PLUNDERED!! PILLAGED!!

 Bear's beloved Mountain Ash tree was stripped bare today by a marauding band of ravenous Bohemian Waxwings.

The foraging flock, numbering perhaps a hundred birds,

attacked the tree about 3:30 p.m. local time, 

wave, upon wave, upon wave. 
(Here is a close-up of one.)

By 3:45, only  a few scavengers could be seen,

cleaning up the few remaining berries on the ground.

The activity of the Bohemian Hoard had been reported 

in the local newspaper earlier. 

The onslaught was not unexpected.

J, our  Bear's  beloved spouse, quickly grabbed her camera, clicking photo after photo, mute witness to the onslaught. 

And where was Bear during the melee?

Hibernating in his Den. 

Proving once again that, "you snooze; you lose."

But he'll be delighted by the pictures when he wakes up. 

Very delighted.

After all, it was for events like today's that he planted 

the Mountain Ash in the first place. 

His simple goal — to attract Waxwings.

Report by Sadie B.; photography by J.B.

IN AUTUMN, A MAN'S MIND TURNS TO …

cleaning up the yard and getting ready for winter. Which I was doing this afternoon at our micro-holding. (For those of you who are not familiar, I think our property is really too small to fit the classic definition of a "small holding"; hence, it's a "micro-holding.")

When I work outside, Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, comes with me. First we play a bit. Then we light a fire, into which I can toss odds and ends of stuff that need to be removed and can be burned.

Then I get down to work. And Miss Sadie waits for me to be done with the work silliness, and come to play — which is the important thing to do outside.

When I need to take a break, we play.

There was a lot of brush to clean up at the back. I didn't take a picture of it, but you can see where the leaves are. That's where the brush was.

And there was some other stuff to clean up, too. Like garbage that blows in from the back lane. (The automated garbage pickup isn't always that thorough.)

It has to be bagged and returned to the garbage, along with bits of glass and metal which uncannily pop up to the surface of the earth from time to time. And I need to do something with Miss Sadie's "leavings" (otherwise called, by some, "doggy-doo").

Then, the wood pile. It was a mess. Now we've got it organized, and partly tarped. The one challenge is that there are mice living under there, somewhere. I only know about them because Miss Sadie keeps trying to find the mice, even climbing up on top of the wood pile.

Last job, cover the rose bush with fallen tree leaves, to protect it over the winter. (This was the first year since we transplanted it to our yard that it actually bloomed.)

We had beautiful magenta roses. I hope we get them again next year.

All in an afternoon's work. Or play (if you see it from Miss Sadie's perspective).

IN WHICH BEAR "OVERDOES" IT, AND SUFFERS THE CONSEQUENCES

Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, and the Bear are polar opposites, in some ways.

What we have in common is that we don't understand our own strength.

Miss Sadie, I think, underestimates hers. At four feet tall (or more, when standing on her back legs — something I really discourage), with 50 pounds of energy and enthusiasm, she really could knock you down. After which she would lick you to death.

Bear, on the other hand, overestimates his.

Case in point.

Yesterday was cool and breezy in the evening. We hadn't received any rain. (A day without rain is a "novel" experience this year; one is not quite sure how to handle that.) And as our front and back grass were both in need of cutting, Bear got out the lawnmower.

(You've probably guessed the rest already.)

The land on our "micro-holding" is not level, and is broken up by trees, and gardens, and other sorts of spaces and obstacles. So cutting the grass in a straight line really doesn't happen for more than a couple of metres/yards. One has to do a great deal of maneuvering around in the process of "mowing the hay." (And I have to carry the lawnmower part way from front to back because of the new stepping stones we put in this year.)

Anyhow, I did the mowing last night. And when I was finished, it looked quite good. I was happy with that. Plus, I got the grass cut before the next rain shower (scheduled for tonight). YES!!!

But after a bit, I wasn't feeling so good. I have an old injury in my back that I keep re-injuring. By bed time I was in quite a bit of pain. So I took some medication (fairly strong stuff, actually), and went to bed about 9:30. By then I was feeling extremely tired, and a bit dopey from the medication.

I slept through the night (something I rarely do), and woke up at 7:00 this morning, not quite sure who or where I was. I was able to look after Her Sadieship and get my own breakfast. Then I thought I would lie down and have a rest.

I woke up at 11:30. It is now just after noon. The effect of the medication has worn off — meaning that I'm not dopey, but in pain. I'm going to make lunch and try to figure out what to do next. Miss Sadie needs to be walked. I need to do some shopping. There are parts of the yard which need to be trimmed, weeded, and otherwise tidied up. I have several books I want to read. Currently is it 26°C (that's 79F), too hot a day for Bear's liking.

— — —

Footnote: We did indeed go shopping, but not as expected. We went to our favourite bakery (where we haven't been for a while), and picked up some things. They're baking a lot of different things there now — major focus on Italian — so we picked up some goods as an experiment. What we've tried thusfar has been really good.

After lunch, J and I talked for a while, and I finally took Sadie for a walk. It's 27°C (81F) outside, but with the humidity feels like 33C (91F). We're going to stay inside, and stay cool (er).

WHAT'S A BEAR TO DO? (3)

Subtitle: "In which Bear and J work several hours in the garden, and accomplish some improvements."

Ah, yes; this IS starting to look better.

WHAT'S A BEAR TO DO? (2)

OK, let's review.

The garden was a mess!

So Bear "took the bull by the tail" and got working on it. 

Soon, it wasn't looking too bad.

But there's something here that' not quite right. There's a certain «je ne sais quoi» feeling about it. I seems somehow incomplete. 

Think. Think. Think. (Think like a puzzled Winnie the Pooh.)

Think. Think. Think.

Well, if it were a picture, I could show it off a bit better by putting it in a nice frame.

Wait — that's it. Put something around it. Like, . . . like, . . . like — a border. Yes! That's it. A border!

Say, this is looking better.

And we're done! 

Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie has been supervising this all the way along. 

Now, she's allowing her picture to be taken alongside the completed project.

Allowing her picture to be taken in this manner is Her Ladyship's supervisory "seal of approval" that the work has been "completed to the highest standards." 

(When her Ladyship isn't looking, Bear rolls his eyes.)

So, the task is complete!

Now, all that's left is

the

back

 yard.

Oh, my!  

HELP!!!!!!!!!

SLUSH AND STUFF

First, the hangover got much, much worse.

Then, the walk beside our house turned into an ice track. Ideal for Bobsleigh, Luge, or Skeleton — except the Olympics are over.

Then the ice started to melt — thanks to warmer weather and a well-place application of salt and grit.

I've been able to do some chopping as well (after a few days of dodgy health). Now, it's almost safe to walk beside the house. Miss Sadie and I have done it a couple of times, without incident.

In a few days, I expect the path will be clear.

And by then, our very muddy back yard will appear, and I'll start thinking of building Miss Sadie her own private race track, so she isn't bringing half the back yard into the house, four paws-full at a time.

Ah, well.

Hope your spring it turning out nicely at this point.

What's happening in your corner of the world as spring emerges?

PUPPIES LIVING DANGEROUSLY

While the puppies, Nuala and Sadie, are wonderful creatures of God, they sometimes place themselves in dangerous situations. Which is why we need to keep a sharp eye out for them.

1. They're puppies, sisters, and they love to tussle and chase each other -- particularly outside. Which is good. They burn off lots of energy, and have healthy exercise.

Notice condition of garden pp (as in "post-puppy")

That becomes a problem when the temperature hits 32°C (or 89°F), which it is today. With their nice fur coats, they get very hot, very quickly, And could very quickly get sick.

The solution? Set the kitchen timer for 15 minutes, and make sure they come in every 15 minutes. First, they head to the basement -- the coolest part of the house. Then, they each have a big drink.


After that, flop down on the basement floor (cement covered with vinyl).


But that bring us to the second problem.

2. While the pups like to lie on the cold basement floor and snooze, they do so right in the main passage through the basement. Which substantially increases their chances of being stepped on or tripped over. And if that happens, they tend to complain fairly loudly. Even though they are, in part, "the authors of their own misfortune" (or something like that -- the lawyers among us will have the correct expression). But try explaining that concept to three-month-old puppies.

3. Then there's the garden (as seen above). We did our fall cleanup early this year. Truth be told, there wasn't much to clean up, as the puppies had flattened almost everything. Fortunately, most of it should come back this year.

That however could be a problem. Momma bear was checking on some things, and found that many of the plants we love are poisonous to our puppies! So, what to do? Should we go to container gardening (as friend "Pondside" has shown in her blog http://pondside1741.blogspot.com/2009/09/contained.html )? Should we put everything into grass? At least we have the winter to think about it.

In the meantime, I'm sure we'll find other ways in which we have to protect the puppies from themselves.

PUPPY UPDADTE

It's been about a week and a half since Nuala and Sadie arrived at our place. And it has been a busy time. The biggest challenge has been to work out with them their eat-sleep-play-potty cycle. They've been pretty good at teaching us; we still have a few "accidents," but not many.

They still don't know how to relax in each other's company. The minute they are together, they're "roughing around." As in "play fighting." Which is why we can't all be together as often as we want. I trust they'll get over that stage.

Our next door neighbour saw Sadie again yesterday, the first time since their introduction. C. was saying how much Sadie had grown. We don't notice the growth that much, because we see them all the time. (But I remember our daughter-in-law's dog, and how much it grew from week to week.) In that regard, Sadie is certainly heavier than Nuala, and I'm sure she has gained weight. At this point, Nuala is slightly taller than Sadie.

They both like to sleep (often on our beds). They like to play with their toys -- both inside and outside. We have a natural amphitheatre at the far end of the back of the year (where our lot slopes down towards the river). While they like to run up and down the hills, they often roll down -- simply because they're still not all that steady on their little legs.

One other thing. They really like to help in the garden.

But perhaps "help" isn't exactly the word I'm seeking.

I'll have more in due course.

Oh, you're wondering how we are doing? Exhausted!
√

MATERNITY WARD REDUX

Actually, the dux are down at the river, and I've been too busy fixing house to pay any attention to them. There are also about a bazillion Canada Geese all along the river -- and on the sand bars in the river. We'll be sending them down to visit you Americans in a few months. (As I mentioned elsewhere, its part of the Free Trade Deal we have with you Americans.)

The surprise -- the arrival of some baby Cedar Waxwings. (I think they are really beautiful birds; you judge for yourselves from the picture.) We have tried to encourage them by planting a Mountain Ash tree in our yard; they really like Mountain Ash berries. This is the first year in seven or eight that we've seen adults around in the summer. (A couple of winters ago, a flock flew in and stripped all the berries off the tree in about 15 minutes flat.) But no, this is summer, and only a pair. But they still like our tree.

I was working outside this evening, and behold -- waxwing parents with waxwing babies! I think they must have nested in a tree in the next-door neighbour's yard. So you know how much work I accomplished tonight. (This Bear is REALLY for the birds -- but you already knew that.)

So, some summer excitement after all! And I even get to share it with you!

EMPTY MATERNITY WARD SYNDROME.

The Maternity ward is empty. We last saw the adult Red-breasted Nuthatches on Monday night, when we were out cutting the grass, and working in the yard. The parents were quite alarmed by our presence. I thought at the time it might have been the lawnmower (noisy beast that it is). But it could have been that some or all of the babies were out of the nest, and the parents were telling them to stay very still.

Since we hadn't seen the parents for a couple of days, I checked the next tonight. Just below the opening I could see a cobweb -- sign that nobody has been into the nest for a day or two. I couldn't see into the bottom of the nest, but my conclusion was that they had gone. Gone without as much as a cheery good-bye. Parents might abandon eggs, but not live babies. Besides, according to my calculations, it was time for the babies to be fledged and ready to go. I'm just sorry that they didn't hang around so we could see them.

Maybe next time.

IN THE GARDEN

The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.
√√√√√√√√~ Dorothy Frances Gurney, "Garden Thoughts"

Well, that's very nice, but our garden is chock full of weeds. Not the invasive kinds which seem to surround Rosaria (like Gorse and Scottish Broom). This is just a whole lot of plants which are growing in places we don't want them. Like, in our garden.

Actually, some of them were gifts from gardening friends, the nature of which we did not understand when we received them.

Indeed, as Voltaire observed in his Candide, «Il faut cultiver notre jardain.» "We must cultivate our garden," not just let it sit.

I'm reminded of a story of an old farmer who left an acre of land to the Devil in his will. Probate Court, unable to interpret this clause, called upon another old farmer in the area, and a friend of the deceased. Could he help the court with this particular item in the will.

"That's easy sonny," replied the farmer to the judge. "Just leave it alone, and it'll got to the Devil all by itself."

Which is what happened to our garden last summer. We had a fire in our house in June; it was September before we got back into the house, and started re-organizing. In the meantime, the yard was full of workmen and their materials. Garden in the midst of that? Not a chance!

The summer before wasn't great for gardening, either. But that's another story.

So I decided this year, healthy or not, I was going to do something in the garden.

It took an hour and a half to clean out about one square yard of one flower bed this evening. It was that badly overgrown.

Further back in the yard, it took only a few minutes to rake and edge a patch which is filling up nicely with ferns. The only problem is that the ferns are overwhelming the little spruce tree which we planted there before the ferns. The tree will have to move. But where?

After that, I spent about an hour watering -- as in moving the hose and sprinkler from one place to another. And that covered only about half the total garden space.

So I look at it this way: I'll have lots to do for a lot of evenings this summer. Until the mosquitos chase me inside.

Inch by inch, row by row
Gonna make this garden grow
All it takes is a rake and a hoe
And a piece of fertile ground.
√√√√~ words and music by Dave Mellett (sung by John Denver)

DEATH IN THE "MATERNITY WARD"

As I mentiond earlier, I was going to "paw" in the garden for a while this morning -- a normal spring time thing to do.

One of the first things I discovered outside was a dead Robin, close to our 24 hour self-serve food and water bird restaurant. I checked it out -- I was pretty sure it was Mrs. Robin. There were no signs that it had hit our building; there were no signs that it had been attacked by a cat or something like that. I set her beside the little St. Francis statue in our yard, only a foot or so from where I found her. I went and checked the nest. There was nobody on it -- but inside there were three beautiful little eggs -- all "Robin's egg blue." I estimate they are about a week from hatching, given the past activities of the mother.

I talked to several people people at our University's Veterinary College (where they do quite bit of work with birds). We decided that I should bring Mrs. Robin in for an autopsy, to make sure that it wasn't some bird disease that had killed her. We don't want any more strange infections floating around. I'll eventually get a report on her death. As for the eggs, there was nothing they could do.

We had some other things to do, but came back in the late afternoon. We checked in the back yard, and there was another Robin - sitting on the fence, looking up at the nest. It finally flew up to the nest. It didn't get on the nest -- it just stood there --looking at the eggs and looking around, and around, and then back at the eggs. I was pretty sure it was Mr. Robin. I had to do something on the other side of the yard, and when I got to the far end, he rose up as if to challenge me, thought he never said a thing, and I don't go over. Eventually he left.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the garden, the Nuthatches are carrying on, as usual, apparently unaware of the tragedy at the other end of the Maternity Ward.

P.S.: I just got a brief phone report from the pathology lab. There are signs of an infection in her, but it not the kind of thing which should have killed her. There were a few extra questions for me about the circumstances under which I found her. I'll get a fuller report when the pathologists are finished doing their work.

While I was on the phone, Mr. Robin came back and checked everything again very thoroughly, before leaving again.

--------

I wonder how birds mourn and grieve.

UH-OH; I'VE BEEN MEMED (I THINK)

If a meme is a set of questions, that arrives when you're not expecting it, and you're not sure what to do with it (other than answer the questions which have been asked and send them along), is that a meme? If it is, I've been memed.

We Bears are not entirely certain about this human internut stuff (except that it sometimes drives us crazy). Some of you internut specialist can help with this, I'm sure. You are, after all, very kindly and supportive creatures of God. (Well, most of you.) Have I been memed?

In the meantime, while I'm trying to sort out the existential ramifications of this conundrum, I need to go dig (I mean "paw") up some of the garden. Bears' claws are great for doing that kind of work. Bears' backs, on the other "hand". . . .

"IN THE FAMILY WAY" (2)

While we've been watching the birds in our yard, we've noticed a pair of Robins hanging around a tree at the far end of our yard. Today, I wandered next door into the neighbour's yard, and guess what. All it took was a couple of glances to see Mrs. Robin sitting on a nest.

So, I guess our back yard has turned into a maternity ward!

The good news is that Robins and Nuthatches like different food -- so there's been no fighting.

For the picture of the American Robin, look in the sidebar, just below the "thousand word" picture.

P.S.: It snowed again yesterday. Fortunately, the snow was followed by rain, so all the white stuff is gone. And we're supposed to get more snow. "Snow yesterday, snow tomorrow, no snow today." (Or is that supposed to be "jam" instead of "snow"?) We bears can be so forgetful.

GRAY SKIES ARE GONNA' CLEAR UP -- MAYBE

Today is May 8th. In just over six weeks, summer will arrive (officially) in the Northern Hemisphere.

And today it is SNOWING right outside the Bear's cave!

Well, so much for the garden.

I knew I came out of hibernation waaaay to soon this year. @%$#*^

Merry Christmas, everyone.

"IN THE FAMILY WAY"

Yes, it's true!.

No, it's not the Bear and G3 -- we're a bit ancient for that. Not our kids, either.

It's a pair of Red-breasted Nuthatches. They have hollowed out a nesting cavity in our apple tree, which is about a yard (or a metre) from the back corner of our house. (That's were the bird baths and feeders are located.)

About Red-breasted Nuthatches.

First, there's a picture in the sidebar. Normally about 4.5 inches long -- not a big bird, but feisty!

The nest is about 5 feet above the ground, and the outside is being lined with pitch, to keep predators away. If there are eggs in the nest (usually 4 - 7), they should hatch in about 12 to 14 days from now (which is when we'll see the parents carrying food to the nest). They like seeds from coniferous trees (we have several big spruces in our area, with cones all over the ground), but they also love sunflower seeds (which is what we stock in our feeder).

We'll keep you "abreast" of developments.

NEWS BULLETIN: THE INVASION HAS BEGUN

We interrupt our regular programing for this special news bulletin.

The pathfinders having done their work, the full-scale invasion of the Dark-eyed Juncos began at dawn in the Bear's back yard.

Early reports indicated that the first wave was led by a raiding party of four.

Four other Juncos followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the grass and leaves,
And scrambling to the shore (of the bird bath).*

We'll have further reports as they become available. Now back to our regular programming.


*With apologies to Charles Dodgson (aka Lewis Carroll). See Junco picture in side-bar.

FOR THE BIRDS

Now that the front yard is done more or less done, it's time to switch to the real action -- the back yard. (The vines at the front will need a bit of trimming, but that will take about five minutes, because most of it was looked after last fall.)

The back yard has two major functions. My Celtic Grove is back there -- a place built for reading and meditation. (When I figure out how to put pictures in my posts, I'll send some along.)

The second function is to provide a place of food, water and sanctuary for birds of all types (more or less).

Usually the Dark-Eyed Juncos are the first to arrive in the spring. But so far, we've seen only one; strange there haven't been more. Not only that, our first Robin of the season arrived a week ahead of the Junco.

Clarification about Robins. The Robin of Great Britain is about 5 inches long, with olive brown upper parts, and red face, throat and breast, with a white belly. The American Robin, a member of the Thrush family, is about 11 inches long, with a black head and throat (and a white eye ring), lighter black upper parts, and red which covers both breast and belly. While the American Robin was named after its British counterpart, that's were the similarity ends.

A particular male Robin has taken a liking to a yard, and is hanging out fairly regularly. The house across our back lane has a turret (really!) which provides "high ground" and a good view of the whole neighbourhood. In a week or so, I expect this chap will be sitting on the turret singing his heart out. And, bye and bye, there will be a female, gathering grass and mud, to build a nest in a more discreet location, and then -- well, you know.

In the meantime, we need to clean and re-mount the three nesting boxes we have. We have drippers (which supply drips of waters to our bird baths, thus keeping the water fresh) that have to be re-conected and tested. And rather than have cement walkways through the garden, we cover our walks with large bark chips -- so we'll need to get another bag or two of those.

Then we wait and see who shows up, and what starts growing, and try to get things tidied up before the mosquitos come and drive us inside. The only reason I can think anything good about mosquitos is that they provide excellent fed for may birds, as well as bats. (You see, I try to find a positive angle for everything -- well, almost.)

G3 has begun reorganizing the inside of the house, but that's going to have to wait for a few days. She's doing a presentation on helping families cope with dementia (particularly Alzheimer Disease) -- something on which she's been working for about 20 years. (I'm her technical assistant: I help set things up and operate the equipment.) Then we'll attend to the garden. And when the mosquitos get to bad, we'll work inside. There is a system!

And as I am slowly starting to feel a bit stronger, there may be other inventive things into which I can get myself.

I do hope you all have a wonderful spring (or autumn for those of you who live in Australia or thereabouts).

SHOPPING AND SPRING CLEANUP -- %^@[°›⁄

Well, the snow finally disappeared today, leaving behind a multitude of junk on our lawn -- bottles, cigarette buts, candy wrappers, cigarette packages, etc. Most, I think, are from the "customers" of our neighbours across the street. A far as we can tell (and by "we" I mean me and the other neighbours at this end of block), the folks across the street are dealing drugs. Aside from the garbage, we haven't really had any problem. In fact the father/grandfather/patriarch of the family and I have delightful chats we see each other on the street. Our City Councilor, however, is well aware of the situation, which may lead to some intervention on the part of the local constabulary. (Heavy on the MAY.) In the meantime, it's "Que shiraz, shiraz," as Wendy put it so delightfully.

Before I did that raking, thought, I had to pick up a few things at the grocery and some air filters for our forced air furnace. Which meant traveling to a multitude shops -- nobody has all the things you need in one place. I was gone for so long that G3 was beginning to be a bit concerned about what happened to me.

Anyhow, I got a bit of the front yard raked before my body gave out, and I lugged my "collection" to the big trash bin in the back lane. After that I came in, exhausted, and slept of about five hours (a common occurrence in many of my afternoons).

Perhaps in the next day or two I'll be able to finish raking the front lawn, and be able to turn my attention to the gardens (front and back) and my "Celtic Grove" -- my sanctuary space.

Hope spring is a joy for all of you, my mates. What are some of your favorite spring projects?

A DOG, A DOG; MY KINGDOM FOR A . . . WAIT A MINUTE! (6)

The day dawned clear and cool; the god (make that "dog" -- I can't even type this morning!) woke up rested and ready for action; the bear could bearly come to -- except there was a dog licking my face. That'll teach me to lie at the edge of the bed. YD is just tall enough to stand beside the bed and lick, lick, lick.

Good grief; a three-times-a-day walker, a gardening assistant, an animated door bell (that barks when strangers get close). These I can handle, more or less, A four-footed alarm clock? Um, well, . . .

He was sick in the night. For some utterly unfathomable reason, he likes to eat sticks. Some tooth-pick sized pieces got stuck in his stomach, and he regurgitated them. I thought I had cleaned up after him at 3:00 a.m., but I missed a spot. Anyhow, cleaning up was part of this morning's list of things to do.

The list included walking dog, feeding dog, working in the garden (to clean up a mess AND entertain the dog). Not to mention getting cleaned up myself (locked the dog out of the bathroom while having a shower this time), plus taking time to talk to G3. (Fancy that; talking to my wife!) Yeah, the dog really has taken over. But seeing as we have to go out, he's gone home for the afternoon.