Peanut Gallery

Peanuts with an olive oil chaser – yum! Photo: L. Weikel

I’m definitely getting trained. While I can’t say that I’ve totally got this down yet, since I pretty much need to get harangued every morning before I spring into action, I feel I’m at least becoming a bit more responsive to the demands of my peanut gallery.

And I actually think they take turns. Some mornings it’s the blue jays who glare at me, issuing forth an ear piercing shriek is I manage to ignore their dirty looks as they hop from one branch to another.

Other days it’s my grackles. They snag my attention by visiting in groups of five or six at a time. They swoop in and land on the empty peanut coil causing it to clatter against the wrought iron post that also proffers two conventional feeders filled with sunflower seeds. Black oil, no less. Only the best for my buds.

While the grackles and blue jays will reluctantly consume sunflower seeds, it is quite obvious that their preference is peanuts. And it goes without saying that all the woodpeckers that hang around near our home also do their best to deplete the resources, including their cousins, the nuthatches.

For a couple weeks, the fish crows had moved back into the avian neighborhood. Their distinctive grokking voices could be heard taunting each other high in the ash and maple trees that were just beginning to leaf out. They, too, knew of the legendary Weikel peanut dispensary and would visit frequently.

Inspecting the coil – Photo: L. Weikel

Feeding My Face – and Theirs

As I wrote about a couple of times in April and May, I simply had to confess my utter helplessness to stop binge-eating peanuts in response to the stress of this pandemic and its effect on my emotions. But I promise you: I would not be compulsively feeding my face with peanuts if I didn’t have bags of them set aside for my birds (and yes, even the squirrels).

It’s because of my dedication to my creatures that I have these stupid peanuts around my house, tempting me. But I’ve discovered something else. If I went by the demand in my yard, I could literally blow through a three pound bag of roasted peanuts every single day. And that’s without my help anymore!

But come to find out: one person’s loss is another critter’s bonanza. Check this out.

I just might be doing my fellow (peanut planting) Americans a service. Apparently there’s a glut of the prized Virginia peanuts on the market due to the suspension of major and minor league baseball. I didn’t realize bagged peanuts in the shell are a huge source of munching pleasure enjoyed by baseball aficionados.

As a result of discovering the plight of peanut farmers due to the Coronavirus, I now have a newfound appreciation for just what my patriotic duty could entail. Three pounds a day. I can do it.

And I know I have a lot of support for that strategy in the yard as well.