Unexpected delights - add water

There's snow in Amarillo, TX this weekend. Snow! Fortunately, in the DFW area the wind is merely howling to remind us that March provokes reaction. Brrr - my feet froze into blocks of ice this morning as I helped with registration for the 2009 Fort Worth Walk - the Multiple Sclerosis Society - Join the Movement. What the heck - for a worthy cause, it's worth it to brave the cold. Now, last weekend (yes, it's a flashback - see all pictures), Ray and I wandered Clark Gardens, enjoyed balmy temperatures, and I contemplated action sequences.

Stroll garden grounds. One pictures flowers, green grass, and shrubbery. Quiet. Calm. Perhaps a butterfly wafts overhead and a bee gathers nectar. An impish cherub turns away.

Actually, add water and you've got action overload. Fountains spray, water features burble, creeks babble, and a lion trickles. You want to read ahead in the story or run ahead to see what's around the next corner.

Splendor on unexpected surfaces. That's a key to a story - underlying tones and action. (And today, let's add some warmth)

Joanne

Friday Night Nibble!

Playboy.

Bunny.

At your service.

Matthew Horne and James Corden present: Horne & Corden (a sketch show)

“Fast becoming the UK's favourite young comedy double act, writers Mathew Horne and James Corden will be performing in front of a live studio audience, as well as leaving the studio to play a host of brand new characters - including a socially awkward spin on the meeting of Spiderman and Superman in everyday situations. Oh, and watch out for Xander, an old boarding-school chum who is the most hideous, foul-mouthed, but well meaning man to ever rear his head from a person's past. Unfortunately, Xander specialises in turning up at inappropriate times to remind people of embarrassing moments they'd rather forget. Not like Horne & Corden - the memories of which you will hope to retain forever.”
--- the BBC official writeup



* * *

A television studio. An empty stage. A door. A crowd left over from Top of the Pops. A sense of electric excitement that fills the air like tear gas; we realise that we are going to see something special here. Coming off the back of their mega-hit genre-busting deconstruction of post-wave feminism ‘Lesbian Vampire Killers’, Matthew Horne and James Corden are the saviours of British comedy which has stagnated in a quagmire of Stewart Lee/Ricky Gervais/Simon Pegg/Chris Morris old-boys-club nepotism. But no more. In a matter of seconds our heroes will walk through that door and dazzle millions with half an hour of pure comedy gold. I’m shaking a little bit in the knowledge that I am about to see two television De Vincis paint their Mona Lisa with paint made from comedic sketches.
There is a hiss. The crowd gasps. The door slides open and our two maestros enter. One realises straight away that these guys are professional comedians who know the first rule of live comedy – bigger is better. Deadpanning = dead AIR-ing. They go STRAIGHT for the lulz, pulling funny faces, leaping about, howling at the crowd, gurning at each other and drumming up excitement until the audience is so excited they literally can’t stay quiet. We're like children on fizzy lemonade. Eventually the applause dies down. And the show begins.


MH: Hi guys! Wow, it’s great to be here. I’m hermaphrodite straight-man scarecrow twat Matthew Horne!

The crowd goes MENTAL


JC: And I’m smug yardie manchild James Corden!

Both: And welcome to meltdown comedy turkey ‘Horne & Corden’!

More applause; one can immediately see the influence that their apparent years of work as Butlins Reps had on these two young comedians. They start off with some patter that immediately wipes all memories of Morecambe and Wise from our minds. Corden speaks to a wheelchair-bound member of the audience; one immediately begins to suspect that there’s some trickery afoot when Horne disappears. The young girl claims that she can’t afford an electric wheelchair, but being physically (and possibly mentally) disabled, she’s such a big fan of the two comedians that just coming to the show is enough to cheer her up. ‘But wait’ says Corden. ‘We’ve got a surprise for you… a new electric wheelchair!’ We cheer - but then Horne comes in with the new chair. Oh no!- he hasn’t got an electric WHEELCHAIR, he’s accidentally got an ELECTRIC CHAIR from a Texan prison!

He’s accidentally got an ELECTRIC CHAIR from a Texan prison!

He’s accidentally got an ELECTRIC CHAIR from a Texan prison!

He’s accidentally got an ELECTRIC CHAIR from a Texan prison!

(This is funny because ‘electric wheelchair’ and ‘electric chair’ are two terms that, despite being different, sound sort of similar. It’s like a visual pun. Because they sort of sound the same but really mean totally different things. The comedy comes in the mismatch between the expectations of the audience and the reality. After all, electric wheelchairs and electric chairs are like, absolutely not the same! They are different. And therein lies the comedy. This respectful and witty approach to dark subject matters like child disability and the death penalty is a promise that the show makes with us, and when we launch into the sketches we see that this promise is more than kept.)

SKETCH ONE: “The Gay Newsreader”
JC: Hello, I’m a straight newsreader in the studio! Oh no! There’s some kind of obviously-serious state-of-affairs (terrorist attack, hostage situation, etc)! Such a serious situation obviously requires an equally serious register of response. Now let’s go to our reporter out there in the field who I can only assume will be treating this situation with the reverence it deserves.

MH: Heya guys! Look at me! Being the androgynous member of the pair, I’m dressed and acting like a mincing homosexual predator stereotype from a 1950’s Christian fundamentalist propaganda leaflet!! But I’m presenting the news! How wacky! I wonder what kind of crazy antics I’ll get up to!!! Now the thing you should remember about homosexuals is that they (“we”) are all obsessed with fashion and having sex with other men.
Gunshots are heard
Oh look, a terrorist! Actually he’s quite fit you know, maybe I (being a gay man) can go and offer him my number!!! Then I can have sex with him! And we can go buy shoes! BECAUSE I’M A GAY MAN!!!!!

JC: *pulls a funny face*
MH: Well, gotta go, there’s a sale at Prada! Toodles!!!!!!!!!!
JC: Oh, you gays! What won’t you try and have sex with? (well, other than women, obviously)
End of Sketch
(Repeated week-to-week in a variety of different situations)

The joke here is that nobody would actually act like this (other than the gays). This sketch is making a satirical point, raising questions about the public acceptance of homosexuals into public roles, with the obvious implication that no, they probably shouldn’t be. Because they’ll be too interested in singing karaoke and talking about Jean Paul Gautier to do a proper job.
The sketches have started off well and don’t you worry – the quality never wavers.

SKETCH TWO: “Olympic Games"
Horne and Corden are taking part in an Olympic sport
MH: Being skinny and lithe, I’m quite good at this Olympic Sport!
JC: On the other hand, being big and fat, I tend to not be very good at this Olympic Sport!
End of Sketch
(Repeated week-to-week in a variety of different situations)

This sketch revolves around a common theme that runs throughout the series – the fact that Matthew Horne is skinny and lithe whereas James Corden is big and fat. This realisation is pretty important – without it, many of the show’s sketches (such as the one where Corden takes off his shirt, grabs his belly, shakes it about while screaming ‘WHERE DID THIS COME FROM?!?!?!?’ for four and a half minutes) are liable to simply fly over the head of casual viewers.

SKETCH THREE: “MAN BEING PUSHED OVER”
MH: I am a posh-looking businessman doing some middle class, in this case buying paté at a posh supermarket.
James Corden runs into frame and pushes him over.
JC: I pushed you over!
MH: Oh no, I fell over! I do look silly!
JC: I did it!
End of Sketch
(Repeated week-to-week in a variety of different situations)

Many sketch show precursors to Horne & Corden threw in a number recurring in-jokes for eagle-eyed viewers to spot; the exact same throwaway reference (for example, the lemon drink in TMWRNJ) would reappear constantly throughout a season, often with minor variations. What's great about Horne & Corden is that they do the same thing, except they push it another step further and more or less fill every episode with the same seven or eight sketches rotated about with minor cosmetic variations for the entire season; therefore if you liked the posh-looking businessman being pushed over in the supermarket, you are likely to LOVE the posh-looking businessman being pushed over in, say, the gym! Or the toilets! I’m looking forward to tuning in next week to see where the posh-looking businessman gets pushed over next (I hope it’s a posh gallery opening!!!). Sure, “people” may say that familiarity breeds contempt but did those people star in the Catherine Tate show or write Bafta-winning comedy 'Gavin & Stacey' or flirt with with Keith Allen’s daughter Lily Allen? No. No they didn’t. So they don’t know shit about comedy.

SKETCH FOUR: “Big Penis”
Horne is working in an office when Corden walks in
JC: Hey, Matthew Horne, guess what?
MH: What?
JC: I just had that penis enlargement surgery that you can have.
MH: Wow! Is your penis bigger?
JC: Yeah a bit. Want to see?
MH: Yeah!
James Corden unzips his flies, at which point a huge long prosthetic penis falls out of his crotch and lands on the desk
JC: Look, I had penis enlargement surgery and now my penis is bigger.
MH: Yes.
JC: We sure presented an cause-effect relationship in this sketch.
MH: Yes, because the penis is bigger. And there it is.
JC: So we’re happy with this sketch, then? This it is. This is what we’re going to broadcast to millions.
MH: Yes. Yes I am. I think that this sketch is the best that it possibly can be. We’ve written something to be proud of here. I’m going to lie on my deathbed in sixty years and think fondly back on that time when we did a sketch where the punchline was a large prosthetic penis. The joke being that you had surgery to make your penis bigger, and it was a success, and now you have a big penis. Which we’ve presented here on screen. That’s the joke. A penis. We’re getting paid thousands of pounds for this.
End of Sketch

At this point we realise that Horne & Corden have produced not just a sketch show, but an incredibly sophisticated post-modern deconstruction of the sketch show format as a whole. Just as in Alan Moore’s ‘Watchmen’, where the author presented the various tropes and trappings of the superhero as nothing more than a series of arbitrary nominal moral distinctions, in ‘Horne & Corden’ our two clown visionaries have dragged the sketch format down by not actually including any punchlines, jokes that aren’t puns or non-sequiteurs, or humour.

SKETCH FIVE: “Xander”
MH: I’m a posh man.
JC: I’m an obnoxious person. My name is Xander. I do obnoxious things.
MH: Oh no!
End of Sketch
Repeated week-to-week in a variety of different situations

SKETCH SIX: “Something About Superman And Spiderman”
MH: I am a posh superman.
JC: I am an obnoxious spiderman.
Both: We are doing normal everyday things that superheroes do not traditionally do.
JC: I act obnoxiously.
MH: Oh no!
End of Sketch
Repeated week-to-week in a variety of different situations

SKETCH SEVEN: “For Whatever Fucking Reason They’re Buying Clothes From A Shop”
A shop. MH or JC comes out of the front door holding a bag. He holds it aloft, proudly.
MH/JC: I HAVE JUST BOUGHT SOME INNOCULOUS-LOOKING CLOTHES
End of Sketch
Repeated week-to-week. No variety of situations. seriously thats it

SKETCH EIGHT: “Horne and Corner dress in stupid clothes and do a comedy song making fun of the Christians in which the main jokes appear to be that if you sing words really long, then sometimes the beginning of the word sounds like a swear-word (for example CUNTTTTTTTTTTT-RY), and also the fact that saying ‘touch me heavenly father’ in reference to the hymn also sounds a bit like asking your paedophile father to molest you, and concluding by singing the names of a list of celebrities (no, that’s the joke), so they repeat that four or fives times and then the show’s over and this is broadcast to the entire country”

This sketch ends the show every single time.

* * *

All in all, on my cultural barometer I would probably place 'Horne & Corden' into the same pigeon-hole as I do Robbie Williams and Rupert Everett’s performance of ‘They Can’t Take That Away From Me’ from Robbie’s 2001 Sinatra inspired album ‘Sing When You’re Winning’, especially the bit when Robbie and Rupert start riffing with each other and playing grabass, which is basically equivalent with me saying that it’d probably be a good idea to tie Corden and Horne to a chair and keep hurting them until they promise to never release anything they produce into the public domain ever again.
-- My Official Writeup

Where've I been?

Sick in bed, that's where. With a bad cold.

(I refuse to call it a "flu" because I've never had the flu before. I've never had anything where I've been throw-uppy and diarrhea-y, so I've. never. had. the. flu. So no, I'm not getting a flu shot, so quit asking me.)

(But I have had pneumonia.)

(And bronchitis.)

I think the worst part of being sick AND a curmudgeon, like I am, is that now all those people who were coughing around my cubicle last week are all whispering about ME --"why doesn't she just go home and quit spreading her germs!?" Which is what I was saying about THEM last week. Big jerks. If they'd stayed home when I'd grumbled/asked them, I wouldn't be sick!

Hmph!

Woo with Words

Strolling the grounds of the Clark Gardens, Weatherford Texas, we watched this peacock strut. He sensed the white feathered female nearby but she ignored him, so he worked harder to get attention.

Whipped up the razzle dazzle. Still no luck. I think she yawned, if that's possible.

Finally, he unveiled the show. Spectacular color, massive plummage, he tapdanced his heart out. Alas, she scurried away.

If only he'd written her a poem, wooed her with words - well chosen words. Rid himself of unnecessary adjectives or adverbs, and honed in on action verbs. He thought about the video production, but didn't have the right script.

It's all about word choice.

Joanne

Prayers and hopes are answered!

I went into the vet's office last night expecting the worst. It's kinda in my nature to be a pessimist; it's only when I'm outside among the birds and trees, or when I'm with my dear friends like The Flock or my Matty McMatterson, or when I think about our wonderful new president, that I'm upbeat and happy and hopeful.

And so it was with heavy heart that I walked with my little Son, Moon, and Stars™ in Ellen Scholz's All Creatures Veterinary Care Clinic. I knew we had an uphill battle, fighting an infection that had affected Niblet's skull, so I was prepared to hear bad news.

Boy, was I wrong.

Indeed, Dr. Scholz was surprised at how fast and how well Nibble's incision has been healing! She then cleaned out the fake-ear opening she made, pulling some hair and some scabby stuff out of the site. Then she flushed the wound: NO PUS! Niblet's beating the infection! Everything came out clear, and we're on the road to a full recovery!

I can't tell you how relieved I was to hear this; I became giddy, joking with the doctor about how strong my little man is, how he can poop more poops per hour than any other bunny known to man! How he can eat a carrot faster than a speeding bunny! How he can put a hole in my shirt lickety-split with one nibble! I was so happy.

So here's my sweet bun, back home from the vet's office, having a little treat because he was such a brave boy:He didn't have to be put under anesthesia or anything for the stitch removal; they just held him and he was very brave about it, barely even flinching. That's my tough little guy!

This morning, I squirted his antibiotics onto his pellets and he ate them up like a good boy:So you can see where he's bald still, the affected area from the surgery. And the little red spot is where he has his fake-ear opening. I asked Dr. Scholz about what the goal is, and she said we'll keep him on his Baytril for another week, plus there's this steroidal ointment I have to squirt into his fake-ear opening once a day for a while, and then we have to go back for another check-up in two weeks (and she'll file down his molars--more on this later). Ideally, everything will still be clean, and the hole will be there to release any kind of drainage from his inner ear etc., and then he'll be a normal little bunny! (or as normal as a cute-as-a-button earless bunny can be)

The molars thing: His front teeth are actually fine--he's been eating his hay and his fruit-wood sticks and stuff, and he's fine. But apparently, bunnies' molars don't meet flush and so where there's no meeting (and thus grinding down), the molars tend to get a little "peak" on them. This must be filed down from time to time. So that's what she'll do in two weeks.

The best thing is that I finally had a night where I didn't suffer from the reflux I've been having for the last two weeks or so. I'm weird with stress; my mind and my emotional well-being are rarely affected by stress. My body, on the other hand, shows stress like a badge of honor, with searing pain in my neck or shoulders, or the old standby gastro-esophageal reflux. That's always fun. I actually threw up the night before the appointment, it was so bad. But last night, happy and with Nibble munching his hay contentedly, I slept well and without too much pain.

We still have our check-up in a fortnight, but I'm confident that things will be fine. Niblet and I will take good care of his little fake-ear opening, and we'll watch Buffy on DVD, and we'll welcome the coming spring together while we listen to the Ella Fitzgerald CD that Lynne, that sweetie and lover of turkey vultures everywhere, sent us to show she was thinking of us:It even has one of our favorite songs, "It's Only a Paper Moon!" Once again, all is right with the world.

Well, except for the fact that we had snow flurries this morning....

When do you have too many flower pics?

Can you ever really have too many flower pictures? Here's more shots from last weekend's trek to the Dallas arboretum. So much material to work with, it's flowers on steroids.

I liked these two hardy souls.

The Arboretum theme is Storybooks. Hmmm - Dr.Seuss "One Fish, Two Fish..." I've read this a thousand times to Abigail and she never tires of the rhyme, nor do I. It becomes almost pathological.

Gotta root for the cactus. Hardy and almost belligerent. Domineering in its environment.

Are you tired of haiku? I'm not, though I might wear out my fingers counting syllables.

should learn flower names
bask in bountiful purple
bell shaped loveliness

Joanne

P.S. I'm still jacking with the tile contractor and the pool's still green. The zen of the arboretum keeps me from being crazy. I need to return when the azaleas go berserk.

Niblet update on an important day

Today's important because he's getting his stitches removed. The appointment is this evening at 6:15, and I'm vaguely remembering from his surgery appt that Dr. Scholz said he'd need to be anesthetized again for the stitch removal, as well as for a tooth check. Seems I haven't been giving Niblet enough apple and pear wood sticks to chew, and his teeth are just a hair (heh) too long. So she'll be taking care of that tonight as well -- at least I think I remember that. I really was pretty wacked out on the day of his surgery. I wouldn't be surprised to find out I'd forgotten to wear pants that day, but I don't recall any screams or stares.

I don't recall them, anyway.

I hope I'm not right about the anesthesia, because it's really traumatic to see him go under and then have to wake up and stuff. His little soft body goes so limp, and it makes me scared and sad.

This morning, I tried to look closely at the incision site because it seemed a little puffy to me, but I touched it and he ran away. Now I'm really worried that underneath, he's developed more pus and stuff, hence the puffiness. Let's hope not.

Full report tomorrow, probably with new pictures (I'm hoping she'll clean him up a bit and he won't be all bloody and stuff). Think of my little Son, Moon, and Stars™ tonight, friends.

Barnegat Light ordeal--close to home!

This morning, one of the more prolific commenters on the PA birding listserv informed us that HE was the one who fell between the rocks on the Barnegat Light jetty! He got some spectacular images, but oh, at what a cost!

If you're interested in his account (and photos), visit his site. At least he retained his sense of humor!

I wasn't going to write a thing.........

A friend, Linda T., and I succumbed to the beauty of the Dallas Arboretum. It was a tad gray outside, but it wasn't windy. Hence, tulips were not flying off the stems as we strolled the property. Glorious color, fabulous fields of 450,000 bulbs. These folks are insane in their plantings. It is poetry.

So, I wasn't going to write a thing......but here's a haiku I wrote a few weeks ago. Must share with the world.

fleeting harsh march winds
morose keen and winter pale
single yellow tulip

Indoor birding with bun

Thanks again for all your prayers and positive thoughts for me and my wee bun. I still haven't been able to bring myself to post a photo of him post-surgery, but I did want to give you an idea of the situation, so I've modified this little photo:So the red area is all shaved now, with some dried blood and such. (calming breaths) The little blue area is approximately where Dr. Scholz created a new opening to Niblet's inner ear. She had some difficulty, as normally she would've stitched the opening to his ear canal; however, as Niblet had no ear canal left, thanks to the infection, she couldn't do that. Still, the little hole is there, and we're due at Dr. Scholz's office on Thursday evening to get Niblet's stitches removed. At that point, I'm hoping to learn whether the infection is being minimized by the antibiotics and how Niblet's treatment will proceed.
- - - - - - - -

I don't know if there are any documented cases of sleeping sickness in Bellefonte PA, but I honestly believe I was bitten by a tsetse fly this weekend. I slept and slept, Niblet right beside me, and when I wasn't sleeping, I was obsessively making bird lists and thumbing through bird guides.

During the sleep-intensive weekend, Niblet and I aired out the house some, what with our temps being in the 50s. Niblet is back to his usual eating and drinking habits, which is a big relief. At first he wasn't too keen on the medicine smell in his pellets, but he's gotten used to it. He's eating his greens, accepting with relish the bits of strawberry I've taken to giving him, and nibbling up the small amount of pellets (with meds squirted on them) I give him in the morning and the evening. At night, when I get in bed and settle in to read or do a crossword, he jumps up there with me and that's when I squirt chloramphenicol ointment into his newly created ear hole. He's so brave, not even flinching when I do this. What a good little boy!

Meanwhile, Gretchen and I have decided to do our camping trip in Cape May instead of a state park in PA. Same price, and with the two of us splitting gas and costs, it'll be an affordable and fun way to get a great birding trip in before I leave for the West Coast!

All of my Flock friends will be in West Virginia, whooping it up with BT3 and Zick and Chet Baker -- which I will miss intensely! -- but this way, costs are kept down and I'm not away from Niblet for quite as long. The official dog of beginningtobird will be with us as well:
This is Domino wearing Laurie's winter hat. Gretchen and I have taken to calling this photo "Driving Miss Nommy." "That's not the way to the Piggly-Wiggly!"

I asked Niblet if he wanted to come camping with us, but he said there was no way we'd catch HIM camping out in a tent among the common cottontails and such. He has his standards. So his Auntie Anne will be coming over to take care of him while I'm gone.

When we weren't napping, Niblet and I were watching Buffy on DVD and making a list of potential lifers I'll have a good chance of seeing in Cape May. According to my Cape May checklist, there are 40 birds that are common or fairly common at that time of year that would also be lifers for me. It'll be harder to ID some of the peeps and such, without a real field trip leader with us, but I'm also going to be studying my copy of BT3's Identify Yourself to make sure I'm as prepared as possible to tell the difference between a Semipalmated Sandpiper and a Least Sandpiper or whatever.

Most of the birds on my list of 40 are peeps and other such shore and marsh birds. There are also a couple of warblers, some sparrows, and six or seven songbirds I'll be looking to see. I can't wait to go to my favorite spots on the cape--the Beanery, that marshy area owned by the Nature Conservancy? maybe? (I think it's called the Migratory Bird Refuge now), the big pond at Cape May Point, and of course the beaches at Cape May Point and Sunset Beach. We might also take the ferry over to Lewes and back for a "mini-pelagic," though I'm not sure we'll be able to squeeze that in. I wonder if Liz and Jeff Gordon will be home; I'll have to check. (How lucky am I to have gone to high school (and been in a children's theatre production of The Frog Prince) with Liz Gordon back when she was Liz Fleming? She played the wicked queen; I played a sprite named Spree. Ah, memories!)

Gretchen and her family used to go to Cape May every summer, so it'll be old home weekend for her too. We're both so excited about the prospect of doing some heavy-duty birding together, especially since she got a pair of Vortex binocs!

Newest news of the Nibble

Niblet is doing well two days after his surgery. The cage confinement didn't last too long, however; I got home yesterday and found his greens (and the strawberry) untouched and some massive disapproval in evidence on Nib's face. I was worried--when a bunny won't eat, you know the end is near.

So I let him out and he back-feet-flipped me off and hid under the couch. I ended up moving his greens and stuff near the couch and he ate them right away. He even finally ate the pain-med-suffused strawberry, but not until sometime after 1 a.m. I still haven't seen him drinking anything, however, and that worries me.

This morning he was lively and did his usual morning ablutions (litty, nibble on hay, litty, nidge my head to wake me up, litty, litty, disapproving looks, litty). I chased him for some 20 minutes before finally giving up on dosing him directly; I squirted the pain med and antibiotics into some pellets, left him a big pile of greens, and said "All this better be gone when I get home from work!"

No response from under the couch.
I'll give him one thing: he's stubborn like his mama.

Last night, a friend came over and we went for a walk in the cold night air. We cruised through downtown Bellefonte (like New York, only ... NOT) and found some pretty scary window-shopping:

Great Horned Great Eyed Great Nightmare Owl?

There were also some really creepy dolls, but it was too dark to capture their images. That, or the camera simply couldn't capture their spectral presences.

Once again, Niblet and I thank you so much for all your good wishes, and I'll keep you posted. At this point, I'm hoping that when we go to get his stitches removed on Thursday, Dr. Scholz will say that the infection hasn't worsened (no more pus has developed). She mentioned something about a draining mechanism to keep it all at bay, but honestly--I was a little in shock while she was talking about the future, so I'm not sure what the future holds. All I know is that we're taking it one day at time, one dosing at a time, and we're hoping for the best. I'm just not ready to lose my little love. (Will I ever be ready?)
Going birding tomorrow morning, I think--I've been obsessively thumbing through my Eastern birds guide trying to figure out the best places to get these birds before I leave for the West. I'm wondering whether a trip to Cape May is possible, so that I can get some more terns and gulls and stuff. Maybe another mad-dash day trip, but without the getting lost parts? Laura, what do you think?

Meanwhile, I'll just have to content myself with local birding. And if it kills me, I'm gonna see an American woodcock, dangit, not just hear it!

Reading Revelry

Reading begats writing. One of my favorite presents as a kid was receiving my very own library card. My name. My gateway to the North Wales Library (in PA) and a lifetime of books. Now I have a ton of material on writing as you can see - dictionaries, thesaurus, slang word books, writer market books, literary journals. It's important to check out the competition.

In my "pretty room" ( so named because there is NO television and when the boys were young there was NO fighting allowed here), I keep a pile of reading material handy. Daily, I read the Dallas Morning News. Weekly - it's Time and Entertainment Weekly. Then Writer's Digest, plus other assorted periodicals passed on by friends.

Current books in the pile - Bright Lights, Big Ass by Jen Lancaster (hysterically funny). State by State - A Panoramic Portrait of America edited by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey (50 writers, 50 states. I just finished New Jersey's section written by Anthony Bourdain, in his usual sardonic style). The Poetry Home Repair Manual by Ted Kooser, New and Selected Poems, Volume 2 by Mary Oliver, The Complete Poems by Elizabeth Bishop (all of these poetry books were inspired from the workshop two weeks ago), and Closing Costs by Seth Margolis (haven't started this yet, but he was a keynote speaker at a TWW conference two years ago. This book is a loaner - sorry Seth, no royalties from me).

Am I currently reading anything in my novel genre? No, but I love variety. I can't imagine life without reading. What's in your pile? Anything to recommend.....or lend?!

Joanne

Niblet update

Well, it was a long day of anxious waiting yesterday, to see what would happen when Dr. Scholz went in for her exploratory surgery on Niblet's non-ear. The results were not good. It seems the infection that brought about the abcess has been there lots longer than the abcess itself. It had completely eaten away Niblet's ear canal, and there were signs that his skull bone was infected as well.

I had two choices--1. put him down without letting him wake up from the anesthesia, and 2. go for an experimental treatment, in which Dr. S would construct a permanent opening by which we could access the infection and inner ear directly and thus treat the infection. Obviously, I couldn't just let him go--not without giving him a fighting chance. So we chose to fight.

I don't want to talk too much about the specifics of the operation except to say that I was there for the end of it and watched Dr. S sew him up. There was some bleeding from the bone, and that was worrisome, but it's stopped now. I took a photo of Niblet's half-shaved head, but it was still pretty bloody (she didn't want to wipe it too much for fear of starting the bleeding again) and I just didn't think you should see him that way.

Instead, you can look at him the normal way, eating some notes I took on a book about archeology:He's such a little imp!

He is very active and alert, and he wants to run around and be his happy little self. However, I have to keep him in his cage for at least a day or so while the bone stops bleeding for good. He needs to rest and relax and heal. He's not too happy about the cage, or the meds I have to squirt into his mouth, but I'm determined to take the best possible care of him.

Already he's started protesting in his little ways: his newest trick is to dig fiercely in his litty, kicking dirty Yesterday's News litter out of the cage and onto my bedroom carpet! He also won't take his meds the easy way--I was squirting them onto some pellets which he would then eat. Well, he seems to have wised up to this trick, and now he raises his nose at his pellets. Imagine! This bunny, who normally flips out for pellets like they're his crack or something, is now refusing to eat the pellets! Sheesh. I was a half-hour late to work this morning, chasing him around the apartment, under the couch, etc. I finally got the antibiotics down, but he squirmed away before I could give him the pain med. So I just poked the syringe into a strawberry and squirted it in there, and gave him the strawberry. I'm sure he'll eat it (I hope).

So wish us luck, pray, think good thoughts, light a candle--whatever you can do for my little Son, Moon, and Stars™. He's got to beat this bone infection. He's too full of life, as my dear FranSheIs said on the phone with me yesterday, to just go down without a fight.

More birds than I've ever seen in my whole life

this photo idea came off a lot better in my head than it did in reality

NOW UPDATED! with pics!

Middle Creek was soooo worth the long drive (~3 hrs), which of course is NOTHING compared to the "Horned Guan Death March" (lol) that Birdchick and Mike Bergin went on. Poor souls! I never would've made it up that mountain. They would've had to leave me there to die in the dust.

Still--it was a long drive, and I didn't know either of the people I was with, so you know my shyness was on display. . . . as if. Unfortunately, my brain snapped into "talk like your life depends on it!" mode, which means they got to hear all sorts of ridiculous Delia-lore. I won't bore you with it, but let's just say I think Maggie, Anne, and Deb (left to right) probably think I'm a psycho-clown:
Oh well.

Anyway--we arrived at Middle Creek around 3 in the afternoon, and I got my first look at Snow Geese and Tundra Swans! The official count was about 50K birds that day, which pretty much blew my mind. I even got video of a little swarm-up (a plane flew over and spooked 'em). [Can't get the video to "do"--grrr!!! Photos must suffice. Hmph.]
It was mind-blowing, seeing so many birds all in one place. There were dozens of people there too, all to watch this spectacle--which was neat.

I took lots of photos of the pure white geese, the pretty blue-morphs, and the huge Tundras. We also saw a Bald Eagle out on the water; he sat there for at least a half hour, just hanging out. We saw several baldies that day, all over the place, including one on a nest (no photo of that; we could barely make her out thanks to the fading light). We did not get to the see the Short-eared Owls that apparently EVERYONE ELSE on the listserv saw that day, but I did get to hear an American Woodcock! It was pretty dark, so there was no seeing them, but still--an ear lifer!

All told, I saw 30 species Saturday, and my lifers for the day were Snow Goose, Tundra Swan, Common Merganser, and the ear lifer American Woodcock.

OH--forgot to mention this yesterday: we drove around the trail and encountered this field of fake birds, which even featured some moving decoys flapping up:
What did it mean? How did it work? Upon closer inspection, we found the culprits:We couldn't figure out whether they were hunters or park-hired "attractors," working to get the birds over to this other section of the park. ?

On Sunday morning, I got up and despite the rain, I decided to visit Bald Eagle State Park to see if there were any interesting ducks or other waterfowl. The lake was waaaaaay down, which was weird to see; no idea where all the water went. I saw a flock of about 70 Tundras fly over at one point--on their way home to the extreme north, I guess. Wonder if they'd been at Middle Creek with me yesterday.

I saw a little raft of about 30 Ring-necked Ducks, 6 Redheads, and then 3 "mystery ducks" -- UPDATE: Not ducks! Hooded Mergansers in winter plumage!


Told you the pics weren't too great.

Oh--I forgot to show you this little "rescue kit": So you use that plank that says "ICE RESCUE" on it as a ski, pushing with your shoe'd foot, and then turn the plank over and it somehow serves as an anchor (I don't see how--there aren't any nails or anything on it to anchor it--blind faith?), then I guess you push that ladder out there (that part's not in the instructions!). Luckily, there was no lake, much less ice, so no one needed this mentally challenged Texan to help him out. Whew!

So--pics now here, and ID done. Meanwhile, how was your weekend?

Mulch Madness

Morose. March, for me, is frustrating. I want spring and flowers. Yet the reality is monsoons (we hope) and crazy winds. I've been burned by planting too early. So, we (Ray) tilled an area, added manure, re-planted a hardy sage, and mulched.

Mortar - we knew water was seeping away. We knew we had to face the reality of pool repair. Alas, the project turned uglier than expected. (Then again, were we shocked?) Our contractor dug deeper and now we await fresh construction.

Madness - Like any March project, one must dig deeper, remove the crumbled mess, and slowly rebuild. My November 2008 NaNo novel rested fallow for December and January. February I hauled it out, re-read it, and was still enamoured by my words. March, on about the fiftieth reading and with generous sharp eyed critiques from fellow writers, I realized it had festered on a tipsy foundation. "Ambitious Whine" needs an overhaul - patchwork fixes (like our past summer's silicone slapdash pool solutions) will no longer do. I need to work tile by tile, word by word, and give my characters a decent platform to launch their adventures. Perhaps, spread a bit more manure, too!

Joanne

San Antonio wrap-up

If this isn't a House Sparrow or a Field Sparrow next to that Black-crested Titmouse, that'll be another bird on my list! Any guesses? (It's probably just a house sparrow)

It was quite a week for me in San Antonio: I saw my family, much of whom I'd not seen in four years; I saw my parents' new home; I birded; I had good Mexican food; and I met a bloggy hero, Karen Zipdrive. I'm smiling as I type, just remembering all the good times.

I wish I could post a few more photos from my last morning of birding, but I left my USB transfer cable at my parents' house so I can't get the pics off my camera! Dangit! I'll include some other photos, though, and give you the birdy recap.

Total species seen: 35
Lifers seen: 6

Kinda disappointing, but it IS rather early, even in Texas I think. We had great weather (in the 80s) every day except my first Saturday (60s and cloudy/rainy) and my last Saturday (50s with a serious windchill). Still, there were a lot of cardinals and mockers everywhere, but not a whole lot of other birds.

My list, with lifers highlighted in red--there was some confusion in my brain as to whether I'd already notched a Blue-headed Vireo; I had. However, I realized I had not gotten a Carolina Chickadee, so that made up for it:
American Kestrel
Bewick's Wren
Black Vulture
Black-crested Titmouse
Blue Jay
Blue-headed Vireo
Carolina Chickadee
Carolina Wren
Common Grackle
Eastern Phoebe
European Starling
Field Sparrow
Golden-fronted Woodpecker
Great Egret
Great Horned Owl (heard only, not seen, dangit!)
Great-tailed Grackle
House Sparrow
Inca Dove
Killdeer
Mallard
Mourning Dove
Northern Cardinal
Northern Flicker
Northern Mockingbird
Northern Shoveler**
Orange-crowned Warbler
Red-shouldered Hawk
Red-tailed Hawk
Red-winged Blackbird
Rock Pigeon
Ruby-crowned Kinglet
Sharp-shinned Hawk
Turkey Vulture
White-winged Dove
Yellow-rumped Warbler
**the mystery duck from my other post; thanks to the commenter who suggested that--I saw it again on my last day and checked out his huge bill and knew instantly

Not a bad haul, I guess--considering I had no idea where I was half the time. I'm sure there were other birds everywhere I went. I am certain I saw some sort of thrasher or thrush at one point, but I didn't see it long enough to get an ID. Also, I am almost certain I saw a Red-bellied Woodpecker; however, according to the SA Audubon Society's listing, it would've been rather a rarity. I only got a quick glance, but I'm pretty sure that it was a Red-bellied. I wanted to make it into a Ladder-backed, but I couldn't do that either; I just didn't get a good enough look.

Tomorrow, I'll be heading to the Lancaster PA area to visit Middle Creek, where there are up to 80,000 migrating Snow Geese at this time of the year! It snowed on Tuesday, however, so the birder I'm going with said it might be down to like 15,000 -- "only" 15,000. AS IF! My mind is already reeling at the thought of seeing that many birds (much less geese) at one time. I'll take pics, and I'll try to get a camera cord so you can see them. Can't wait!

breaks and ....pauses

Trinity Writers' Workshop held a poetry seminar for members on Saturday, Feb. 28th. The guest speaker, David Evans, is the Poet Laureate of South Dakota. A charming and thoughtful man, he eased us into the world of poetry. Discussing structure, beat, and word choice, he emphasized that poetry should be accessible. We looked at proverbs, rhymes, one liners, and prose poems. He engaged us in writing exercises and encouraged us all. One form I hadn't given much thought is Haiku - three lines. Syllable count is five, seven, five. Brevity and thoughts on the physical world are key. I'll give it a try based on the ROCK in the Outback of Australia. See pictures above. First the night

Reds to purples fade

light switch of sun flickers once

slate blue gray nightfall

And day:

Raw red rock rises

majestic sparse glare and heat

aboriginal

It's fun to distill a picture into a few words, hopefully an accessible image.

Joanne