Morning seranade

If you are a faithful reader of my ramblings - either one of you - you know that I love to sit out on the patio of a morning, drink my cup of Community brand Cafe Special coffee and survey my kingdom (aka my back yard). I have surveyed more striking kingdoms, but this one works just fine for me. Of course, here of late it has been hard to be comfortable while engaging in this practice. Some hot, sticky mornings it's just not worth it.

But on those occasions when I can stick around for a while I am rewarded with a morning serenade from a very vocal mockingbird. I recognize very few bird songs; the angry chatter of the jays, the liquid warbling of the red birds, the little tweets of the finches about sums it up. I could use an app that does for bird songs what "Shazam" or "Listen" does for song songs. But the mockingbird cannot be mistaken. It is loud,  has an astounding repertoire, and  loves to sing. Oh, how it loves to sing!

There are other mockingbirds in nearby trees that add to the melody, often by repeating exactly what my bird sings. At first you think it is an echo, it is so true and faithful, but you soon realize it is another bird or two. Perhaps they are mocking the first. Do you think?

I would not make a good bird-watcher - those dedicated individuals with binoculars and life-lists. I can't spot them in the trees. I look and look, but I just can't do it. That's one reason for the feeders. If they are sitting two feet from my window I can spot them. Up in the tree? Perfect camouflage, as far as I'm concerned.

The Northern Mockingbird, Mimus polyglottos, is of course, the state bird of Texas. And of Arkansas. And Florida, Mississippi, and Tennessee. It lives year-round in this part of the country and we know that it aggressively defends it's territory and does not hesitate to harass cats and people that it thinks are intruding, especially if it is nesting. It is well known for its copy-cat bird song and the male of the species often has more than 200 distinct songs in its repertoire. All this from a bird that seldom measures more than 8 inches beak to tail feather.

And it has a place in literature. In the namesake book To Kill a Mockingbird, two of the major characters, Atticus Finch and Miss Maudie, say that it is a sin to kill a mockingbird because "they don't do one thing for us but make music for us to enjoy. They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us."

And in lullabies:

Hush little baby, don't say a word,

Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

And if that mockingbird don't sing,

Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

Probably a safe promise.

The owl is back!

Monday afternoon we kept hearing a bunch of Blue Jays raising cane in the back yard. When I finally paid attention and looked out, there were 4 or 5 Jays clustered in the pecan tree out back just squawking!  At first I was amazed at the number of Jays - we have a mating pair in the area and we see a Jay from time to time, but here was a flock of Jays and they all had issues!

From time to time an adventurous Jay would swoop down to the opening of the owl house and hurl an invective or two, then fly back to a branch so it dawned on me that there was something in there that the Jays did not want in there! Since the owl house has been unoccupied for about a year except for brief visits by an inquisitive squirrel, I immediately thought that the Jays had trapped a nest-robbing squirrel in the owl house.

However, in the back of my mind I began thinking that maybe an owl showed up this morning (I was pretty sure it had not come earlier because there had been some really rowdy football games in the backyard over the last few days and evenings). So, when evening fell (and the Jays finally gave it up) I kept checking and sure enough, up popped an owl!

I have no way of knowing if it is the same owl that visited last January or not. They all...uh, well, they all look alike to me. Looking back at the picture from last January, this owl may be slightly larger (a year older, perhaps?).

Same owl or some other screech owl who heard about our motel and is only passing through, we are happy to see him. Her? Whatever.

Monday Meanderings

Feasted on tomatoes from the garden this past week. Well, okay, there were only 2 ripe enough to feast on. And they were small. Tiny actually. Think Yahoo marble-size. But it's early, yet!

New bird at the feeder; I had seen it before but thought it was a sparrow. Finally realized it was not and added Black-capped Chickadee to my list. Ah, yes.

Had a fund-raising dinner at the church for upcoming youth trips to the Communidad de Ninos in Peru. They served "Peruvian Pile-on." We told them gringos would never eat lettuce or tomatoes in Peru. But we weren't in Peru, were we?

We watched much of the Women's Softball World Series last week and into this (getting ourselves in shape for the UT men when they get to the College World Series in Omaha). Softball is a fun game to watch; slower paced, lot's of exciting plays - or errors. The only problem is the constant - and I do mean constant - cheering from the players themselves and their young fans. Mom pointed out an article in the paper about a local high school team that had set three goals for themselves this year: batting .325 as a team, making no more than 7 errors throughout district play and "yelling cheesy cheers." Hmmm. So it's intentional. Reminds me of a girl's soccer team I was once familiar with.

Haven't seen the little Vietnamese protester woman for a week or so. Either her demands were met or, most likely, she grew weary of the vigil. This was a protest that could have used a translator.

I may have to start calling this feature "Monday Memory Lapse." I think of things during the week that need to go in here, but unless I write them down right then I can't recall them. For instance, at breakfast the other day we mentioned two things to go in MMs, but here it is 1 1/2 hours later and I can't think of either of them. Fortunately, what's-her-name wrote them down.

From the Overheard Conversation Department: "Hello, Judy? This is Emily. Ya'll do acupuncture don't you? Great! I really need to get my dog in; can I come today? Oh, really? No, she can't wait that long. Thanks."

Monday Meanderings

Rethinking Mexican Food. Not to worry - Chuy's is still numero uno - but we were in the neighborhood the other day and stopped at Pappasita's for lunch. We've been to Pappasita's before, but it has been a long time; it's simply not located on our normal foraging routes. We really enjoyed it - stuffed ourselves silly with just lunch entrees. For sure a dinner would require one or two take-home boxes. More of a Mexican food menu rather than Tex-Mex.

The really memorable part of the lunch was when the waitress set Mom's lunch on fire. Mom ordered Queso Fundido, which is Spanish for "Your cheese is on fire." So was the serving tray but the fellow at the next table sacrificed his napkin to save us.

They are promoting a Plato de Padre plate for Father's Day. It's supposed to be dinner for two, but the waitress said "Bring friends." Sounds like a Birthday/Father's Day plan to me, but I'm sitting by the fire extinguisher, just in case.

On the subject of food, we discovered yesterday that Marie Callender's serves a pepper-crusted Tri-Tip. Appropriate for a California-based restaurant chain, don't you think? It was excellent, by the way.

Mom dropped me off at Wal-Mart the other day so I could run in and get something. Meanwhile she would wait in the car till I came out. Normally, we call each other on the cell phone when we come out - saves circling the parking lot. So I'm outside, trying to find Mom's cell number in the bright sunlight, fumbling with the phone when I hear "Ahem" from Mom - sitting in the car right in front of me. I was busy, okay?

Finch season must be about over in this area - very few finches feeding (say that three times fast) these days. I did see a new bird the other day - thought it was a mockingbird until I noticed a very long curved bill. I learned it was a Curved-Billed Thresher.

Overheard conversation about an overheard conversation: "We were on the observation deck of the Washington Monument and heard this guy say, 'That octagonal building over there is the Pentagon.'"

And I leave you with a link to a hilarious audio track. It will self start when you click on it.

Monday Meanderings

If you really want to scare your co-workers, try a special 10-minute coughing spell - the kind where you turn blue in the face and gasp for air as you try not to pass out. They don't come near your desk for the rest of the day. My mother used to call this "coughing your toe-nails up." Yes, it's that gross.

A few weeks back I posted about finding valuable repair tips on the Internet and my Sis mentioned a site called www.fixya.com. I tried it when the touch screen on Mom's Palm quit responding. I found a fix - it worked great and now every one is happy but Mom; she was thinking "iTouch, come to Momma!" I did have a part left over, though, so maybe all is not lost.

Stopped in at Whataburger the other evening and saw a local manifestation of "Swinehysteria." A timer went off behind the counter and the manager yelled, "Wash up! Everybody wash their hands!" And the entire crew stopped and went to the hand washing station. Then the manager set the timer for another 15 minutes and they all went back to work. In a 10-hour shift you get to wash your hands 40 times. Not that I think that's a bad idea for a food handler, anyway. Especially when it is my food they are handling.

Addendum to the Palm repair story. I found out what the spare part was; it's a little clip that keeps the stylus from flying across the room when you move the Palm. Mom discovered this stylus trick and pointed out that the device was not exactly all fixed. Unfortunately for her, I'm now an expert at opening the Palm and making repairs.

We still don't know what the protest vigil is all about. We stopped and Mom went to see what the woman's sign said, but talented as she is, Mom doesn't read - or speak - Vietnamese.

I leave you with a treat - a new bird at our feeder:


This is a male Indigo Bunting in full breeding plumage - just like the one at the feeder the other afternoon. For a bird supposedly as common and widespread as the book says these are, I marvel that I had never seen one before.

Mystery solved

It's a Carolina Chickadee (poecile carolinensis). Finally got a good look at it the other day.

• Small, short-billed bird.
• Black cap.
• Black bib.
• White cheeks.
• Back unstreaked gray.
• Underparts whitish.

Yep. That's the new visitor. And for the record, I did not Google "White cheeks." Or "Underparts."

Monday Meanderings

SHE says I have to call it Meanderings, he said randomly.

Politics aside, you have to take your hat off to a President that can quickly and knowledgeably fill in a Final Four bracket. On national TV. And warn UNC not to make him look bad. No pressure, Tarheels.

And on that subject, can you imagine the logistics involved for CBS to broadcast the tournament? Every game is broadcast. According to Brad Schulz it takes a crew of about 50 people to handle a network basketball game and about 72 hours of pre-production, broadcast and post-production time for that crew. And even though we may only see those games interesting to our region, every game in the tournament is on the air somewhere.

The bluebonnets are out. Mom saw a few week before last, then there were a number of patches last Sunday morning. Now they are well and truly out, though they won't be outstanding this year, they tell us. Too little rain.

It's South by Southwest time in Austin. What started as a music thing now starts with a week of "Interactive" sessions - having mainly to do with the Internet and Blogging and stuff. This week is the Film Festival - or was that the week before last? I do know that this past week has been music - more than 1800 bands in town looking to get discovered. Some 590 bands are from out of the country; this is a really big deal. However, if you don't go any further south than Central Market you can avoid the chaos.

We may have a clue as to why we haven't seen the owl in a while - too noisy! I heard a sharp "rat-a-tat-tat" the other morning and looked up to see a gorgeous red-headed woodpecker jack-hammering away on the front of the owl house! Had the owl been there that would have been a rude awakening.

And I have noticed a new kind of bird at the feeder. It's about the size of a house sparrow, with a white throat and breast, but a black "vee" on its head. I've Googled every bird image I can call up but I can't name it yet. I'm leaning toward the Black Capped Vireo, but I have only seen the bird fleetingly on two occasions. I'll keep watching.

And did you know that you have to be rather cautious when you Google any search string that contain the words "white breast"? "Really, dear - I was looking for this bird...."

Sign on the local Putt-Putt golf course: "Closed for re-pars"

Monday Randomness

We have been hip deep in eyeglasses this weekend. After our Peru trip, we volunteered to sort through all the frames, lenses, reading glasses, sunglasses and what-not that make up the components needed for an eyeglass clinic. Everything needed to be sorted out (since the couple that was in charge in Peru said, "Just dump them in any old way - we'll sort them out when we get back) counted (1,487 pairs of reading glasses, 778 individual lenses) and inventoried (so they know what to restock). I don't know what we set out with - we checked the vision of 1,151 people, but didn't dispense that many glasses. Still, we ran out of some strengths of lenses and nearly every adult frame. Thank goodness Peruvians are small people; we dispensed a lot of adults with child frames the last day.

We've had 8 big duffel bags of glasses in the front bedroom for several weeks (and there may be one outstanding duffel - Malena is checking) and decided that this weekend with all the basketball playoffs was the ideal time to sort them.

Had to move the bird feeders. I mentioned how much feed the Finches go through. Thy eat Thistle seed - tiny little black seeds - but they crack the shell for an even tinier edible portion and spit the hulls on the ground. Soon there is a mound of Thistle hulls on the patio, and then the wind distributes it around and then we are tracking in Thistle hulls that get in everything. So, the feeders are now on the back of the house, in front of the bonus room window. Now if we want to watch the birds, we can do it from the treadmill - incentive for walking. You do have to turn out the lights so they can't see you as well. It's hard to be still to observe while walking.

Filed my taxes this weekend. I fretted over them for several weeks, worrying if had remembered everything and if I had it right this time. Mom finally said, "You are going to have to let it go at some point." So I did. Actually get something back this time. Unless I made another mistake.

Decided we could survive the downturn in the economy. If we only had the money that was spent on tattoos by all the basketball players we saw this weekend. Wow.

And speaking of basketball. UT men are in as a seventh seed - better than we expected. Women will probably get a similar seed. We're down to one game left this weekend; Stanford and USC women are playing tonight, then we are cut off until Thursday. Guess I'll have to go to the library and stock up fot the next several days.

We've got (had?) an owl!

This is a picture of Howland, our latest visitor to our Avery.

Howland is a gray Eastern Screech Owl (Megascops asio) and he has taken up residence in our Owl House (or maybe not; more about that later).

I knew the housing market was bad, but we've had a "For Rent" sign on that house for more than a year and a half. We had pretty much given up hope that we would ever have a resident in our little house - then the other day I looked out and there was an owl!

I say he - Howland may be a Howletta. It's hard to tell unless you can see one of each side by side (lady owls are larger). He or she sleeps all day down in the cozy confines of the house and comes out of an evening and perches in the opening to survey his kingdom until it gets dark, and then it's off to rid the world of rodents and other critters (like unsuspecting Finches, we suspect).

He's very camera shy (more support for the lady owl theory?) and won't let us get terribly close to take a picture, though he was OK with Luke and Grace standing at the base of the tree, looking up at him. Once we step off the patio, however, he ducks down in his nest.

The good news is that we don't have to buy feed for the owl - unlike the Finches, who can devour a sock of seed in 2 days. The bad news is that we haven't seen Howland in a few days. Did he find a nicer apartment? Was he just passing through? Has he already moved to a cool branch now that the cold days are past and it is unseasonably warm here in Austin?

I guess only time will tell. Oh, and extra points if you can tell me who the original Howland was - without Googling it.

A few follow ups...

I mentioned here how delighted we were to have Finches at our feeder. Who knew the little buggers ate multiple times their weight daily? We've refilled the sock twice and swept a big pile of thistle seed hulls off the patio. If they keep inviting their friends (I've seen as many as six clinging to the feeder) we may have to raise the price of lunch!

And in the same Finch article I mentioned the Albert the Adequate church. Noticed a blurb in the paper that Sunday they "staged a medieval Boar's Head Pageant, which is a traditional English performance marking the end of the Christmas season and the Epiphany." They even had a dude dressed up like the knight guarding the chalice in "Indiana Jones and the Quest for the Holy Grail" who "guided people into the church."

And we thought a Christmas Eve candlelight service was edgy.

Oh, the teen-aged director that kept texting instead of keeping up with me? Won't be back. It seems that after he completed his 4oth hour of volunteer service he whipped out his letter from the judge and asked the studio director to sign off on his volunteer hours. The director says that happens fairly often; they used to have people assigned from the courts but the School for the Blind (on whose property the RFB&D studio sits) put a stop to that. Now they just get "stealth" volunteers.

And here I talked about the "community" of children in Peru. This past week two of our Shepherds were in Peru visiting with Miguel and touring the community compound, seeking ways to establish regular and on-going support from Westover! Now that's good news!

We got Finches!

I mentioned some time back that on a whim we put out a sock-type feeder that's supposed to attract Finches. Like the Owl House, this turned out to be a well-intentioned but fruitless exercise. No Finches came to our feeder. My sister mentioned that she sees Finches in the Spring, so we sat back to patiently wait.

Right after Christmas, I looked up and there were four brightly-colored Finches feeding away! I immediately set out to get a photo of these colorful little birds, but Finches are very camera shy. I tried sitting motionless on the patio for what seemed like hours (okay, very long minutes), but they wouldn't come while I was there. I tried opening the patio door a little and lurking there in the opening, but they weren't buying that either. Mom can stand in the room and fill the frame with her zoom lens, but that's a film camera, and I wasn't interested in blowing an entire roll of film on four little birds, so the battle continues. In the mean time, here's a nice photo from the Internet of somebody else's Finches.


Then I became interested in just what type of Finches these were. After eliminating Goldfinches (ours are more chartreuse) and House Finches (ours are more colorful), I decided they were Lesser Finches. Hmmm. Some neighborhood; we don't get Greater Finches, or even Plain Finches; we get Lesser Finches. Sort of like this church we go by that I have dubbed as being named after "Albert the Adequate." Maybe we should get the City to outlaw Lesser Finches, sort of like Farmer's Branch did illegal aliens. That should work.

Meantime, I'm off to stalk the elusive Finch. Wish me luck.

Free to a good family – of owls

We now have an owl house. It’s high up on the trunk of the “Bramblett” pecan tree in the back yard, waiting for an occupant. Or better yet, occupants. We first leaned about owl houses, or owl shacks from a newspaper article several months ago. A local ornithologist named Cliff Shackelford made a number of owl houses as gifts a couple of Christmases ago and the idea resonated with so many people that he now has a busy sideline making and selling owl houses. You can read all about it here. It’s an interesting web site even if you aren’t interested in putting up an owl house.

We were intrigued by the idea, thinking that it might add pleasure to those rare opportunities when we can comfortably sit on the back patio and drink coffee. Or just sit. We already feed most of the birds in North America out there, based on the seed hulls that cover the patio, and we’re going to add some hummingbird feeders at the back by Barbara’s office window. Plus, since owls like to eat snakes, maybe that is the solution for our Coral snake. Yes, “red and yellow kill a fellow.” Hmmm. I may have just effectively ended all visits by our grandchildren. Let me assure you, he is a very bashful snake. I read where some herpetologists never see a Coral snake in the wild in their entire careers. But that’s another blog topic.

Even though Mr. Shackelford lives in Austin, he lives way south in Austin – beyond Bubba land – and the shipping charges by mail were rather much, so we didn’t acquire an owl house until I noticed that you could buy them in the City of Austin store at City Hall. And that definitely is another blog topic. So house at hand, we trimmed some low branches to improve the fly-way for any home-seeking owl and nailed it up in the tree like this.

Mr. Shackelford claims that “Owls want to live in your back yard.” We shall see.