wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


30 Comments

The Egg Family

Father, Mother, and Junior have egged me on to do this post about them. My ideas were a bit scrambled and I didn’t know eggzactly what to do, but I poached this idea from a long eggo post.

The sunny side up about this whole thing is that the yolk is on them because I’m the one having the fun.

You may notice that the big daddy of all eggs is green with envy. He wanted to be like the others, but his wife, the mother egg, got browned off with all his complaining.  Her baby is browned off too, but as it turned out later, he was all bluster on the outside and runny guts on the inside. Father Egg always said Junior was coddled too much, but he still gave him his benedict – shun.

“Remember that we’re all the same on the inside. Our outer shell may be different but, for better or worse, we’re all whites on the inside,” Father Egg said.
“Yeah and a bit of yellow belly. That comes from being destined to be a chicken,” Mother Egg said.

Father Egg said, “I know I should never have left Denver and the other omelettes. You are the most deviled egg I’ve ever met. I know you think that was a wise crack you made, but in the end that crack will be your demise.”

“Fiddle faddle,” said Mother Egg. “Trying to be so hard boiled. You really are just a shell of a man.”

“Be careful, Mother,” said Father Egg. “You think I’m just over easy, but I know egg-I who was too eggcitable, and was always foaming at the mouth until his people had the idea of whipping him up into a lemon meringue pie.”

“That won’t happen to me,” said Mother Egg. “I’m just going to set here and write my memoirs. Someday omeletters will be in the museum archives and I’ll be famous. Junior can help me.”

“Oh no,” clucked Junior. “I’m too much of a chicken.”

“All right,” said Father Egg, “It’s time for some more yolks. Did you hear the one about the guy who went into the restaurant and asked what the specials were. The waiter said, “I recommend the cold tongue sandwich.”

“What?!” the guy said. “Me? Eat something that someone else has had in their mouth?”

“Oh, pardon me,” said the waiter. “Well, let’s see. How about an egg then?”

And so it went until they all cracked up and took a flying leap into the frying pan.

It turned out that big daddy turned out to be twice the man anyone thought he was. Here he is in the bowl. He had an eggstra yolk to tell, but we never got to hear it.


37 Comments

Raccoon Invasion

It was quite dark when I took these pictures and then I tried to crop and lighten them somewhat so you could see the invasion of masked terrorists entering illegally.

They will take whatever they want: beetles, garden plants, and anything left over in bird feeders, or sunflower seeds that the squirrels missed.

Last week there were first four and then five raccoons. Now there are six! We are overrun with them. Will it ever end?

 

Carping and barking, we all go a-larking,

When daylight has faded enough.

Leaping and creeping, while folks are a-sleeping,

Avoiding a doggie’s rebuff.

 

Scratching the hatching of June bugs we’re catching,

We crunch up the meaty delight,

Smacking  and snacking, no flavour is lacking,

We chew every delicate bite.

 

Clicking and picking, the camera’s tricking

Our groupings to catch us at work,

Crashing and dashing we run from its flashing

Our family scatters berserk.

 

Mewling and fooling around can be grueling,

But masks will keep hidden our face.

Scowling and growling, we carry on prowling,

And hurry to find the next place.


40 Comments

Nightly Visitors

The sun has just dropped below the hills. The first bats of the evening flit spastically through the air, looking for those giant beetles that helicopter around on hot nights. Once the bats go to work, the raccoons know it’s dark enough.

One muted sharp chirping bark calls the team together.

It’s time to go to work.

They creep through the hedge, sniff the air, and advance towards the safety of the island of trees.

“Now, Ralphie! Stick close to Mama,” says Rebecca. “And keep that mask on. There’s still Covid around, and even if masks don’t work, it’s better than nothing.”

Rhonda’s family comes out too, gathering around for a quick meeting to discuss the best route for foraging  through the yard. Richie, Ronnie, and Rachel mill around waiting for someone to make the first move. “But what’s the bright light?”

“Don’t worry. It’s too dark for anyone to see us now. That’s only some would-be photographer. Just hide behind your mask.”

The group scratches and paws at the ground. Some of them find the ten-lined June beetles that foolishly think they are safe to fly around at night, landing on anything and everything.
But any that land near a raccoon, on the ground or in the trees become just another hors d’oeuvre. Chomp! Chomp! Another one down the hatch.

“But where are we going? Are we going to check out the squirrels’ sunflower seed leftovers first? How do we get through the gate? ”

“Oh, come on then. I’ll show you the way. Never mind those squirrels in the woodshed.”

With a snort, Rebecca motors through the space in the fence, and all four of them follow her on the next stage of their nightly trek.

Once the raccoons started to run for cover it was hard to follow them with the camera, so apologies for the scrambled ending of the video below, but I did spy a small set of eyes hiding behind the tree.

 


40 Comments

The New Pool

It has been so hot that I thought the squirrels would appreciate having some water handy. An old dog dish works fine to hold water.

Dickie, son of Lincoln, spies it, and wonders what to do about it. He decides it must be a swimming pool and goes to put on his bathing suit.

What a gorgeous swimming pool,

Perfect in this heat,

Skinny dipping is the rule,

But I might just cheat.

Are you ready for my suit?

Now I’m feeling silly,

Don’t you laugh and shout and hoot,

Just because it’s frilly.

 

“Nah!” says Dickie.  He’s in doubt,

“Rather have a snack,

Maybe when no one’s about

I will sneak right back.”

“Oh, but look what goes below,

Grizzled and so hairy.

He’s much bigger, that I know,

So I must be wary.”

Maybe next time I will show you what Dickie saw. Meanwhile, why don’t you join him for lunch? Turn on your sound and tell me if you think he’s smacking his lips as he chews with his mouth open.


47 Comments

Flossie the Floozie

Have you ever been ignored by someone you care about? You wait, hopeful for conversation, and … nothing.

I told Floyd, “My name’s Flossie. How are you?” But he was so snooty. He just flew to a nearby tree and ignored me. Let me tell you, I was hurt.

I was seriously doubting myself. Having a confidence meltdown. I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. Why didn’t he like me? He was so unfriendly. Just stuck his nose in the air. He was fine as long as HE was talking, but as soon as I said something, he flew off.

Then I had a thought. I … er … I … hadn’t had a  bath in a while.

I checked my pits. Hmmm…. Got myself tidied up and as I sat there waiting, I realized that when I introduced myself, he must have thought I said my name was Floozie, not Flossie.

Well, now we wait … and we’ll see. I should wait a few minutes before I call him back. Wait until my feathers aren’t so ruffled. But still, what a nerve of him to be so rude.

 

Flossie Flicker’s feelings hurt,

Floyd has treated her like dirt,

When he talks about his day,

He expects to have his say.

 

But when Flossie wants to yack,

All he does is turn his back.

Flossie is so insecure,

Not so confident, not sure.

 

Then she spruces up her look,

Waits for Floyd and sets the hook,

“My name’s Flossie! It’s not Floozie!

Goodness gracious! Floyd’s a doozie.”


30 Comments

The Plum Tree Nest

Two things are special about this nest.

One – I didn’t know it was there and it isn’t a robin’s nest. Something smaller, but I don’t know what.

Two – Because of finding this nest I now know that there are a few (VERY few) plums on this tree. The plum trees have been a bust this year. We have two Italian prune plum trees and two of these round yellow-green cherry plum trees (I don’t know what they’re called). See the plums? One is by the nest and the other is at the bottom left of the picture.

The nest might have been from some smallish bird like a chipping sparrow, but it was not a spotted towhee (they nest on the ground) or a bigger bird like a robin that would need a bigger nest (robins and towhees being the two most common birds around here).

But if it hadn’t been for the nest, I wouldn’t have noticed that there are a few plums on the tree – the only plums this year! No prune plums and only a handful of these green ones.

The baby birds are long gone, and I can only hope that they made it. I love having birds around.

Baby birds have left their home,

And set out, the world to roam,

They have left the nest behind,

Now it’s there for me to find.

 

Next to it, some plums have grown,

Though I hadn’t even known,

Good to see at least a few,

That have blossomed, and then grew.


36 Comments

Stop Picking on Me!

“Hey! Squirrel! What’re you lookin’ at?”

“Wow! Does it hurt? You know … where the feathers are missing on top of your head.”

“Nah … Gets a little cool and wet when it’s rainy, and I got a sunburn the other day, but otherwise, it just lets air get to my head.”

“So does that mean you’re an airhead?”

“Course not! And stop picking on me.”

“Looks like someone else was picking on you. What happened?”

“I don’t know for sure, but some big bird dive bombed me when I was so focused on getting the bugs out of a tree and I forgot to look up every few seconds. See the holes where he tried to grab me?”

“Yeah! That’s amazing. What are you going to do about it? About the hair loss, I mean. I’ve heard Rogaine is supposed to work.”

“It’ll grow back soon enough on its own. I figure if I stay up higher than anyone else and keep my head up, no one can see the damage to my helmet. That way I can keep the incident under my hat.”

“Good luck with that. I can see the bald spot from here.

And you know I’m a chatterbox … but I’ll try to be nice. No promises though.”


47 Comments

Flicker Baby

Mom told me to wait for her up here. I don’t like being alone.

Oh, my! I hope she hurries. I don’t like the look of that crow.

Mother Flicker dips and glides,

While her baby sits and hides,

Harvesting some lovely ants,

Adds a beetle to enhance,

All the goodness that she feeds,

To her babe and fills his needs.

 

Junior waits while mother works,

Hoping that no danger lurks,

Crows and merlins and the like,

Waiting for a chance to strike,

Junior always eyes the skies,

Watching everything that flies.

 

“Come on, Mama!” Junior cries,

“Bring those insects, bugs, and flies,

I’m so hungry all the time,

Don’t you hear the lunch bell chime?”

Nervous baby can relax,

Mom is back and she brought snacks.


43 Comments

Guarding Lunch

Usually, animals guard their food from the competition, but this is the first time I’ve actually seen one sitting on it.

 

 

Sometimes finding food is hard,

Instinct tells you to stand guard,

But when there’s no room to stand,

Sit down, let your big butt land.

 

No one else can get your food,

You don’t care if it seems rude,

Once you only stood and hovered,

Now you’ve really got it covered.