wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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Listen to Your Parents

Folks, it’s me. Lincoln. Lincoln the delinquent, my mother used to call me. Remember me?

https://wordsfromanneli.com/2017/06/26/lincoln-the-delinquent/

I’m not such a delinquent anymore. I’ve learned to listen to my parents. But today, good grief, what did I see? A baby robin behaving just like I used to. Not listening to his parents. The young robin just sat right out in the open like he was advertising the most delicious crow’s breakfast.

And here he comes, the black marauder, his black beak sharpened for spearing shish kebabs of young robin. Oh I fear for the baby bird. I call over to the mother bird.

She doesn’t look too happy about her baby being so disobedient. “Come here!” she calls. “The crows will get you if you sit out in the open like that. Come here! Come here!”

Oh, I can tell she’s frantic and really annoyed at Junior. Just look at that scowl.

But Junior just sits there, saying, “I’m fine. See me sitting in the sunshine in the grass? I might even find a worm like I saw you doing. You worry too much. I’m fine!”

Oh, no! Here comes that murdering crow. I can hear him with that ugly raspy call, “Caw! Caw!” You’d think he’d just clear his throat and get a nicer voice to come out. I see the black shadow flying overhead. Oh, dear! Oh, dear. Oh, deardeardear! I can’t look. I just have to look away.

I should probably get out of sight myself.

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Oh, saints be praised. There’s Anneli, waving her arms like mad. The crow is gone. But Junior is still sitting there.

Ah, thank goodness, Anneli is going over to check on Junior. Maybe he’s hurt?

No. There he goes, flying away. Not hurt. Just bit of a dummy.


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First the Work and Then the Play

It’s that time of year again when the troller needs to be given a facelift and the whole nine yards of a spa treatment. The “spa” is a marine ways near Campbell River. After you make the nail-biting trip up the river a little way, you steer into a  passageway that has most likely been dredged out just to make sure you don’t hit bottom.

On either side of this passageway, are walkways heavily reinforced to hold the weight of a travel lift carrying a boat weighing many tons.

The Work:

Here is the travel lift that lifted the troller Eden Lake out of the water about ten days ago. While the boat sat on the parking lot, propped up on either side with braces, the Captain slaved to power wash the boat’s hull, and cooling pipes. He replaced the bars of zinc as they have been “eaten” by electrolysis. Fresh bars are put on each year to divert the electrolysis from destroying the metal cooling pipes and the propeller.

The top of the hull is sanded and repainted. The gum wood (trim and railings, etc.) is coated with Cetol. The bottom of the hull is painted with anti-fouling paint to make the wood unpalatable to any marine life that wants to make its home there.

When the boat is all clean and shiny, it’s ready to be put back in the water. The travel lift puts the belts under the boat and carries it back to the water. It drives along the two walkways until the boat is suspended over the water and then it is gradually lowered back down where it belongs.

And off it goes, all tiddled up.

The Play:

Sometimes the boat skippers hire help for this grueling work. Even women can do this job (rather well, I might add). If you want to read about a good-looking woman who found romance after working on a troller  — and no, I’m not talking about Yours Truly — why not download the free novel “The Wind Weeps”? If you enjoy it and would like to read the sequel, it would cost you a big $2.99 to buy Reckoning Tide.  The books are available on all amazon sites, as well as on smashwords.com (for those who have e-readers other than Kindle).  Why not give these books a try? You might like them a lot.

You can just click on the book covers at the side of this blog post to find out more about them.

Or go to my website: www.anneli-purchase.com


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Three’s a Crowd, or is it?

I’m not so sure that three’s a crowd, but it is cozy.

The two rhodos that are blooming just now in this photo are “rescue rhodos.” My neighbour had planted them next to the roadway but they were constantly being uprooted by deer who pulled them out, thinking they would be tasty. The deer left the plants lying on the soft sandy soil when they discovered the flavour was not what they had hoped.

I picked up the uprooted rhodos as I came along the end of our drive and brought them to the neighbour’s house so they could replant them (hopefully elsewhere). But they just flung them aside.

So after trying three times to give the rhodos a new life, I took the next ones home and tried to revive them myself. I stuck them in water and then found a good spot for them, next to an Alberta spruce.

Now, something over 20 years later these tiny plants have turned into giants. They have grown into each other’s space and the two rhodos and the spruce are huddled together. They stand together against the wind and the rain and cold. They are the survivors.

The Survivor Group

 

We once were unloved castaways,

Our time was numbered then in days,

But now we live, and love the sun,

We each feel we’re the lucky one.

The spruce has been our constant friend,

He braces us against the wind,

He keeps the coldest ice from us,

And shields us both without a fuss,

In turn we share our food with him

And water if supply is slim.

We’re all survivors in this group,

Which makes us such a happy troop.

We like each other’s company,

For friends we three shall always be.

 

Please take a minute to visit my other blog for a comment on Jill Weatherholt’s book, A Father for Bella. Click on the link: https://annelisplace.wordpress.com/2019/05/27/a-father-for-bella/


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Foodies

I have a confession to make. I’m a foodie. One of the best things in my life is having enough to eat.

Alas! The Missus says I’m putting on a bit of weight. She’s no spring chicken herself, and getting a bit plump. She should look into the birdbath one of these days and have a look at her reflection.

It’s a terrible time to try to diet, just when the larvae of the ten-striped June beetles are surfacing. When the next heat wave strikes, the prawn-like grubs will sprout wings and that will be it. No more delicacies for me.  As beetles, they will become the prize of raccoons and bats.

 

Anneli loves it when I help get rid of the grubs. This critter is putting up a bit of a struggle. I hate it when they fight back. It’s so pointless, and I feel like such a bully. There’s no escape once I find them. This one thinks he’s a boxer. Good luck with that, buddy.

He’s tickling my beak, but if he thinks I’ll put him down to scratch an itch, he’s dreaming. This fat “prawn” is so worth the razzing I get from the Missus.

Oops! I just caught my reflection in the sliding glass door of the deck. Hmm…. A tiny bit portly around the waist. Maybe I should have limited myself to just a few of those grubs. But they were so good, and Anneli’s yard is full of them.

But I’m still a handsome devil, don’t you think? I can’t just walk away from a feast. What would you do?


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Man or Nature?

So many times when I’ve stood on my deck and tried to take a photo of the water, I’ve cursed the hydro pole that mars the view.

This time I found the power lines an interesting contrast to the lines created by the tidal movement in the bay.

I still find the man-made power lines to be ugly, but here they emphasize the beauty of  the soft curvy lines of nature.

Man or nature? For me, it’s no contest.


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Hors d’oeuvres, anyone?

Near the mouth of the Campbell River, the Canada geese were having a wine and cheese party, mingling, gossiping, and chatting,  and looking for the hors d’oeuvre platter to come around.

Not far away was a flock of mergansers. When they saw the camera, they got upset. I thought I heard them squawk, “No pictures!” as they fled. But soon I saw that I had misread what was going on. It was the hors d’oeuvre platter going by and they all wanted some salmon fry canapés.

It was a team effort, rushing the waiter who fled with the tray of food. The head merganser called to the others of his team, “Get in a line, quick! Pretend you’re a fishnet and let’s rush the salmon canapés. Surround them if you can.”

“But they’re just small fry,” Alec, the smart one, quacked.

“Silly boy,” Mergan scoffed. “Don’t you know these tidbits are the best?”

“Duh! I guess…. I’ve heard that good things come in small packages.”

“Well, don’t just sit there bobbing on the waves. Swim like you’ve never swum before. If you want to eat, that is.”

*****

Watch this short video, and while you may not see Mergan and her friends rushing the waiter while that smart Alec misses out by being the last – all talk and no action – you will see the water boiling from the onslaught of munching mergansers. The blood and carnage have been censored. I made sure it was all out of sight, under the water. It will help to have the video on full screen so you can see the water on the left, stirred up by the ducks.

 

 

Not that much to see, but under that boiling water, the body count will never be known. The mergansers are very good at hiding the evidence.


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Not so rough, “roughing it”

If you like being out in the quiet of nature and don’t mind having very few people around, a fishing and camping trip on northern Vancouver Island might be just the thing for you.

Bringing along a trailer or a camper is not exactly roughing it, but who says you have to suffer to enjoy the outdoors. The Captain and a couple of friends are exploring new territory.

After a long drive on paved roads, get ready for a fairly long drive on dusty gravel roads. Everything in and on your vehicle will be covered in a fine layer of flour-like dust. But what’s a little dust when you end up on a serene lake like this one?

In the morning, you set out early before the sun burns off the fog over the lake and the wind blows away the last wisps of mist. Maybe it’s easier to sneak up on the trout if they can’t see you coming through the cloud.

Time for a nap after all that fresh air. It’s good to be refreshed in time for an early evening bite, when the trout are looking for their supper.

Next morning the lake is a mirror of beauty.

It’s mostly catch and release, but on the last day it’s nice to bring home a meal in time for a Mother’s Day dinner.

The trout were delicious.