Oh fiddlesticks!

A couple of posts ago, some folks asked to see some pictures of my oriole feeder, so tonight that’s what you’re going to see along with a couple of other patrons of the Hard Rock Bird Café.

I’ve already gone through two 32 oz. jars of the grape jelly.  With the chilly and rainy weather we’ve been having, there aren’t many insects around yet for the orioles and warblers to eat.  If I run out of orange halves, I just leave the peel on the feeder and fill it with jelly.

There are four Baltimore orioles in this picture, but I’ve had as many as seven at a time trying to get to my one feeder.  They don’t always get along with each other, and a lot of hollering and fighting goes on.  When I worked the visitors center on Monday, I counted as many as twenty orioles at a time there.  What delight to see so many bright splashes of orange!

Today, we were invaded by almost 100 kindergarteners.  What a hoot these little ones are.  My job was to take groups of them on a photo hike.  We provide the digital cameras, and they take pictures of the wonders of nature that they discover.  Due to the privacy thing, I really can’t show any pictures of them, but I know Sherry would have appreciated what I had each small group do.  They had to find a tree they all liked and hug it.  You have never seen a more enthusiastic bunch of tree huggers in your life.

As usual, I had my diamond willow walking stick with me.  This always intrigues the kids.  With one group, the conversation went something like this:  “Why do you walk with that stick?”  “Because, I’m old, and need a little help walking.”  “How old are you?”  “I’m almost 67.”  “Wow! That is old!”  “I thought you were 100.”  “No, I have a few years to go to be that old.”  “How many?”  “Oh, about 33 more years.”  “My mom’s 32, and she’s old…” 

Late this afternoon, Emma and I were sitting outside and we even had a yellow-rumped warbler stop by briefly.  He gave the oriole feeder the once over, but then went on his way. 

On nice days, like today, Emma has her supper outside, and then I collect her deposits for the day.  Things went smoothly until I was on my way back to the patio with her ‘scat’ bag.  Somehow, I got my foot tangled in her tie out line, and down I went.  Of course it wasn’t in the softer lawn, but right on the patio.  My right knee took the brunt of it as my hand with the bag reached out to cushion my fall.  It wasn’t pretty.  I should have said, “Oh, poo!” as my hand ripped the bag open and mushed the contents all over the patio.    All I could say was, “That hurts! That hurts! That hurts!” 

Emma ran right over to lick my face as I was writhing on the cement.  Yuck!  I appreciate the thought, but I don’t like the licking!  So, as I write this entry tonight, my right leg is propped up with an ice pack on my knee.  There’s a bit of a gash on it, and I just wish I had a bigger Band-Aid than the ones I have for my split finger tips.  Oh, fiddlesticks!

                                                                               THE END!!

Thanks for stopping by… talk to you later,  Judy