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Friday, January 25, 2013

Hey birds! Fixed income here

A redpoll picks through the last of the seeds.
These feeders were all full to the brim Thursday morning.  The pictures were taken around 1 p.m. Friday (today).

This is always the first
one emptied.
While filling them, some quick guesstimate calculations came up with these numbers, the feed so far this winter:  black sunflower seeds, almost 90 pounds; sunflower chips, about 16 pounds; and thistle seeds about 5 pounds.  So, up until now these birds have eaten more than 100 pounds of feed put out for them.  Those are farm numbers for crying out loud.  Of course some of that poundage is what they spill on the ground,  but juncoes, grosbeaks and some redpolls, along with the grouse when they show up pick through those leavings.  Sometimes I will let the feeders stay empty for a day to force them to pick through what's on the ground.  Two days and they are gone for a while to somebody else's yard, I assume.  At times they can be
quite discerning diners.
A couple of redpolls aim at the remaining thistle seeds.

I remember years ago when in another climate we put out peanuts for the Steller's jays.  Several times we saw a jay land, puke up some sunflower seeds it had picked up somewhere else and then grab a peanut and take off with it.




Chickadees will come to the feeder while I
am filling it.
Today to refill the feeders, I opened the second 40-pound bag of sunflower seeds this season and another 4-pound bag of sunflower chips.  (The chips are expensive and go very fast so I only put a little out as kind of frosting for the rest.)

And what do I get for that?  I mean besides the pleasure of seeing them, and all the photographs I can find nothing else to do with except post them on here and facebook.

At this point it's a commitment. If I were to just quit filling them, I might have a real game of Angry Birds on my hands.

One thing I better get is well-fertilized soil when it comes to gardening in a few months.  That's why the biggest concentration of feeders is in the garden in the first place.

UPDATE: Just 24 hours later, had to refill them all again.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013

Another conversation with Patricia


The things you learn while editing:  Today, finally, I confirmed the meaning of "antebellum."  Without looking it up, over time I came to decipher the meaning at least in the United States as dating back to before the Civil War.  That is where the term is used most often. Who has ever read a novel about the South that doesn't have an antebellum mansion in it?

The real meaning came up today in a conversation with Patricia.  Now, if you have stuck with this blog over the years, you know Patricia as a writer friend with whom I carried on long electronic conversations about writing.  In time she developed cancer and she died last November, leaving me with a void in my life and three expensive tickets to a Lady Gaga concert.

She also left me with a chore.  At the time of her death, she was editing her book "The New Book of Goddesses and Heroines" for a new edition.  Mostly the editing was shortening the book.  She was unable to finish it and her husband asked me to complete the edit, a chore I at first resisted, but now have embraced as it is keeping me in touch with my friend, in part giving me an answer to the question I asked at the end of the post I wrote about her passing:  What am I going to do now?  What I am going to do, what I am doing is converse with her almost daily about word choices, antecedents, references and all the little details of writing craft.  Patricia is one of those writers who is difficult to cut.  It is a burden for editors, but a joyful one, because good writers like Patricia make it very difficult to leave anything out.

As I have gone through it, I find myself looking at the ceiling wondering what she meant here, and is this going to hurt the message if I take it out, and why did you say this instead of this?  I find myself often talking to her, explaining why this or that is a good cut and why I took it out, even sometimes apologizing for what I am cutting, sometimes shaking my head to chastise, noting something I know I told her about years ago.  I can almost see the smile on her face as she patronizes me, acknowledging that I am right, while at the same time stubbornly refusing to change it.

Along the way she is teaching me, exposing  a world and a perspective very new to my way of thinking.  I wonder how much of classical mythology reaches kids in schools today.  I know from what I am reading now that what little I received in world history and Latin classes was largely male-based, highlighting the gods and relegating the goddesses to consort roles.  That's the perspective Patricia is now in the process of changing for me.

I catch myself often saying, oh that's where that comes from, while reading one entry or another and connecting a name to modern word usage, or seeing the logic in the development of goddesses in native cultures, some of whom are still with us in one form or another.  Just look at the names of all the stars and particularly constellations.

And I so much want to tell her a story.  Often when dealing with ancient cultures there are varying opinions and interpretation of people and events that occurred before written history and even after for that matter.  As a result people writing about it and attempting to show all interpretations will use the term "Some say," this or that.  What I want to tell her is that while I was in college, in an age of change, black studies and particularly history courses were quickly added to curricula.  At the University of Kansas a black history professor from a small college in Missouri was flown in twice a week to teach a huge lecture class in that history.  Twice a week we had to sit and listen to this guy drone on taking all the life out of what should have been fascinating history beginning with origins in Africa.  His favorite source was a professor "some say" as I called it, for example (and he really said this) "Some say Cleopatra was black." Eventually I quit going to class except for the midterm and the final.  At the time I was also taking Recent American History, which began in the late 19th century.  An energetic young instructor taught it and he had wound black history in the with rest of it.  How good was he?  I got a B in black history and a C in modern American history.  But the younger fellow never quoted Dr. Some Say.  And, now whenever I come across Patricia saying "Some say..." I have to laugh and look at the ceiling and wish I could tell her why I want to change it.

So the conversations with Patricia go on, in an altered state, but allowing me to feel she is still at least influencing us.  I am sure, given our conversations about procrastination, she would be laughing at the machinations I go through to avoid sitting down and cutting more out of her beautiful piece of work.  But I do it, because it keeps us in touch, and pushes further into the future that day when I have to ask again "What am I going to do now?"

And, "antebellum?"  According to Patricia, Bellona was a Roman goddess who ruled conflict, diplomatic as well as military, and the Latin word for war, "bellum," derives from her name.


Earthmaker judges the world



Conversations with Patricia: Day before the election (with apologies)



Monday, January 21, 2013

'All we are saying ...'


Today brought to mind several songs. The National Anthem sung by Beyonce so beautifully and powerfully for one. John Lennon’s "Imagine" for another.  One that came up was Paul Simon's "Silent Night, Six O’clock News."  Looking over the day's news, of course dominated by the inauguration, that song resonated with what else was going on today. If you don’t know the song, he recorded it during the Vietnam War and he sang "Silent Night," while in the background a newsman announces news of war and other mayhem.

On a day we honor the greatest civil rights leader the United States has ever seen and on this particular one, we inaugurate the country's first African-American president for the second time, a day that should be one to glorify peace and understanding, like in Paul Simon's song, these headlines showed up on news sites reporting events other than the inauguration:

'Horrific' scene after teen allegedly kills family

'Ridiculous': Five shot on MLK Blvd. on MLK Day

SWAT team finds head, two hands after standoff

Fan stabbed after NFC Championship Game

Dad kills wife, self at daughter's 16th birthday party

1 shot dead, 1 stabbed after punk rock brawl

Feds investigate how Ohio felon obtained arsenal 


And elsewhere:

Insurgents launch 8-hour attack on Afghan traffic cops

Sahara hostage death toll will rise, Algeria warns

Algeria PM says 48 killed in gas-plant attack

Kony 'bodyguard killed in CAR jungles'

Hearings begin in Indian gang-rape trial

Bulgaria gun attacker charged

Suicide car bombing hits central Syrian town

And then this one:

NRA crosses line with diabolical ad featuring Obama's daughters

"... is give peace a chance."  -- John Lennon, The Beatles

and then there's Pete Seeger's "Where have all the flowers gone," performed by Peter, Paul and Mary

Friday, January 18, 2013

The poll of polls

An individual redpoll.
And this one's red.  These pictures might give a little indication why the birds have gone through about 75 pounds of seeds this winter and it's only the middle of January.  This group is made up of common redpolls and they fly in clouds.  I would guess I have had as many as 100 in the yard at one time.  They tend to push the other birds out of the way but amid the flock there are always the usual chickadees, nuthatches and grosbeaks.

Gathering at the sunflower hearts feeder.
Some snow finally fell, too.  So, it's beginning to look a lot more like winter, after about two weeks of bare, brown ground.

So, the poll.  How many redpolls do you count in the photo at the bottom, the big one.  Those are thistle seeds they are fighting over.



This is the contest. How many redpolls do you see.
Winner gets to buy the next bag of thistle seeds with their thank you.

Friday, January 4, 2013

To everything there is a season ...


It's been a while I know.  Blame it on a bad bout with the flu coupled with a major holiday disappointment within the family.  Also, it seemed this blog had gotten away from its original intended purpose and turned into something of a personal journal, which almost by definition is bound to bore a reader to tears, if not the writer himself.  So, with that in mind, as we on this rock start another voyage around the sun, maybe it became necessary to stop and take a little stock and find that original direction which was simply to be an outlet for writing, an outlet that was not offered on any other platform at the time.  Somehow I let it evolve from that into relating daily experiences and not even expressing those very well.  So, for a while, posts may be few and far between.  Anyone who writes knows sometimes the creative tide ebbs and floods and it has been ebbing for a while, but will come back, it always does.
So, with an ocean metaphor as a transition, some random occurrences came up in the past couple of days, the kinds of things that get that tide turned.

Oh the places you will go

Some time ago I wrote about the ocean storm we experienced aboard the Arctic Tern III several years ago.  That was the maiden voyage for that vessel.  Recently I came across another blog that detailed more recent voyages on that very same sailboat.  A couple of years ago this fellow blogged a trip on her down the West Coast to Cabo.  His account of that voyage is on Captain Howard's Blog here. I left a comment on his blog pointing to my own post about the maiden voyage and, twice now he has added a comment to mine.

The first:

Thanks for that comment Tim, particularly the website/blog_ ’60* North’. Readers; On the left hand side there is a posting on the ‘HMS Bounty’ with an interesting human interest note about one of the crew lost in the Bounty disaster… Claudene Christian.

Err… that would be the blog/website ‘Alaska with Attitude’. My step dad grew up in Alaska so I have provided him with the Link…thanks again for the post, Tim.

Then today came a second one, an update.

I just reread your experience on Arctic Tern III — somewhere between South Africa and the Caribbean at present I think.

That one put a chill through me; the boat is still adventuring and I want to be there.  So it goes.

A left-handed compliment?

In a couple of other older posts I talked about this new Iditarod book coming up in the near future.  An editor is now going through it and unfortunately the publisher has forced her into making serious cuts in the manuscript.  The book post is here.  Another taken from one of the articles I wrote for it is here.  The editor sent an email today suggesting one cut she would like to make in the piece about the musher in that post.  My precious prose?  Oh no!

Now to put this in some context, I am also involved in editing thousands of words out of a manuscript and I do sympathize with the Iditarod editor.  In fact the cut she proposed was fine with me.  It really took nothing away from the main part of the story and if that helps, great.  And after the first shock I went back and read the rest of her email and read something that makes me want to put my board up on a wave of that incoming tide and take the ride.  Here's what she said: "Your stories were very difficult (to cut) because they're so darned good."

I'll take that with a thank you.

So with that for a start to another orbit, it is time to bring up the quality of the effort here and get away from day to day life.  But, I am NOT giving up on the bird pictures.

... and a time for every purpose under heaven.