches, lipstick red, magenta, maize, paint colors, Prussian blue, the whiff of crayons, yellow
Comments: 20 Comments
August 16, 2013
My feet are cold. I was outside reading the papers, and it felt chilly. The table is in the shade and the sun is still working its way around the house so the backyard has a bit of the night chill about it. While I was outside, I filled the seed and the suet feeders. Later, I’ll have to clean and refill the bird bath. Chickadees use it all the time to drink from while robins love a good bath.
Around six last night, my friend and I were on the deck enjoying a drink with some cheese and crackers. I noticed movement at a house across the street on the corner and kept trying to be attentive to my friend but also trying to keep an eye on the happening across the street. I thought I saw heads and spindly legs. I did. I was watching wild turkeys make their way down the street. I told my friend to turn around and take a look. She said she was wondering what had drawn my attention. Two of the turkeys were enormous, as big as I’ve ever seen. All of them, the toms and their hens, took their time wandering on another neighbor’s lawn and a few hens stopped to eat something. They then casually crossed the street to the yard next to mine. Gracie watched their progress from the deck. She didn’t bark but seemed as intrigued as we were. It has been a while since I’ve seen the turkeys on my street. It was fun to have them back.
My first plane flight was when I was a freshman in college. My parents gave me a ticket from Hyannis to Boston as an Easter gift. I was thrilled. The route was beautiful: over the water and the shore. The plane was old and perfect for my first flight. I had always wished I could have ridden in a PanAm Clipper during its heyday, and this plane reminded me a little of that. It was a prop and you had to walk uphill to your seats. The pilots were behind a curtain which didn’t shut all the way, and you could watch them at the controls. It was like going back in time.
That plane ride is my favorite of all, but I have a few others on the list. The flight from Argentina to Uruguay, a quick jump cross the water, had a raffle for a woman’s handbag. I didn’t win. A Ghana Airways flight from Tamale to Accra circled so many times I think the pilot was lost. It is the only plane on which I have ever felt air sick. It was all that circling. The flight to Cusco was the most dramatic. We were close enough to the mountains that we could see the shadow of the plane. On my first ever flight to Ghana, in 1969, I remember when we flew over the Sahara. It was like my geography book had come to life. I saw the rolling brown sand with what looked liked ridges, and it was a thrill I’ve never forgotten.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird feeders, chickadees, chilly morning, Cusco, favorite flights, first plane ride, flying over the Sahara, long necks and spindly legs, PanAm Clipper, sleeping on a plane, toms and hens, wild turkeys
Comments: 18 Comments
August 8, 2013
Unlike the past few days, the weather this morning is humid and cloudy with intermittent rain, a soft rain you barely notice, but the paper does say a chance of thunder showers throughout the day and has predicted them for tonight and tomorrow, but right now the sun is working its way from behind the clouds seems to be struggling, maybe even losing the battle for today’s weather. The breeze is a bit stronger, always a bad sign on a cloudy, damp day.
Yesterday I earned a blue ribbon. I did my laundry, finally, all two loads, watered the inside and outside plants, paid all my bills, did four errands, filled the bird feeders and took all the stuff off the walls in the bathroom which is right now being painted and then around 6:30 met my friend for dinner. Today I have one stop, to buy more flowers for the front garden and some bird seed, then I’m going Peapod on-line grocery shopping. I think I have been the ant, not the grasshopper, for the last two days and deserve a few days of rest which I will gladly take.
We never needed back to school clothes except for a new pair of shoes and one outfit, for the first day, as after that we wore uniforms. My mother was glad for those uniforms as they saved her so much money. Outfitting four kids was expensive. We didn’t care about wearing them because that’s all we knew and all our friends wore them too. Even in high school I had a uniform; all Catholic high school students wore one sort of uniform or another.
My students in Ghana had three different uniforms. Most bought the cloth and had the dresses made. The classroom uniforms were lilac and all the students wore same style and color, regardless of which level they were. I remember watching students iron the uniforms using a charcoal iron. The uniforms were always stiff with starch and wrinkled easily. The students also had their afternoon chore dresses, and there were four different patterns, each one designating the graduation year of the student. The dresses were simple: one piece. Their Sunday bests, wore for church service and into town, were traditional, generally three pieces, and were also four different patterns. You could identify whether the student was T1, T2, T3 or T4 just by the pattern. The patterns followed the students from one year to the next so they only had to buy whatever they had grown out of or worn out. The incoming T1’s would have their own patterns.
I thought of my students when I saw Harry Potter and his friends go into town for the day, for the one day they were allowed off grounds. For my students it was Sunday. They could have visitors come or the older students could go into town to do some shopping, and usually a photographer or two came to the school and took pictures of students into their spiffiest clothes. I have a few of those pictures which were given to me as gifts so I wouldn’t forget my students. They did the same thing at the ceremony last summer. They had a photographer come and take pictures of the event and individual pictures of me with one of them, and they ordered copies. This time it was so they wouldn’t forget me.
Categories: Musings
Tags: back-to-school clothes, bird feeders, Bolgatanga Women's Teacher Training College, errands, Ghana, humidity, Laundry, rain, school uniforms, sun, working
Comments: 12 Comments
July 16, 2013
Enough! Enough I say! It is the heat and it is the humidity. The low this week will be 85˚. Early last night I was on the deck watering plants, and even then it was still uncomfortable. Today I have to fill the feeders, but I’ll wait until the sun goes down a bit before I venture. I have a couple of errands, necessities, or I would stay comfortable in my air-conditioned house. Just before it gets dark, I’ll take my outside shower, one of my favorite parts of the day. I’ll bring my phone just in case I get locked in again.
I haven’t had any adventures in a long time. Sitting around the house makes for boring days. I miss our rides. I’m sure Miss Gracie does as well, but she loves the cool house. I let her out, she goes into the yard, squats then runs right back inside the house. She sprawls on the couch. Hers is a wonderful dog’s life.
Grace, my student, called me the other day. She’s in Bolga, and the rain that day was so tremendous she couldn’t go outside. I could picture exactly what she was talking about: thunder and lightning and rain so heavy you get drenched in a minute. I used to stand on the porch to watch it rain. The storms never stopped amazing me with their ferocity. My mother would have said it was a deluge. She would have been right.
I never buy clothes any more. The last time I did was two years ago when I went back to Ghana. I needed a couple of pairs of decent pants and a few short sleeve shirts. I didn’t bring all that much as I knew I could get my laundry done. I even came home with all clean outside clothes. Lately, though, I have been on a bit of a spending spree. After having tolerated my third back surgery, I figured I rated a few gifts. The first thing I bought was a shower curtain, a vastly expensive shower curtain made in Ghana and sown with squares of different Ghanaian cloths, some of which I recognize. I sent Grace a picture, and she has found some of the same cloth so I can have a matching curtain made for the bathroom; of course, the bathroom will have to be painted and I’ll need all new towels and a bath mat. Everything is connected. Next I bought a spread for my bed. It was on sale, and it was cheap compared to its original price. The spread was made in India, is composed of multi-colored squares and has hand stitched decorations; of course, I needed new curtains and two throw rugs, but the room doesn’t need painting. I found and ordered curtains from an Indian shop, and they were on sale. I felt thrifty! I still haven’t found rugs, but the hunt is the best part.
I’m done now with my gift giving, but I do go through catalogs with an open mind. I’d hate to miss a good find!
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird feeders, catalogs, clothes shopping, Ghanaian cloth, heat and humidity, Indian spread, new curtains, new shower curtain, outside shower
Comments: 12 Comments
June 9, 2013
If I were asked to create a morning, it would be today’s. The sun is bright and sharp. The green of the leaves and the colors of the flowers pop in the light. The breeze is just right.
For some strange reason, I feel energetic today so I’m going to finish the flower planting and actually do laundry. Yup, it’s still sitting in the hall, and I swear I saw a cobweb or two when I walked by the bundle this morning.
In the front garden of my house are wild rose bushes. They are so very Cape Cod that you can see them everywhere especially along the roadside. They only bloom once, and they are now in bloom. Mine needs badly to be trimmed, but we’re waiting until after the blooming. When I walked by the bush this morning, I could hear the buzz of bees so I took a wide berth. The buzzing was loud enough to hear from the driveway. I walked over to get a closer, but not too close, a look and I think there was a bee at every flower.
The summer world is so alive. I sit and watch all the different birds at the feeders. Two of the feeders, however, are empty as I still have to put out the oranges and the jelly for the Baltimore orioles. I haven’t seen any of them yet but that might be because I have nothing to tempt them. I also have hummingbird feeders needing cleaning and filling.
When I sit outside, I love having the birds zoom over my head on their way to the sunflower feeders. My being there doesn’t bother them at all. The rabbits are lively now and still taunting Gracie. They sit on the other side of the fence and stare. Gracie goes crazy barking and trying to find a way over or through the fence. The spawns in the yard are also Gracie targets, but they have scurrying up the trees for protection. Gracie stands below and stares as the spawn jumps from bush to bush. I’m betting it’s smiling, scoffing at poor Miss Gracie. Spawns are like that.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird feeders, birds, flowers, perfect day, spawns of Satan, summer world, sunny and bright, wild rose bushes
Comments: 14 Comments
May 23, 2013
I wish it would rain. The day is cloudy and a dampness has given the house a bit of a chill so I’ve lowered the downstairs windows. Yesterday I did a few chores and a couple of errands. One stop was for cat food and clay flower pots at Agway. Tomorrow I’ll shop to fill the pots and also get herbs for the herb garden and the deck window boxes. Next week I’ll buy some front garden flowers. I noticed a few empty spots.
The spawns have found a new way to harass me. The tall bird feeder holder with the anti-squirrel baffle at the bottom had to be moved. The spawns were jumping from trees to get at the top of the pole where there are holders for four feeder stations, and the spawns have enjoyed dining at each one. When Skip came last week, I had him move the pole away from all the trees. Now the spawns are flying off the deck to the feeders. The problem, though, is getting off. There is no easy way so they sort of just fall unto the fence below the pole, the fence which is protecting my vegetable garden. The spawns knock over the posts and the wire gets bent down from the force of their bodies falling from so high. It has happened three times and I have fixed the fence three times. Now I have this dream of a hunter dressed in khaki, wearing a pith helmet, also khaki, sitting on my deck steps with an elephant gun in his hand just waiting for the spawns. I think I’ll have them mounted. Meanwhile, the feeders remain empty until I can figure out a solution.
The hunter’s pith helmet got me thinking about hats. When we were little kids, we had two main hats. One was for winter, a woolen hat with ear flaps and a pretty design, and the other was an Easter hat, usually a new one each year to match our dresses. The Easter hats had ribbons in blue, yellow or spring green, but it didn’t matter to me how pretty or flowery or filled with ribbons the hats were because I never liked hats. My mother, however, insisted I wear a hat when I walked to school on blustery cold winter days, but it never helped all that much to keep me warm. My head might have been fine, but my face was always freezing cold with bright red cheeks. Mittens were more essential. The Easter hat went into the closet and was pulled out only for Sundays.
I don’t wear hats any more. In the winter I sprint from the house to the car and back again when I get home. On Easter I wear one to my friends’ house: it’s a wide brim pink hat like those models during the 50’s wore. I don’t wear it to dinner when we go out though I might one year as a lark.
Maybe in my future is me as an eccentric old lady wearing a hat every place I go, even the dentist. I think I’ll start with the old faded red band hat with the plume. I’ll drop feathers everywhere I go.
Categories: Musings
Tags: bird feeders, chores, clay pots, Clouds, Easter hat, elephant gun, hats, herbs, hunter, rain, spawns of Satan, Sunday hat, winter hat
Comments: 10 Comments
April 25, 2013
Yesterday was a stay home and do stuff day. All the chores I’ve been putting off got done. When I had finished, I wanted the feat extolled, but alas and alack, I celebrated alone.
Last night I went upstairs at ten, read until 11:30 and slept until 9. It was the sleep of the dead, a check with a mirror to see if she’s alive sort of sleep. Fern and Gracie were my companions, and they slept right in with me. They’re even back to sleep now. Only Maddie and I are awake.
The morning is cloudy. The paper said 61˚ and sunny to partly sunny for today’s weather. I’m not optimistic. Yesterday it was cloudy the whole day. I went outside and filled the feeders, including the suet feeders. Luckily it was fairly warm though damp from all the rain. Today the birds are enjoying a good breakfast. I watched while the coffee was dripping. The male goldfinches are beautiful. They hang onto the new suet feeders, and I have the best view from the kitchen window. A flicker dropped by, and my usuals are in and out. I noticed the deck needs a good cleaning. The birds are not circumspect as to where they leave their droppings. The rail is dappled.
Last week, I watched “All the President’s Men Revisited,” and I was riveted. I remember the summer when the Watergate hearings held my attention every day. I was wan and pale from staying inside watching TV. I read an article the other day which said that the memory of Watergate is fading. “For measuring distance, we in 2013 are now farther away from the events portrayed in “All the President’s Men” than the film “Bonnie and Clyde” was from the real Bonnie and Clyde.” That floored me. I remember everything. My favorite memory is when the committee first heard of the tapes. It was a wow moment for them and for me. I remember John Dean’s wife sitting behind him every day as he testified and helped unravel a presidency. The Saturday Night Massacre made Richardson and Ruckelshaus heroes to me.
I remember the Woodward book and the movie which is still one of my all time favorites. The scene at the Library Of Congress still awes me. Woodward and Bernstein are at a table going files that list all the books the White House had requested. The camera starts to rise until the men are just specks. I also love the noise of the typewriters and the phones in the Washington Post newsroom. The movie is a whodunit, and though I already knew the answer, I watched wide-eyed.
“All the President’s Men Revisited” was on Discovery and was one of the quickest two hours of television that I can remember. Toward the end of the program Ben Stein, who is shown in footage as a young staffer at Nixon’s farewell to his staff, said, “It’s really sad. I don’t think any president has been more persecuted than Nixon. I think he was a saint.” Then he broke down and cried. My first reaction was to think how ridiculous to cry over Nixon and call him a saint. We all know what he did. Later I was thinking about Stein and decided I was wrong to ridicule. Those are his memories, and he has every right to cry.
Categories: Musings
Tags: All the president's Men, bird feeders, chores, Discovery, newsrooms, Nixon, rain and clouds, The washington Post, typewriters, Woodward and Bernstein
Comments: 13 Comments
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