Chickadee Photo-bomb – Day 813

Posted on February 2, 2021March 3, 2021 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

What are you lookin’ at? – Photo: L. Weikel

Chickadee Photo-bomb

My feathered friends were in fine fettle today. Comings, goings, dodging of snowball-sized snowflakes. There was even a chickadee photo-bomb thrown into the mix. Life doesn’t get much better than having access to such color and sassiness, puffery and strategy.

We’ve formed a mutual admiration club that only seems to improve with time. I ensure their supply of sunflower seeds is topped off and never in danger of depletion and they provide a non-stop tutorial in avian culinary predilections and territorial posturing.

It just so happened I received an article about those very habits in my inbox this morning, which made my observations all the more enlightening.

Patience – Photo: L. Weikel

A Mere Sampling

It should be noted that the photos in tonight’s post are from only one of my feeders. The truth is, there’s an entire cadre of winged ones that don’t even deign to visit this particular feeder, probably because it’s so close to the house. As a result, these photos are but a mere sampling of the visitors we entertain.

The truth is, these spoiled creatures have access to seven other feeders on another side of our house. I just happen to feature photos mostly from this feeder because they’re the easiest for me to take. Indeed, sometimes it’s hard for me to get anything accomplished when they’re flitting and kibitzing with each other right outside my window.

And then there’s the occasional Boeing 747 that lands on the feeder, scattering all the little ones from hither to yon. I’m talking the red shouldered woodpeckers and blue jays, mostly. While these beasts were around today and sending everyone away in an occasional frenzy, they seemed a bit camera shy.

Don’t talk with your mouth full – Photo: L. Weikel

The Others

After I topped off the seven ‘other’ feeders, including the peanut coil, I stood very quietly on the porch and just observed. It did not take a full sixty seconds before everybody got the word that the goods had been delivered. A free-for-all was here for the taking.

Many of the birds that grace our land enjoy nibbling their kibble directly from the ground. Cardinals tend to be ground feeders (although they obviously won’t hesitate to imbibe from a feeder if need be), as do juncos. I didn’t realize that until today, when as I stood stock still on the porch to see who would show up if they thought I’d retreated inside, I saw at least fourteen juncos show up and do a little dance under the peanut coil.

I’m pretty sure they were more interested in the sunflower seeds I’d scattered there than the peanuts, but you never know. I’m always surprised by the little guys that try to wedge a peanut twice as big as their head out of the coil. I have to wonder: is that a ‘meal for the day?’

Crowd at the bar – Photo: L. Weikel

Sacrifice

I made the conscious choice to keep my phone (and hence my camera) in my pocket as I stood in observation mode on the porch. It was a sacrifice, but I didn’t want any movement of mine to scatter them. I wanted to see if I could get them to feel safe enough to eat freely in my presence. At one point, my quick count of all those prancing on top of the snow, clinging to the feeders themselves, and kibitzing from the overhanging branches of the maples came to at least 68.

I have to admit, it was a precious few minutes early this afternoon when I was graced with their trust. I’d decided to refill the feeders at that moment because the snowball-sized snowflakes that had pelted the area in a barrage of white fluff (it got deep fast) had subsided. The Weather Channel app on my phone was remarkably accurate this storm – and true to their prediction, I had a window in which to refill the feeders.

As I stood there watching and listening to the house and goldfinches, chickadees, juncos, cardinals, sparrows, woodpeckers, blue jays, wrens, and nuthatches call to each other, the snowstorm resumed. The flakes were no longer big enough to build a fort with singlehandedly, but they were falling so thickly and furiously, my eyelashes were coated and I could swear the birds were ducking.

This was a wonderfully beautiful, long-lasting snowstorm that I was delighted to enjoy with the birds that share our land and home with us.

Cletus and Spartacus, on the other hand, the ones who usually are first out the door? That was not on their agenda today.

It’s a snow day, Mommy – Photo: L. Weikel

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Flexible Hips – Day 655

Posted on August 28, 2020August 28, 2020 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Spread Eagle Pose – Makes me laugh every time – Photo: L. Weikel

Flexible Hips

I’ve been especially patient with the squirrels this year. I’m not sure why. But the fact that they don’t seem to be gnawing their way into our house or garage, and don’t seem to be cozying up in our cars and eating the wires are all points in their favor. There’s at least one, though, in the little family that’s taken up residence in – I believe – our shagbark hickory tree that has preternaturally flexible hips.

Weird, right? It’s probably more weird that I actually noticed and am writing a post on my observation than the fact that the little one has a very odd way of holding itself when it ‘rests.’

Clearly feels threatened by Spartacus (not) – Photo: L. Weikel

Personality or Comfort?

I’ve found myself wondering about this lately, though. Is it a tendency of all squirrels to splay their hips the way this one does? I don’t think it is, but I’ve been hard put to keep close enough tabs on them all to discern whether it’s only the one that hunkers down in that special way.

It looks like quite a comfortable stance. Then again, this may be the member of this family that prefers to just chill out.

It’s especially tough to keep track when they’re all hanging out and acting squirrelly at the same time. And by ‘all’ I mean the four main ones, which I believe are a mommy, daddy, and two babies, or just a mommy and three babies. But I have to admit: there are two in particular that engage in the classic adorable squirrel behavior of chasing each other round and round and round the maples, then up and down and then scurry across the branches, leaping into the magnolia then taking a couple hops and skips onto the hickory.

Today the little jerks were particularly adorable. Ugh; I hate thinking about them with affection because they can do a lot of damage. They were really into the chasing game this afternoon, and I swear they were acting just like two little kids. While they may not have been laughing, they sure were talking up a storm at each other, chittering and chattering, and I swear almost taunting each other.

I know I shouldn’t be encouraging them to live so close by. And my provision of readily available peanuts is a major culprit in all of this. But it’s not as if I can only provide the legumes to the blue jays, fish crows, nuthatches, and various woodpeckers that frequent our feeders. I’m not going to discriminate!

Just chillin’ in the cool grass – Photo: L. Weikel

Let Me Know

So if any of you are avid squirrel watchers or are particularly gifted with knowledge of squirrel anatomy or behavior, please let me know. Is this little Yoga Rocky uniquely gifted with flexible hips, just weird, or not weird at all – and I’m the weird one for thinking its behavior is odd?

All I can tell you is that s/he makes me laugh every time I see it hunker down this way.

It’s life little things.

Oops – Photo: L. Weikel

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Peanut Gallery – Day 592

Posted on June 26, 2020June 26, 2020 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

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

Peanut Gallery

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.

Grackles cracking open peanuts on the driveway – Photo: L. Weikel

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Pollen Fog – Day 557

Posted on May 22, 2020May 22, 2020 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Goldfinches? Or are they chickadees covered in pollen? – Photo: L. Weikel

Pollen Fog

Oh my. The trees are in full bloom here and the chartreuse layer of tree sperm covering absolutely everything outside, especially the glass top tables on my porch, is putting me in a pollen fog.

And the weirdest thing is, I’m (luckily and gratefully) not experiencing too terrible of allergy symptoms. That’s to say, my sinuses are ok so far, my nose is only running a little, and my throat doesn’t hurt.

But I have to say, my appetite is insatiable, and it’s making me nuts. Eat nuts, that is. I really don’t think it’s simply the stress of the pandemic, either. I’ve blamed that for a variety of oral fixations, including an uncontrollable tendency to eat more peanuts in a sitting than I cram into the ‘peanut coil’ I use to dispense legumes to my feathered friends.

Indeed, I was really controlling myself and my peanut fixation after I ate too many and lamented about it in a post. I was doing really well until, well, just tonight. <<sigh>>

Sad Start to Second Half

I don’t know what came over me. I was sitting here with the tv turned off, the sound of the whole house fan thrumming the air and drawing in some major cool breezes that just taunt me into wanting to crawl under the covers and go to bed.

Instead, I was sitting here trying to think of something new or different that I could write about, even though I could feel myself succumbing to the land of heavy eyelids. So what did I do? I caved. I mowed through a bunch of peanuts. I finished up a half pint of Owowcow Cashew Carmel ice cream. I even broke into a Salted Almond chocolate bar for good measure.

Goddess help me.

New Moon

It’s as if I made it halfway through my 1111 Devotion and I’m suddenly dropping the ball and coming up dry again.

Tomorrow is a new moon. As I’ve encouraged a million times over, it’s yet another opportunity to start fresh, plant new seeds, take up a new charge within our lives.

I’m going to once again step away from the peanuts and get myself up to bed. I have lots of things I actually would love to write and chat with all of you about.

Perhaps tomorrow will be a better day. I hope it is for all of us. No matter how super fantastic a day you may have had today, I hope tomorrow is even better.

Plant those seeds. Be careful out there. Don’t risk being a silent spreader: wear a mask. Maybe it’ll even help with the pollen!

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Lost Cause – Day 535

Posted on April 30, 2020 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Waxing April Moon – Photo: L. Weikel

Lost Cause

Well, today was a lost cause. All I did was run around and feel thwarted at almost every turn.

We’ve all had days like this. You know…when nothing turns out the way you intended? When everything you attempt to do ends up not only not happening but turning into its own pile of mess?

I Should’ve Known

Sometimes you don’t need to pick a card to get a handle on how your day is going to unfold. Like when you step in a puddle of kitty barf as you head to the bathroom first thing in the morning. Not a good sign.

Or when you realize that the kitty barf is actually something that they were repeatedly trying to evacuate from their bodies in small, half dollar size puddles of saliva spread out in eerily perfect distances that mimic a footstep. Yes. So when you realize you’ve stepped in something wet and instinctively yet simultaneously recoil and lunge to put your weight on the other foot, you find that foot landing in a puddle of feline gastric-juicy wetness of its own.

I should’ve known, really.

Just One Of Those Days

Hey, I know. I’m sure many people feeling ill or working themselves to the bone caring for the sick, or the people called upon to stock our grocery stores and deal with our cranky, often selfish, asses would love to have the luxury of my lamentations.

Alas, we all have our crosses to bear. I’m in the midst of sorting out feelings that I’ll almost inevitably share here sooner or later. But until I do, I’ll probably persist in making the mistake of hitting up the cache of peanuts I stockpiled for the blue jays and fish crows.

Case in point: Tonight I made the mistake of ‘catching up’ on the news I’d deliberately not followed all day (you know, as I was agitated enough by other stuff going on in my life). Aided by the anonymity and deniability provided by Karl being asleep on the couch, I surreptitiously retrieved a fresh bag of peanuts from our ‘pandemic stash,’ having refilled the peanut feeder before we took a walk this evening. I knew I shouldn’t break it open. I knew it.. Especially after the crappy day I’d had today.

But I did. I planted myself in front of the tv and binged, mindlessly cracking open the shells and plopping the contents into my mouth. The only bright spot is that I think I may have cured myself of my recent peanut addiction because now I feel as decidedly barfy as the cat must have this morning.

Oh brother. And speak of the devil. Right on cue, Tigger just heaved. I kid you not. Crouched underneath the dining room table strategically positioned such that he’s unreachable, I’m subjected to the universally distinct sound of a cat working something up and out. Good grief; what a day.

Time for bed. Some days are a lost cause. Hopefully, tomorrow will not only be a better day, but also a better post.

“I don’t think I feel right, Mommy” – Photo: L. Weikel

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Checking In – Day 523

Posted on April 18, 2020 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

One of my many vices – Photo: L. Weikel

Checking In

Rain is pattering down outside and I’m sitting here listening to it. This Friday night is cold, wet, and can be pretty fairly characterized as miserable. So I’m checking in, wondering how you’re all managing to negotiate the temptations of too much…well, too much of anything.

You name it. If you’re like me, you can over-indulge in any number of vices. Netflix, chocolate, roasted peanuts. You name it.

Yeah, I just ticked off my latest ‘big three.’

Oh my goodness. What is it with these peanuts? All of a sudden, I am absolutely held hostage by the irresistible urge to eat them mindlessly, one after another, seemingly powerless to stop. Time after time, I promise myself that this is the last handful I’m going to take from the bag – the bag I bought to feed my blue jays and fish crows, if I’m honest.

As Bad As Sheila

I’m not the only one succumbing to temptation and indulgence in this household.

Sheila has been particularly egregious in her flaunting of the social norms established in our household over the past 15 years.

No eating cat poop. That’s a pretty hard and fast rule. Well, poop of any kind, but cat poop is usually the most frequently encountered fecal fast food in Sheila and Spartacus’s pantry.

I don’t know what has gotten into Sheila lately, but she’s been veritably defiant. Honestly, I think it’s her blindness. If she can’t see us, she thinks we can’t see her? Or is it her deafness. I screetched when I caught her foursquare in the cat box this morning – and she didn’t even flinch.

Ugh. I was so angry. She knows better.

And yet she just snuffled in my general direction when I picked her up and did not exude the least bit of remorse. And she used to feel bad about being a bad girl! (Then again, so did I.)

Exiting the snack bar, oblivious to being discovered – Photo: L. Weikel

Stress Eating

All of which brings me back round again to the topic of stress eating. Man, I am struggling with this. I think the key for me is not having it around. And I wouldn’t, but for the fact that, because of this coronavirus pandemic, I do not have the luxury of running out to the store to buy stuff only when I need it.

Case in point: the peanuts I give to my blue jays, fish crows, and – albeit begrudgingly – the squirrels. Because I find myself buying a couple bags of peanuts when I go to the store, I have access to them. I can’t just fill all the feeder/dispensers. No. There’s always some left over; a bag half empty. And if I make the mistake of cracking open just one beautiful nut perfectly along its seam, exposing the precious insides, encased in their natural tissue paper wrapping, I inevitably find I am helpless to resist. I pop the delicious morsels into my mouth and am compelled to reach for the next perfect crack-and-reveal. And then the next…

Even Though I Know I Shouldn’t

So I find myself feeling some compassion for Sheila. She’s old. She can still navigate her way to the cat box and snuffle out the occasional treat. She’s been sneaking them for years – and is simply less adept at snagging them undetected anymore. Given that we close the door to the bathroom (most of the way – not entirely; the cats can’t open the door on their own) in order to deter the old coot, the mere fact that she can blindly negotiate her way into the bathroom at all is a coup that merits the reward.

I don’t know that I exhibit talent even remotely on the same par as Sheila in tracking down my peanuts. But I do know they’re probably as (not) good for me as the crusted snacks she snags for herself.

Judging from her expression, though, I’d say she clearly feels they’re worth my displeasure. Or at the very least, she feels zero remorse. UGH.

Cat litter snout – Photo: L. Weikel

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Binge-Eating – Day 441

Posted on January 27, 2020 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

The evidence – Photo: L. Weikel

Binge-Eating

You caught me.

I don’t know what’s come over me as I sit here trying to think of something to write this evening. But yikes, it’s not pretty.

I’ve been sitting here on my couch, contemplating the thoughts parading through my head, writing a sentence here and a paragraph there. Then deleting them, one after another.

I’ve written about Kobe Bryant and his daughter, Gianna. I’ve written about a crucial fact that we all live with, but barely any of us acknowledge truthfully and head on: in spite of our best laid plans, it can all be over in the blink of an eye.

I’ve been sitting here thinking about Kobe’s wife and other daughters. How when they woke up this morning, none of them knew their lives would be changed irrevocably, forever.

True For All of Us

But let’s face it: that’s true for all of us. At any moment, everything could change for any one of us – or for all of us, for that matter.

And yes, many of us have already experienced nightmarish events in which everything has changed in the blink of an eye. But that fact doesn’t make it any easier to witness it happening to someone else. Just because I’ve felt the horror of receiving the phone call we all dread doesn’t mean I’d wish it on anyone else.

Indeed, it makes me grieve all the more for the survivors. It makes me think of the families of the people who were killed on that Ukrainian airliner that was shot down a few weeks ago. Those people have to deal with the utter senselessness of that tragedy.

It makes me wonder what we’re going to witness when our greatest hopes are challenged by our worst fears later this week, when weak-willed people potentially fail to heed the call of our future ancestors to do what’s right instead of what’s politically expedient for their own selfish ends.

So I Binge

I hold out hope that those representing us in Washington will seize this time of the new moon and think beyond themselves, beyond their fears of getting primaried, beyond their fear of being bullied and ridiculed by the least among us (who also happen to hold the most power at the moment).

And since I can only hold fast to my hope that the people who’ve been elected to the Senate have a deep and abiding love for our system and for the solemn responsibility they hold to all of us, I embody that hope by imagining them digging deep and holding strong to our collective core values.

I hold that vision. That, and binge-eat peanuts.

I don’t know about you, but I consider peanuts in the shell to be terribly addictive. Worse than potato chips.

And so I pound them down. (I should never succumb to that first one. Therein lies the key.)

Eating. It’s such an essential aspect of life and living; an affirmation that we’re still here. And as long as we’re here, we must hold fast to our hope. For ourselves and for each other.

New Moon and Venus – Photo: L. Weikel

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Catbird Come Calling – Day 228

Posted on June 28, 2019September 12, 2020 by Lisa Weikel Leave a comment

Photo: Brian E. Small/VIREO

Catbird Come Calling

I have been puzzling over something for about a week. I’ve been bringing in the birdfeeders at night, hoping to thwart whatever critter or critters have been raiding them in the dead of night. I have a strong suspicion it’s been a cabal of deer who’ve adapted wily tongues that can suck seeds out of feeders like they’re Pez dispensers and an unholy alliance between raccoons and opossums raiding the peanuts I’ve put out for the blue jays, crows, and woodpeckers (among others).

When I’ve gone outside to retrieve the feeders, it’s usually been after I’ve ‘done and dusted’ my post for the evening – so it’s around 1:00 a.m.

Post-Midnight Serenade

For the past several nights – at least three – I’ve been amazed to hear a bird singing quite distinctly in the darkness. I’ve been intrigued! I’ve even attempted to record it with my phone, with only a slight degree of success. Enough for me to at least be able to hear it and – yes – when replaying it for Karl today, I realized I recognized its voice.

But I must admit, until today, I never knew catbirds sing at night. Until, that is, I confirmed it via Mr. Google.

This is the first year we’ve had a number of catbirds hanging around our feeders. And the reason they are is because they are attracted to the fancy feeder my sister-in-law gave us from Wild Birds Unlimited. It’s also the feeder that I think the raccoons and opossums are particularly infatuated with! (Although they do seem to like the peanut coil, too…)