wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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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.


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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.”


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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.


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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.

 

 


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The Takeover

Whoah! Will ya look at that? Who knew all those poppy seeds would take over the garden?

 

 

When the garden’s full of weeds,

We give thanks for poppy seeds,

Once they grow they cover up

Every weed that’s coming up.

 

But the rain has flattened them,

Looks like someone sat on them,

Soon the flowers have to go,

Or the veggies just can’t grow.


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Two Left Feet

Once again, I was inspired by a post by David Kanigan https://davidkanigan.com/2022/06/28/walking-bring-out-your-dead/ when he wrote about feet and balance. It reminded me that about 8 years ago I had done a post about two left feet. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to re-post it just for a little chuckle. My apologies for followers from that time who have already seen this.

Chapter One

It’s easy to laugh at someone else when they do something silly, forgetful, or just plain stupid. I don’t think there’s any harm in it as long as the “someone” is laughing too. Then you’re laughing “with” them rather than “at” them.

On a weekend fishing trip one summer, the Captain and I had fished for trout on the lake and stopped to stretch our legs on a gravelly beach at the mouth of a creek that fed into the lake.

IMGP0664After a while, a fish jumped and made quite a big splash at the mouth of the creek. The Captain grabbed his flyrod and cast towards the ripples the fish had left.

Fishing [1]

The fish was a tease, jumping repeatedly, just out of reach. No problem, high gumboots meant the Captain could wade into the water and get closer.

But not quite close enough. The Captain is a good flyline caster but still, the fly landed just a little bit short each time.

“Aw…darn,” he said. “My boot has a leak. Oh well, might as well go in a bit farther. I’m already wet. I think I can get close enough. Darn it all! Should’ve brought my waders.”

Wading outfit

Persistence paid off, and the fish was hooked and released. Now for a well-deserved rest on the gravel bed. The rocks warmed the fisherman with the wet pants and sopping wet feet.

As he lay down on the gravel to soak up some warmth, I took his photo and noticed….

Two left feet up close

Not only was there a split in the bottom of one boot — the cause of the leak — but the boots were for two left feet. Somewhere at home in the garage were boots for two right feet.

Chapter Two

This may seem to be a whole other topic, but I assure you the chapters are related.

I have troublesome feet, so I wear orthotic inserts. I also have had trouble finding comfortable shoes, so when I discovered some Brooks runners that fit my feet comfortably, I bought them and wore them happily nearly every day. At last they started to look slightly worn. I went back to the same store and bought exactly the same thing again. Well, they were ever so slightly different in colour, but basically the same shoe. One would be my good pair and the other the “beater” pair. See the “beaters” below.

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For now, until I would get a second pair of orthotic inserts, I put my orthotics into the shoes I wore most often (the beater pair). Last summer I bought a pair of Costco Dr. Scholl inserts as spares for the time being and put them in my new runners.

The other day I put on my shoes to go out. The left one was a bit tight, so I loosened the laces. That was better. I was going to loosen the right shoelace as well, but then I realized that, although it was snugly laced, it was comfortable as it was.

“Hmm…I wonder why that is.” My right foot should be bigger if anything, and a tighter squeeze, so why is that shoe more comfortable?” I put my weight on one shoe and  then the other. Definitely, the right shoe felt better on my feet. I had a closer look. You can take a look too. Do you see what I see?

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When I discovered what I was wearing, I went looking for my other pair of runners. In the garage was a pair of Brooks, as mismatched as the ones on my feet, but my mumbled “OMG” got louder when I discovered that the “odd couple” in the garage had the Costco Dr. Scholl’s inserts in them. Remember, I had bought these inserts months ago, so if there was one Dr. Scholl’s in each of these shoes, they must have been like this since last summer.

Gradually a growing horror dawned on me. I had been wearing mismatched shoes since last summer and this was now almost December. I thought of all the places I had been and the homes where I visited and took my shoes off at the door. I had even been to the doctor to get a referral for new orthotics!  “OMG! OMG! OMG!”

It must be my punishment for laughing at the Captain’s two left feet.

 


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Squirrel Talk

Lately, the squirrels have been noisier when they get fed. I don’t know what they’re saying to each other, but it seems as if they can’t stop talking. Didn’t their mother teach them not to talk with their mouth full? Be sure to have the sound on so you can hear their conversation.

 

It’s a funny spring this year,

Filberts, there are none, I hear.

Even fir cones haven’t grown,

Unlike other years I’ve known.

 

I’m so thankful for these seeds,

They will sure fulfill our needs,

You eat yours and I’ll eat mine,

Then we’ll get along just fine.


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Father’s Day Flowers

One day a year we remember to honour our fathers. You may say, “My dad died years ago. I can forget about Father’s Day.” But don’t we owe it to our fathers to think of them for one day out of 365, even if they are no longer with us?

I understand that there are many unfortunate people out there who had a father that was less than ideal, but if we think hard, there is probably something in all our growing up years that is a good memory of him.

The bottom line is, without them, we would not be here.

Just in time for Father’s Day, my Oriental poppies opened up …

as well as one of my favourite irises …

to keep the old standard blue irises company.

 

Father, so proud of his children each day,

He will protect them in every way.

Sometimes he seems to be quite out of touch,

With things important, that matter so much.

 

Wait a few years and revisit the scene,

Often we see just how wrong we have been.

Fathers have been there and made those mistakes

That now his child out of stubbornness makes.

 

Sometimes old fashioned, and sometimes too stern,

Still he’s insistent that his child must learn,

Grow up with values so decent and right,

Though foolish children put up such a fight.

 

No, it’s not easy to parent a child,

Easier being too meek and too mild,

But it’s the strict laws that Father lays down

That make us thankful with smiles, not a frown.

 

If your dad’s with you, give thanks for his love,

Think how he kept your hand warm in his glove,

Caring, admiring, so proud of his child,

Little he knew just how much you ran wild.

 

Love unconditional, that’s what he gave,

In any danger, your life he would save,

Think of him kindly, and don’t criticize,

You did no wrong in his sweet, doting eyes.

 


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Randolph Raccoon Roots Around

The Captain and I were having an afternoon coffee on our deck when Randolph came to visit. He’d been lurking around the yard late at night and usually disappeared in the wee hours of the morning. But lately he is getting braver about being seen in the glaring daylight hours.

He wasn’t too concerned about anything – even took time to scratch an itch.

He came right out in the open, looking for dandelions in the grass, and this explains his more frequent visits. Our grass is loaded in weeds. Definitely not a Scott’s Turfbuilder lawn. I don’t really mind him digging out the weeds to get at the roots or bugs, but I wish he would refill the holes.

Until now I had been blaming Bonnie and Benny Bunny for all the holes dug in our “lawn,” and they do their fair share of digging, but I saw Randolph in action this day, and knew I had to allow the bunnies some leniency. They are probably only guilty of digging a third of the holes in the yard.