wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


22 Comments

The Weed Eater

“Oh no! Is that who I think it is? ”

 

“Hi Jasper. What are you up to? Any lunch you want to share?”

Oh darn it all. She always shows up at lunch time.

“”Er, ah, hi Roberta. I was just going to have my VEGETARIAN lunch. Nothing you’d be interested in.”

“What is that you’re eating, Jasper? Don’t you prefer seeds and nuts?”

“Yes, well, when it’s hot like this, I like a few greens to help with the thirst.”

“Oh, what the heck. Come on over. There are plenty of weeds to spare in Anneli’s yard. I’m helping her with the weed eating.”

And I’m almost as fast manually as she is with the electric one. I’m like that song by Hall and Oates, The Maneater, except my words are a little bit different.

Oh-oh, here I come.

Watch out weeds, I’ll chew you up.

Oh-oh, here I come.

I’m a weed eater.

 

 

 


34 Comments

Coffee “Crispin”

My daddy, Linc’s a busy boy,

He followed Mom around,

Now with a second family,

His  children do abound.

 

I’ve newly left my cozy nest,

I’m like a Coffee Crisp,

About that size, and so they called,

Me Crispin, Little Wisp.

 

One day I nibbled on the hedge,

But then there came a dog,

I dashed across the driveway fast,

Much faster than a jog.

 

The maple tree was standing by

For such emergencies,

I scrambled up its trunk in time

But I had shaking knees.

 

I laid my body flat and clung,

The maple didn’t mind,

I didn’t want that dog’s sharp teeth 

To bite at my behind.

 

I even stayed till Anneli

Ran to the house and back,

To get her camera for me,

Before I turned to snack.

 

She left the dog inside the house,

And I felt so much braver,

I gave her all the smiles I could,

From that I did not waver.

 

I’m still a tiny Coffee Crisp,

And dangers are so many,

But this is such a lovely place

To live, the best of any.

 

I guess I’d better find some friends,

To help me get along,

So if you hear me chattering,

I’m calling with my song.

*****

Do you like music? Why not go to Spotify then type in The Birkenna Project in the Search bar.  Spotify – Web Player: Music for everyone

Or go to Amazon’s Music sites and do a search for The Birkenna Project. Look for three songs newly uploaded to the album with three more to come soon.

 


26 Comments

Competition

Jasper and Caspar are two of Lincoln’s babies. They bumble and bounce around the woodshed and the trees, quite naively, unaware that danger lurks everywhere.

But today, Jasper cares only about eating.

“It’s a chilly day for June,” he says. “I have to eat something to warm up. I’ll try this bit of bark .”

“Oops! Oh darn. It fell between the logs. It wasn’t that tasty anyway. I need to find a cone.”

“Maybe there’s one tucked inside this stump.”

“Ho-Hohhhh!” says Caspar. “What are you up to, Jasper? Anything I can help you find?”

“Nothing! Nothing at all.” Jasper tries to sound convincing. “Why don’t you just go find your own cones, Caspar? This is MY stump.”

 

“Whew! Got rid of him. But now, to find a new cone. Let’s see…. Where can I find a cone? There must be some buried around here. I’m thinking, I’m thinking….”

“I’ll try digging here. Looks like a lot of digging has been going on.”

“Ahh … yes! My reward for all my hard work. Now I’d better find a safe place to eat it.”

Jasper and Caspar have once shared a nest

Now they just fight about who is the best.

Who can find hazelnuts, filberts, and cones?

Who fills his stomach then lies down and groans?

 

One finds a treasure, the other sneaks in,

Stuffs up his face from his cheeks to his chin,

Runs to a stump where he gobbles his loot,

Before brother jumps up to give him the boot.

 

Backflips and scampers around and around,

Climbing up fir trees till he can’t be found,

“I’ll get you for that,” Jasper chatters out loud.

“So catch me,” sneers Caspar. He’s feeling quite proud.

 

“What about sharing?” our Jasper exclaims.

Quivering mad, he is tired of these games.

“Dig,” Caspar says, “there are more cones to find,

It’s called competition, and that, I don’t mind.”

 

 


36 Comments

Nuts About Nuts

Ooh! Look what I found! Hee, hee. I knew I had some good ones stashed from last year.

Now to get into it without breaking a tooth.

Oh, yum!

Here’s the best part.

Bit stale … yup … that’s a last year’s for sure. “Best before” date’s been and gone.

Urrrrp!  Hmm … starting to get a bit of a tummy ache.

Oh, what the heck. Might as well finish it.

One more bite. C’mon, Lincoln. You can do it.

Groan … anybody got any Gaviscon? Tums?

I’m nuts about nuts,

But they get to my guts,

And then I don’t feel so good.

 

 

With trees everywhere,

We can easily share,

There’s lots in my neighbourhood.

 

 

I eat the nutmeat,

It’s the tastiest treat,

But eating too much is not nice.

 

 

So high on my list,

Nuts are hard to resist,

See, even a squirrel has his vice.

*****

Writers, please visit my other blog for “no pressure” writing tips.

https://annelisplace.wordpress.com/2021/04/17/the-truth-you-dont-need/


26 Comments

Reluctant Sharing

“I could hardly wait for my breakfast of sunflower seeds this morning, folks. It was darned chilly overnight and I needed a few heat calories.”

 

“While Lincoln takes a break to go chase Della around the woodshed, I’m going to sneak a few sunflower seeds. But oh my goodness, they’re big. I wonder if I bit off more than I can chew.”

 

“Did you see that sneaky thief getting into my stash? I only turned my back for a few seconds to go tell Della that breakfast is served, and that foxy sparrow was into my food. I’m going to have to put some of these away for a rainy day.”

 

“Not too far away, and still under the roof. That will keep it dry.”

 

“Now stay! — I’ve seen Anneli do this with Emma. She points her fingers at her and says, ‘Stay!’ I’ll do what she does. Cool, eh?”

 

“Silly Lincoln. Every time he goes to bury a sunflower seed, I can zip right in here and help myself to his breakfast. Oh well, survival of the fittest (and smartest – that’s me). There’s a reason they call me a fox sparrow.”

 

Sharing shelter, that’s okay,

Sometimes it works out that way,

Sharing food’s another thing,

Since it can starvation bring.

 

Oh, all right, I get fed well,

But when seeds are in their shell,

It takes time to eat them up,

In my hands shaped like a cup.

 

Then along comes foxy sparrow,

Sitting on the jar rim narrow,

Helps himself to food that’s mine,

No permission here to dine.

 

Go ahead then, help yourself,

Sitting there upon my shelf,

I will have to be more wary,

Sunflower seeds I now must bury.

 

 


44 Comments

A Windy Night

“Will ya look at that?” Emma says. “Branches all over the yard are bad enough, but that one that smashed into Lincoln’s house is huge. And it’s still up there!”

“I know! I saw the whole thing from inside my cedar hedge home when it happened.”

The Captain pulled the treetop off the woodshed roof with his old beater truck while the Admiral ran for the tape measure. Thirty feet snapped right off the top of a tree to the left of the woodshed.

And another long branch is still up there – it got hung up on the way down.

“Good grief!” wails Lincoln. “That was my lookout tree. The whole top is gone. And I had plans for all those cones left on the tree.”

“I feel just sick!”

The forces of nature make changes on Earth,

They make creatures realize what life is worth,

The wind can move trees and the branches around,

It howls and it yowls with a frightening sound,

The birds and the squirrels take cover and hide,

They shiver and shake while the storm they outride,

But after a night that they spent curled up tight,

They creep out and check in the bright morning light,

To see if their home world is standing there still,

It’s been slightly changed, but survive it they will.


29 Comments

Easter Snack Time

“These walnuts are really good, but what’s that you say? There will be eggs? It’s too soon for the birds to lay eggs, isn’t it? Otherwise I’d think about helping myself.”

“No-no-no-no-no!” says the bunny. “Not now, Lincoln. They’re for Easter. But you can’t have them yet. I have to paint them first.”

“What? Aw, no. You can’t fool me that way. I can see they’re already painted. Just look at them!” 

And sure enough, the eggs Anneli buys look like it’s Easter every day.


Happy Easter, everyone.

 

Chickens lay the Easter eggs,

Rabbits like to paint them,

Lincoln likes to steal the eggs,

So, he’s not a saint then.

 

Lincoln tries to rob a nest,

Sticks his head right in there,

Momma bird gives him a peck,

Feels just like a pin there.

 

Maybe it’s a better plan

Not to steal the birds’ eggs,

Walnuts do taste very good,

Looking cute, the squirrel begs.

 

But who cares about the day

That the folks call Easter,

Lincoln eats his walnut snack, 

Sitting on his keister.

 

 


21 Comments

Fir Cones

Lincoln finishes off yet another fir cone, leaving only the stem and a few messy bits on the ground. He likes to eat the seeds, one by one, from the base of the seedwings which are stuck to the stem of the cone. He spits away the rest, littering the forest floor with the brown dishlike flakes.

Then he goes into a fantasy world and pretends to be a star in his own movie. He takes the denuded fir cone stem and holds it like a king in a dubbing ceremony. Since Lincoln is alone he has to play the role of both the king and the young squirrel about to become a knight.

Are you ready?

A good bath is due, 
For the purification,
And so Lincoln scratches,
His mite infestation.

A red robe is worn, 
His fur coat has the hue,
For black shoes and socks,
His dark toenails will do.

The sword on the altar,
Awaits while Linc prays,
It should be ten hours, 
But that feels like days.

We'll gloss over that part,
A squirrel can't sit still,
At least he's not hungry,
He's eaten his fill.

Now here comes the king
He picks up the cone sword,
"Squire Squirrel," he says to him,
"Please harken my word."

The king lifts the cone sword
And whacks it right down,
Upon Lincoln's shoulder, 
And says with a frown.

"My faithful Squire Squirrel
While you kneel here alone,
I dub you, Sir Lincoln,
As knight you'll be known."

So whaddaya think, eh?

SIR Lincoln, heeheeheeheeheeeeeeeeee!

If you are a writer, please visit my other blog for a post about publishing.

https://annelisplace.wordpress.com/2021/03/28/publication-mania-2/


51 Comments

Hidden Pictures

Do you remember “Hidden Pictures” in the puzzle books for kids? The drawings were usually full of squiggly lines and somewhere in the maze of lines were smaller hidden pictures.  The goal was to find them all.

In the photo below, there is only one hidden picture for you to find. It’s my friend Lincoln, the squirrel.  Can you find him?

You may have to click to enlarge the photo to find him. If you can’t find him even after clicking to enlarge the photo, I’ve made it easy for you by adding the cropped photo below, that zeroes in on him.

 

 

I’m hiding cones for later snacks,

Someplace behind these wooden stacks.

Some niches in the wood will be

Where future goodies wait for me.

The problem is to finally choose,

And that location not to lose.

So many possibilities,

They challenge my abilities

To know what’s where and how to find

The yummy snacks I’ve left behind.

 


25 Comments

The White Stuff

“Eh? Orson? What’s that you said?” That Oregon junco knows everything that’s going on around here.

It's a chilly wind today,
My fur coat is on to stay,
I'm so happy to be warm,
With the temps below the norm.

“If you’d pay attention, Lincoln, you’d know there’s been a big change in the weather.” Him and his big fur coat. He probably hasn’t even noticed. But just look at Emma. She’s still trying to figure it out too.

Look now, Lincoln! See the ground,
See the flakes fall all around?
Food will be more precious though,
Covered as it is with snow.

“Sheesh! This is just like in the movies where Bambi says, ‘Mother, what’s all that white stuff?’ and she says, with her soft, stunned voice, like some naive housewife out of a 50s sitcom, ‘Why … it’s snow!'”

Emma snarfs in deep, long sniffs,
White stuff gives off special whiffs,
Did a raccoon pass by here?
Did a rabbit scratch his ear?

Licking, tasting flakes of snow. 
Tries to bite it, where'd it go?
Funny flakes of wetness fall,
On her head and over all.

Emma gives her coat a shake,
Leaving just one lonely flake,
Sitting on her pointy nose,
Then into the house she goes.