wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.

Monthly Archives: March 2019


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Trouble Down the Road

Hey, Emma. Will ya look at the goings on over there?

This may be my third helping of hors d’oevres today, but I’ve had to work hard for them.

Getting right into it for the tastiest morsels.

What do you mean, I should stop? I’ve found a treasure trove.

 

Oh Lordy, Lordy! I see what you mean, Ruby. I don’t think he should be doing that. This will not end well. We’d never allow that at OUR house. Not with us backyard supervisors on duty.

 

***

This is not my house and I had to use the zoom for a very long distance when I found the source of the pecking noise, so the flicker is blurry (I had hoped to see him in a tree). I will be on the watch for this guy in case he flies over our way though. Thank goodness our backyard supervisors do a pretty good job of watching for trouble.


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Shorebirds

Down at our local beach the other morning, these godwits were pecking in the soft shore mud. They look similar to sandpipers, but the speckled feathers and the slightly upward curve of the extra long bill say “godwit.”

The long bills are designed to probe the mud and sand for worms, molluscs, and all sorts of aquatic life.

There are several subspecies of godwits. I think these are marbled godwits.  I’m not a bird expert, so if anyone can provide more info, I’m happy to hear it.

There is nothing religious about the name “godwit.” Supposedly, the bird was named for the sound it makes.

Did you know that godwits can sleep standing up?

They tuck their head behind the shoulder and stand on one leg and have a little nap.  Sometimes I feel tired enough to sleep standing up.  I understand resting my head, but standing on one leg? That’s asking for trouble.

There are many more kinds of shorebirds that look like these. It is a whole science in itself to learn to identify them. I heard one of the godwits talking:

***

I love to dabble on the beach,

Poke at worms within my reach,

A tiny shrimp, a mini clam.

I am a godwit, yes I am.

*

 I stand on one leg for a nap,

I tell my friends, “Give me a tap.”

I’ll rest my head upon my shoulder.

Being with friends will make me bolder.

*

Then off we go to wade some more

All along the briny shore.

It’s a right fine restaurant,

Serving all the food I want.

*

Do come see me on the beach,

Don’t mind if I keep out of reach.

It’s safer for me keeping clear,

But visiting will bring us cheer.

 


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Something Fishy

There’s something fishy going on in my house these days. After making a set of eight “fishy” placemats, I felt encouraged by what I learned from the many mistakes I had made.  I decided to try two more, and fix the problems I had before.

I made two major changes.

One:

I cut out the all the pieces and had them ready to place. I ironed “Heat and Bond” on all of them and had them ready to iron onto the background, building the scene with all the characters present at once. In my trial runs, I had done the pieces of fish, rocks, and seaweed, one  at a time. It was so much easier to have all the pieces ready to put into the scene at once.

Two:

I set my stitch smaller for the applique part where I sewed around the edges of each piece, and matched the thread to the individual pieces rather than using one colour for everything. It’s hard to see the scales on the light blue fish (or any of the others) but if you can enlarge the photo you can see them.


The backing is the same on both.


Take care when using placemats

That have a fishy scene,

The big black grinner prowls around

But tries to look serene.

*

Beware the Dark Invader

Who lurks by every meal,

He has a constant hunger

Yet nothing does appeal.

*

The blue fish is too pretty,

The salmon are too fast,

The tiny little tropicals

Don’t make a meal to last.

*

The starfish are too crunchy,

Their skin is rough and tough,

And all the meat inside them

Is made of gooey stuff.

*

So Darky’s on the lookout 

For tourists diving here

He’d gladly nibble on their toes

Or on their scuba gear.

*

Their underwater camera 

Would fall right from their hands

And Darky could then pick it up

And make his own demands.

*

He’d slip along the hotel pool

Straight to the swim up bar

He’d swap that camera for a drink

And watch them from afar.

*

The fun he’d have inside this place,

The shocking looks he’d get,

He’d frighten daylights out of them

Although he’s just a pet.

*

So when you use the Darky mats

And eat your fancy food,

Be sure to drop some crumbs for him

To maintain his good mood.

***


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The Murderer

  • Note: For those of you who are followers of my other post “annelisplace,” please excuse the duplication. If you like to read about books, authors, and writing, you may want to follow that blog as well as this one.
  • Also, if you are a writer and would like to post something on my annelisplace blog, please let me know and I’d be happy to host you there.

 

On Marlie’s first day of moving onto the Queen Charlotte Islands, her car has a flat tire. All her belongings are stuffed in the trunk on top of the tire changing equipment. Once removed, they don’t fit back into the trunk, but a passing islander stops to help change her tire and as the sky opens and rain threatens to soak everything, he offers to bring the excess belongings to Masset for her.

Here is the scene that follows (taken from the novel “Marlie”)

*****

“Okay, you go sit in the car and I’ll take care of the rest.” When she nodded, Brent grabbed a few things from the roadside and walked to the back of his truck. She was right behind him with an armful of odds and ends.

Brent opened the canopy door and as she shrieked, he whirled around. “Oh my God! You killer!” Her face was contorted into a mask of horror.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You murderer! How could you kill that sweet little thing? Give me my stuff.” She tried to grab the bags from his hand but dropped what she was carrying. They both bent to pick the things up and bumped heads.

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Brent stared at her in disbelief. The popstar image was fading fast and she was looking more like one of those angry protestors he’d seen on TV.

Her hazel eyes were huge as she glared at him. “You killed that helpless animal.”

“Yeah, I shot a deer. So what? I eat venison.”

“Is that even legal?”

“Lady, what planet did you beam down from? Of course it’s legal. Everybody eats venison here.”

“Not everyone! Not me!” She picked up her things and stomped back to her car but there was no place to put anything. She threw him a disgusted look, frowned, shook her head. She opened the back door and punched and pushed and shoved her belongings, desperate to cram her things into the Corolla’s back seat. No room. She squeezed out a growl of frustration, and looked back at Brent again. Her shoulders sagged and that’s when the tears came.

He blew out a long breath. “Look. Nothing is going to happen to your stuff in the back of my truck. The deer won’t do anything to it. You don’t even have to think about it being there. We’ll load up and you can follow me to Masset.” He waited and she appeared to mull that over. It was taking too long. “Oh, piss on it. This was a mistake. I’m leaving. You can wait for another car to pull over to pack your stuff to Masset for you. I don’t need this shit.”

She wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist and sniffed. “No wait! Yes, okay. Would you please bring my stuff for me? I guess I have to trust that you won’t take off with my belongings.”

“Have to trust me?! Jeezus you’ve got some bloody nerve. What the hell would I want your stuff for?” Brent turned to get into the truck.

“Please.” She closed her eyes and pulled herself up straight. “I’m sorry. I do need your help. If you could take some of my things in your truck…. I do trust you.”

“This is the only road that goes up or down the island, so you won’t lose sight of your boxes.” What does she think I’d do with a bunch of ladies’ clothes? Christ! What a loonie! How did I get myself mixed up with this nutcase?

“Of course. You’re right.”

“Where in Masset are you headed?”

“The teachers’ trailer court,” she said.

He straightened up and inhaled a long slow breath through his nose. Oh man. One of those! “That explains a lot.”

Find MARLIE on amazon and smashwords.


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Underwater Quilting

No, I didn’t quilt these placemats underwater, but I felt like I was drowning in my work at times. Here are two finished and six not finished placemats I worked on while at the quilting retreat.

I wanted to make up the scenes as I went along, so no two placemats are the same. (The one below is finished except for the binding.)

However, you may notice a reappearance of the dark invader, my Darth Vader fish, in several of the placemats. His job is to see that you don’t eat too much at one sitting.

Miss Prissy Fishy below lets the others know that she has special protection from Darky. Who knows what favours she supplies?

So Darky concentrates on other unearthly looking fish for his supper.

And yet, he must wonder why he has no friends. Look at them scramble to get away.

“Miss Prissy Fishy,” says Pretty Boy, “why are you ignoring me?  See how talented I am. I can touch my toes. And anyway, don’t you know that good things come in small packages?”

“I heard that, Pretty Boy,” bubbles Darky, “but in the case of eat or be eaten, just remember that size matters. Oh dear, now look what I’ve done. I’ve upset Little Blue Wonderfish.”

Disclaimer via Darky: Not responsible for any fish swimming upside down.


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More “Whatever-they-are”s

A few years ago, I saw only brown llamas or alpacas in our neighbourhood. The other day as I drove down to the spit to take pictures of the seiners at the wharf, I passed the “llama place” and was surprised to see only one brown one.
I think this black one is new – at least “new” to me. Its buddies were of assorted colours.

I had to wonder though, if this brown one is one of the originals. They didn’t have name tags, and they wouldn’t answer when I asked. I guess it’s because they were busy eating.

This is their view. Pretty nice place to have lunch, on a little hillside by the sea. Life could be worse.

Alpaca or llama

Oh what a dilemma,

I wish I could tell,

But then, “Oh what the …heck.”


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What is it?

Certainly not native to Vancouver Island, these animals live just down the street from me on the island. As I drove past one day, I did a double take, thinking at first I was seeing grizzlies (also not native here) on the hillside. I apologize for the poor quality, as these were taken some years ago.

It turned out that they are … er … what? People in the neighbourhood have called them llamas (Spanish pronounciation – yamas), but they look more like alpacas to me. These two animal types are so closely related that I can’t tell one from the other. Alpacas are supposed to be smaller than llamas, but without one of each standing side by side, it is hard to make a comparison.

Llamas are said to have longer ears that point forward. These ears look quite small to me, but who knows?

I have read that alpacas (and, presumably, llamas) have bad reactions to many of the plants that are commonly found in our area, bracken fern, fireweed, and azaleas to name a few. The ones in these photos are unlikely to find much of anything that will disagree with them, as the pickings are pretty sparse on this rocky hillside.

If you’re ever not sure how to spell the name of these animals – lamas or llamas – think of the little poem by Ogden Nash:

The one-l lama,
He’s a priest.
The two-l llama,
He’s a beast.
And I will bet
A silk pajama
There isn’t any
Three-l lllama.

But I still don’t know how to tell the difference between a llama and an alpaca.

I yama gonna have to go sit on a rocky hillside and think about that. It could take me a while to figure out, so I think alpaca lunch.