FIVE SECOND STORIES

Another variant of peanut fetching. I have commented previously on Mr. Titmouse's technique and lately I've been watching Big Blue. He likes to perch on a bare limb 12 feet or so above the ground then hops off and drops until deploying his wings at the last moment to break his fall. These days, the Titmice are challenging the Jays and the squirrels for access to peanuts. Everyone is sharp-eyed in picking out their treats amidst the yellow birch leaves.

Mr. Titmouse and peanuts

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He went out to fetch the feeder as it was getting late in the day. The sun was going down with temps already in the 40's. A nuthatch having a snack gave him no mind as he approached. "I'm sorry, but it is time for us to close up" he said to the bird who continued eating until he was about a foot away. He stood there until the bird (upside down, he's a nuthatch!) glanced upward and flew off.

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The Summer's final tomatoes after ripening on the kitchen window ledge were at first astringent in the sauce for the homemade mushroom ravioli. They were insulted by this and in their high pitched voices they screamed "What did you expect? We're tomatoes, we're red, we're loud and we're outrageous!" But, patience won out after they simmered a while in a luxurious rosemary garlic flavored cream, mellowing into a magnificent and savory sauce.

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I remember figuring out when I was young how long it would take to get the odor of gasoline out of my fingers. Even at that age, I wondered about its toxicity. I asked my Dad one evening as he was watering the roses. "Oh yeah" he answered. "You don't want to take a bath in it" he said with a grin. This from a man who made his living as a spotter for a dry cleaner who worked bare-handed with chemicals all day for years. I've always been amazed he never got cancer.

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The couple realized that their vacation to swim with the dolphins in Bimini had taken an unexpected turn. The new group of attendees were summoned at the end of the first day to meet in a large conference room. It was filled with cushions and they were asked to sit on them in a semi-circle. At the open end, emerged the female leader of the hosts, dressed in a full-length white robe, backlit by the windows and the setting sun. She opened with some sort of greeting/prayer/chant and invited everyone seated to talk about why they were in Bimini. It quickly turned into a Oprahesque group therapy session. "This is a vacation?" the couple thought. She just wanted to get into the warm Caribbean water and hang out with the critters. He wanted to chill on a beach and bar and be away from the BS of work. They had no idea what they had gotten themselves into.

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I'm amending the soil in my raised beds by adding mower chopped grass and leaves. In the past, I had tried planting a winter cover crop but the tender shoots were torn up by the frantic digging by the squirrels. This year, I thought I would put those busy critters to work. I somewhat dug in the layer of amendments and leave it to my pals to continue digging it into the soil to their heart's desire. 

Madame was quite pleased. Sounding shockingly like Mrs. Thatcher -"Put those tree rodent parasites to work!" she intoned. "They've taken plenty of our handouts over the years!" Who knew Madame was such a Tory? And she's French, a expat Parisian at that!

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A memorable quote from my favorite storm chaser, Texan Pecos Hank: "I was boxed in like a turtle's pecker."

Hank has continued problems with wacky AI captioning on his videos. During one of his chases in nasty, multi-state outbreak in the Deep South, he informs the viewer that the tornado he was tracking "...had grown to an F-4 2.25 miles wide burrito, the 3rd widest burrito ever documented!"

 

JK

He found it distracting talking to a young clerk at the market whose half-moon crescent piercing his septum waggled as he talked.

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All Summer they were visited by a young black cat who thankfully was skittish whenever they appeared. It was troublesome for they worried about their 19 year old Madame who didn't need the aggravation of another cat trying to horn in on her territory. It still stops by, noticeably grown but fortunately not aggressive. A week ago, a new one appeared by the giving stone. Again, a young cat, orange with a ring-tail. They wondered if there was some sort of feline hobo sign somewhere on their property: