I think I see him. I hope he’s got my bag of grubs.
Yes, you’re right! And I see the big sack full of hazelnuts for me.
Er, ah, HERE I AM, Santa. OVER HERE!
Where? I don’t see anything.
When he does come, I hope he brings me a lot of rosehips. Wonder what they’d taste like. In the winter I get tired of these holly berries and mountain ash berries. But maybe the rosehips are too fuzzy inside. They look good though.
Oooooh! Look! He’s got sleigh troubles. His reindeer are conking out. Should’ve got a Tesla Sleigh. With inflation, the price of reindeer food today is high, even for Santa. But even so, the cost of the Tesla Sleigh itself is enough to break the bank.
Yeah, he’s in trouble all right. Look! He’s turning around. Sniff… there goes that box of dog biscuits I asked for.
I see that. Hmm … I think I hear them complaining about being hitched up so close. Something about social distancing.
Sigh! No herring for supper tonight. Not by special delivery, anyway.
Well, I never! He’s going back to the North Pole. There goes that bunch of tree bugs I asked for.
I’ll go round up some recr-hoots.
Hey, you. Santa’s looking to hire you, Al and the Paca, to be his reindeer substitutes.
What’s that you say? You don’t play second fiddle? Huh! You’d think that in the spirit of Christmas, you’d oblige an old man. I see you are related to those llamas next door with all their llammering. You’re just lazy, the All Packa ya. Well, see if I give a hoot.
Here’s a likely crew.
Say, would you pronghorns like to save Santa’s bacon tonight?
But we’re in Montana.
That’s okay. He’ll have to go by there when he limps home with his rainydeer crew and drops them off. Maybe you can hop on and help get them home before the nightshift begins. Thanks a lot.
I’ve been watching and I don’t see him coming back yet. Must be in the workshop, adjusting the harnesses to the new team.
I think I see him now, with his fresh crew of pronghorns. Funny-looking reindeer. Better than nothing, I guess.
Oh, this is so exciting. We just can’t sit still.
Children, children, not so loud,
Reindeer’s nervous of the crowd,
Send a delegation out,
Find that sleigh, and kids don’t pout.
Let’s go meet him.
This way! This way!
Santa’s big sleigh.
Sliding, gliding,
Santa’s riding.
Now settle down or Santa will think you’re all quackers.
Look how well behaved we are; black and white, eating at the same table together. One big happy flock. We’re a “blended flock.”
Oh, listen to you guys. You think it’s easy being the black swan of the family?
Whaddaya mean? You think you’ve got it bad? You try being a rat. All I did was chew on a few of those lovely black licorice cords in the truck and WHAM! They lifted the trunk and exposed me to the elements. But they won’t see me hiding in the corner. Bet you can’t see me either. I’ve got a really good hiding place in the door well too. I’ll just wait there until Santa brings new wiring for me to nibble on.
One thing we all got for Christmas – not sure if Santa had anything to do with it – was darn cold weather. So when Santa had to fly back to change his Rainydeer tires for the more heavy-duty Pronghorn brand, he asked the North Wind to provide some Puddle Puzzles for us to play with while we await his return.
Actually, I thought the puzzles were more like A-maze-ing. You just try it. See if you can find a path out of this maze.
I hope your Christmas holiday time is amazing too.
Did you find the rat in the truck? Look on the far back right-hand corner of the picture (actually the left side of the truck).
My name is Vera. I’m a varied thrush. You may think I look a lot like Roberta the robin. She’s my cousin.
Here’s Roberta the robin this spring, looking a bit ruffled up against the wind.
Roberta came down from the hills with her friends and family last week and so did all my varied thrush friends. We’d been in the conifers in the hills, picking at berries and bugs, but then the snow came and covered all our food.
So we huddled in the woods until the worst of the weather blew over and then found out where Roberta had gone. Well, we all congregated at Anneli’s house and at some of her neighbours’ too. The bare patches of dirt had bugs and worms we could pick at, and the houses along this road had a lot of mountain ash trees growing, so we ate some of those red berries they grow.
With Canadian Thanksgiving coming up this weekend, I decided to read some background on the origins of this holiday and found that the information was a jumble of ideas and beliefs, historical evidence, and a lot of surmise. This holiday celebrated everything from a reunion of Martin Frobisher’s scattered windblown fleet in northern Canada in 1578 to Champlain’s feasts of thanksgiving for the harvest with the Mi’kmaqs and the French in 1606 (at which time the Mi’kmaqs introduced cranberries to the pioneers’ diet and helped prevent scurvy).
The American influence brought the North American turkey, pumpkins, and squash to the Thanksgiving feast in the 1750s.
On January 31, 1957, the annual harvest time feast became an official holiday. In Canada it was to be held on the second Monday of October. An earlier November date was changed so it would not interfere with Remembrance Day on November 11.
Whatever the historical reasons for dates and for celebrating, it is commonly accepted that it is a time to give thanks for our many blessings.
These blessings may differ from one person to another, but the feeling of gratitude is the same.
Some traits to consider, one for each letter of Happy Thanksgiving:
Humble
Aiding
Providing
Patient
Yielding
Thankful
Helpful
Active
Noble
Kneeling
Satisfied
Gracious
Inviting
Volunteering
Innovative
Natural
Goodness
I hope you all have a million things to be thankful for this year. I know I do.
This is perfect. Close to my woodshed where I can sleep out of the wind and rain. Old stack of landscape ties nearby for my root cellar and temporary stash….
Fall is in the air, and I have to fill the larder. I have hazelnut trees right here in the yard, but what I’m looking forward to is the brand new hazelnut tree across the street with sweet young hazelnuts this year. They’re smaller than the ones here, but they should be tasty.
Decisions, decisions. What to do? Well, I might just have to go for both.
First a little taste test. I stashed these young nuts here this morning, but after all that running back and forth and climbing the tree, I’ve worked up quite an appetite.
Yup! They’re good. Now to stash them under the landscape ties until I have time to bury the nuts here and there for my winter snacks.
But wait! I’d better check and make sure no one sees where I’m putting the nuts temporarily.
Okay, I think it’s safe enough. It’s only that kooky old lady with her camera. She’s harmless.
Jasper and Crispin are in love. They’ve been chasing each other up and down the fir trees, and through stacks of firewood in the woodshed.
It looks like Jasper has finally caught up to Crispin.
Crispin might be having second thoughts. She’s sneaking away – a bit late – as Jasper’s declarations of love came as a bit of a surprise today. Something tells me that, after all her flirting, she wasn’t expecting quite so much attention. She’s going to find a quiet place to contemplate WHAT JUST HAPPENED.
“Crispin, come back! I love you!” Jasper calls. But she’s gone.
“That was sure fun! But will she come back? Maybe I shouldn’t have been so aggressive, but I thought she was just playing hard to get. And she didn’t say no. Heck! I thought she liked it. I know I did.”
“But what if she gets pregnant? Oh dear! I’m not sure I’m ready to be a father. Oh deardeardear! She’s probably mad at me. I may never see her again.”
“But no! Here she comes with a peace offering. Isn’t she just so sweet?”
“Does this mean you’re my girl? Will you marry me, Crispin?”
I know I’ve been moaning and groaning about the snow and how hard it is for the tiny hummingbirds and other little creatures who have to try to survive in the snow and cold.
But for those of you who can shut that dilemma out of your head, you may want to make the best of this snowy weather.
If you have access to a ski hill, you can do that (if you’re still young enough to take advantage of this vigorous pastime).
At the top of the chairlift, have a look around and enjoy the crisp air. Take in the vastness of the valley below. Do you feel small?
Forget about birds that want to land on a branch. They are gone from this frozen place, leaving it all to you.
Pure and clean! And now for an exhilarating ride to the bottom of the hill. Swish! … Don’t fall.
The skiff of snow we had the other day was just the prelude to get us in tune for the magnum opus.
Some snow for Christmas was a fine seasonal touch, even if it was a bit hard on the birds, but the snowfall we had in the last two days, coupled with a drastic drop in temperatures and an increase in NW wind – well, let’s just say I’m praying for the return of my old friends, wind and rain.
Since the Arctic winds are coming from the north or northwest, I decided to put more birdseed on the leeward side of the house. Out of the wind, the picnic blanket won’t blow away or freeze to the ground as readily.
So, not being particularly house proud, I sprinkled bird seed liberally by my front door and in the dry edges near the house on the south and east sides.
Emma can’t believe her eyes. So many birds. You know she’s a “bird dog” but that is not supposed to apply to songbirds. She’s in shock that birds are right there on the other side of the glass – you know, that glass beside the door where she always looks out when she’s left behind.
“Wow!” she says. “A varied thrush!” And she tells herself to stop drooling.
“Oh, it’s you again,” says Vera Thrush. “You should stop poking your nose into the glass pane. You’re mucking it all up with noseprints.”
“On second thought,” thinks Vera, “I should maybe check out another area and come back later when that maniac killer dog is having a nap. But … does she ever sleep?” Vera turns to go. “Better safe than sorry…. Hmmpf! Can’t believe I said that. Such a cliché.”
After weeks of hot, dry weather, the cooler days of autumn are so welcome. The grass that was yellow and breaking off if anyone walked on it, is breathing a huge sigh of relief. With each little rainfall, it has greened up slightly. Now, it is getting a really good soaking as the skies opened up and torrents of water dumped out.
And of course, I ran for the shovel when this rainbow appeared. I’m still looking for that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
wordsfromanneli 