Monday, February 28, 2005

Birds Well Fed, Empty Purse and so called Butterfly Attracting Plants

Sure as heck we're going to have to mortgage the house to pay for all this birdfeed. The flying tykes have gone mad over the seed and the suet as if its The Great Famine. I'm going to have to fill it up before the week is out. I'm thinking these birds are going to be so fat soon, I swear they won't be able to perch on the clothes line anymore. Its quite the entertainment, much better than TV. Our back garden is now a wonderful little haven to watch from the patio window. At first they were leary of us but I reckon by yesterday I could have been bellowing out "Jerusalem" (not that I do, mind) and they would have ignored me whilst busily feeding not two feet away from my nose.

I've decided that spring is here. I planted crocuses with mad abandon late yesterday afternoon. Obviously its a sure sign there will be a frost any day now.

Doppleganger Ursula wrote to tell me about plants to grow that will attract butterflies. So I marched on to the SAD store to look for agastache which I had never heard of, but some folks swear blind you'll have clouds of butterflies flitting round your garden if you plant them. Ursula has three pots of them, did admit that so far she hasn't seen hide nor hair of a butterfly. But she is giving them one more chance, which sounds ominous for their long term future in her backyard. Anyway I'd like to defend agastache's honour but I couldn't find them at the garden centre. I made do with two "generic" packages of seeds that attract butterflies and hummingbirds, which is probably way too optimistic for my suburban garden, but we'll give it a whirl. I seem to buy more items for the garden than actual food for the dinner table these days.

Saturday, February 26, 2005

The holy grail of bird feeders and the Litter story continues



I had some friends over the other night and one of them, Persephone, brought over some beer with a wonderful label, Monty Python's Holy Grail, tempered over burning witches - I attach a picture. I've been a sucker for labels for a long time and will go in the liquor store and select a bottle of wine or beer, purely on the label. As it happens, this beer is truly very good, and I highly recommend it. The beer is brewed in Yorkshire by Black Sheep Brewery and I'm thinking that would be a grand place to visit if I were in that neck of the woods.

Encouraged by the success of the ten buck bird feeder, Gregoire and I went in search of a bird bath and a hummingbird feeder. Well I am not sure Gregoire was so much into both of those items, but we ended up at the SAD (Spend Astronomical Dosh) store again and I ran amok. I bought an additional feeder which seemed to be aimed primarily at woodpeckers (see exhibit A right).


I then bought a planter base which I adapted as a birdbath by putting it atop of an existing blue plant pot that I found down the lane last year (see exhibit B left).



Litter, I digress. I actually do write about litter. I went on the route today. It wasn't too bad. Lots of McDonald's, Kentucky Fried crap, but no worse than usual. And nothing out of the ordinary was found, which tends to be a bit of a disappointment after finding pot plants, brand new shoes and bathroom scales (go figure). Check out the posts after Christmas for more details.

Anyway today I spoke to Daniel the neighbour with the silly yappy RatDog called Grizzly. He thanked me for picking up litter, and said that a couple of years back he turned the hose on a couple of guys dealing drugs outside his house. Which I think was mighty brave of him. Anyway since then the situation has improved. All during this conversation Grizzly the mighty yapdog got very agitated by the two bags I was carrying (chock full of litter) but otherwise was trying to be friendly. One of the major benefits of this mini litter crusade has been meeting the neighbours, they are all great people and equally concerned about keeping the area clean. I have high hopes for a litter retrieval posse starting up in the spring.

And what is happening in your neighbourhood? Is the litter bad? Or as clean as all get out? Am I wasting my time trying to stem the tide? Am I making the problem worse by picking up after other people ? Inquiring minds would like to know. Please drop me your comments! Oh, and if you know when I should put out the hummingbird feeder, even better....

Whoever or whatever makes crop circles like these, I say way to go. What fantastic art! This picture was taken in 2003 in a farmer's field in England, photo credit here.

Thursday, February 24, 2005

ScruffyJoe Returns

I bought some more flowers from the florist near work today. She remembered me from last week. I'm going to give her name a name now, it's Gert. She has that Gert look, dark hair, European accent, friendly but business-like, and sharp as a pin. She reported that ScruffyJoe had been back twice to try and palm off fake twenty dollar bills again. Gert shook her head and said "He must think I'm so stupid that I don't recognize him. Crazy Man".

On the BlogTrain home there was a little fair haired baby sitting on his mother's lap. He played with a small coloured plastic ball and played peek-a-boo with the other passengers. Usually you hardly get a peep out of anyone when it comes to communicating with strangers. Everyone is in their own private world. But a baby playing peek-a-boo, absolutely irresistible. The whole carriage got in on the act, smiling and waving at the child. It was charming.

HedgeRow House is not getting a Christmas Card from me.

Its almost the weekend, can't wait.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

Oh the moon shone bright...



There was a stunning full moon tonight. I could not resist getting out the camera. But being photographically challenged, it just came out as a white blob in the night sky. So I added watercolour effects to see what it would look like, and here we go.

All I can think of right now is from T.S. Eliot and I think it originally came from an Australian WWI song:

Oh the moon shone bright on Mrs. Porter
And on her daughter
They wash their feet in soda water.

Does anyone else have a favourite poem about the moon?

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

SlickPete Rides Again

There's a figure I occasionally see around town. He's in his thirties, longish dark brown hair, always wearing a black baseball cap.

I saw him again today. He was checking out the machines at Mudguard Station looking for cash. Instead of descending the escalator to catch the train, I stood as if waiting for someone, and watched him out of the corner of my eye. After a minute or two, he climbed the steps to the street. I followed him, feeling like a detective. His pace quickened dramatically as he left the station. I watched him disappear down the block and out of sight, a hunched figure in long dark overcoat.

I first encountered SlickPete about six years ago. His usual scheme is to approach you with a big smile and tell you he's trying to take the bus from GoatsHill to RocketRoad but unfortunately he's a dollar short and could you possibly help him? Well how could you not help him? He seemed absolutely genuine, a nice guy who needed a bit of change just the one time. I gave him the money. He never got on the bus. My bus came and I got on. I caught sight of him pulling the same scam on a woman who'd just arrived at the stop, and I saw her looking in her bag for some coins for him. I was furious.

I wouldn't mind so much if he just asked for spare change rather than coming out with the same old cock and bull story. Then again we have so many panhandlers on the streets, he probably finds he gets much more money using the bus journey fantasy.

Soon after that I saw him in action again, and I told his intended victim about him. SlickPete denied everything and said he hadn't seen me in his life, but he left very quickly. He didn't show up at the bus stop for quite a while after that. I saw him pull the same trick at the bus stop a couple of years later and again I confronted him in front of the other bus riders to ensure he wouldn't get any money. After issuing the usual denials, he started being abusive then harangued us that we were suckers to pay taxes.

It gets me thinking what else SlickPete gets up to when he's not trying to deceive bus riders. Where does he live and how does he get by? There are only so many times you can pull the same stunt before your face gets known. I am sure there are many people across the city who also recognise him. So today I was right on to him and he scooted. I guess that means he knows my face too..!

Monday, February 21, 2005

Bird Feeder gets relocated - Latest

A quick blog tonight. My heavens, I lead an exciting life.

Well after the feeder was installed over the deck, the local birds went berserk over it, resulting in seed being scattered all over the place. So we have relocated said feeder over the lawn. Here is a picture of the feeder.


Now we're on the lookout for a bird bath. We're going to have a veritable nature reserve in our back garden before the summer is over. Well maybe not, but its great to have your own private place where you only get intruded on by birds. Then of course I am forgetting the invasion of the mice. Well at least we don't have skunks at the moment. A friend was saying that her whole household gets frequently woken up by a SMELL. Its a family of skunks that has moved in next door. They are trying to get them relocated, but no success yet. Oh my lord, it would make you want to move house if that went on for long.

One improvement at the BlogTrain I noticed today. They have replaced the street lighting with lower intensity lamps that point downwards. New lamp posts as well. That means less light pollution especially for those who live right next to the station, hopefully these new lamps are cheaper to maintain as well.

HedgeRow House is obviously on strike. Not a sausage on the hedge.


Oh dear, she's getting carried away. Anyway for a reminder of warmer days, here is a sunflower from our garden last year. And yes the darned squirrels went nuts over this one, so it didn't last long.  Posted by Hello

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Pink Powder, Birds and The Count is ON



Well this is fun, now I can add pictures of my findings in the alleyways. These were the shoes I found the other week down by the BlogTrain...!

On a chilly, but beautiful, Saturday morning, the sun beaming, and with sense of freedom that accompanies a holiday, I ventured forth. (I always think of armies venturing forth, but I digress, back on topic.) Instantly I found a pair of black gloves, which need defrosting, and a run through the washer, before you could actually wear them. I bagged the gloves and wandered along the street, in a ridiculously cheerful mood. Someone had obviously thought : "Let's tick off Martha, and chuck away all our transit tickets" as there were literally dozens of them lying all over the place. But you know, I'm just not being put out my good mood today. I picked them all up in double quick time. No I did actually whistle cheerfully at the same time, that would be taking this Rumi-like ecstasy a tad too far.

The first major mood challenge : HedgeRow House had no garments on the hedge in front. Immense disappointment. What is going on? I should register a protest.

Further down the lane, I found a bag of white and pink powder. For a moment there I got quite excited and had visions of me tearing back home, screeching at Gregoire that I was now a Drug QueenPin. Then I noticed crudely written black writing on the bag: "Laundry powder." Maybe that was a decoy, perhaps I am supposed to think it is washing detergent. Anyway if it was crack cocaine, its now in the garbage.

There was a wicked looking hammer and a black knapsack outside Party House. I wisely stayed away from that and on the return journey, it was gone. Sometimes it is sensible not to go too close or ask any questions, but what the heck was that all about?

Having gathered all the usual litter,bagged and disposed of it, I sat down for a cup of exceedingly good tea, as one does on a Saturday morning.

In the afternoon, Gregoire and I went in search of a birdfeeder for the garden. I've always loved watching birds, and we get quite a variety of feathered friends around our deck. So off we drove, dropping in on the recycling depot to deposit a car battery and some cardboard, and we found the CrazyAboutBirds store. I nearly fainted at the prices. There's clearly quite a business in bird feeders and tables. I just can't part with eighty dollars right now to have a clever contraption that enables birds to get seeds, but shuts down when SammySquirrel tries to get in on the act. Anyway after mooching about for a few minutes, we bought a modest (un-squirrel-proof) feeder and bird seed for about twenty dollars.

We've hung it up over the deck and so far, no squirrel in sight, but delighted to report that we have a few visiting black capped chickadees. I'm a happy camper. For a while I just sat at the window and watched them swoop in, eat a tiny morsel then equally quickly, fly away. They are not used to someone watching. Doppleganger Ursula wrote to say that no birds come to feed at their bird table these days, but maybe that is understandable as there are at least two cats in the neighbourhood.

I spent time fiddling around with a Site Counter which you see on the right. It seems to work! Thankyou to everyone who visits this site, I would be highly delighted to hear from you. Any comments?

Friday, February 18, 2005

I have a doppleganger

Her name is Ursula and she wrote to say that she collects litter, and that she lives in a small village on the other side of the world. U says she picks up paper and other garbage at the crack of dawn. Why so early, I asked? Well, otherwise people confuse her with some kind of official garbage collector, and they start to bring her litter and other rubbish to take away. Now that gets my goat. I'm thinking how I would react if folks started to bring me litter at the BlogTrain station. Maybe I should just take it with good grace, after all it is helping with the clean-up. So Ursula walks the lanes in the early morning when noone is up and picks up the mess that has been left behind on the previous day. Apparently the council don't do litter pick-up at all.

U said that this week there was an inordinate volume of plastic bottles and cans beside the village common, an area of rough land where farmers let their sheep graze. She found an electronic gadget that she described to me. I looked it up on the internet and it turns out it's a cyclometer, measures mileage on a bike, and is worth about thirty dollars. I've got it now. A group of cyclists stopped for refreshments, chucked away their empty bottles. The cyclometer fell off one of the bikes. Sounds like justice to me, for all the littering. Of course I'm jumping to conclusions about the culprits again.

Ursula rang the Lost and Found number and they said if noone claims it in four weeks, its hers. She's quite excited and has ideas about getting a bike.

All this is making me feel better. Last weekend was such a mess around our neighbourhood. I was getting seriously discouraged. But somehow knowing someone else cares, over the other side of the globe, makes me want to go out there and pick up litter again in this corner of the planet.

Thursday, February 17, 2005

ScruffyJoe, a prayer and a tulip

On the way home yesterday, I stopped to buy some tulips from a vendor down the street from work. The flowers were so beautiful, in several different colours, and I was thinking they would brighten up the kitchen considerably. So I rummaged around in my bag for some cash. The tulips were popular; there were quite a few people milling about the stall.

To the right of me, I saw a gentleman waiting, almost hovering. His hair was a bit scruffy and although he wore a respectable jacket, he looked out of place. He was missing many of his front teeth. I assumed any minute ScruffyJoe was going to ask me for some spare change, as is really common in our town. I clutched my bag a little more tightly. He told the florist he wanted to buy some flowers and she told him to select any three bunches and then pay him. I berated myself for jumping to conclusions based up on how people looked, and promised to say ten Hail Marys.

I picked out three different colours : yellow, red and a lovely purple shade and got in the lineup behind ScruffyJoe to pay. SJ was in quite the jaunty mood. He told the florist he'd forgotten to buy his wife flowers the previous day (Valentine's Day) and this would make up for it. He gave her a twenty dollar bill. The florist fingered the bill at little and told him she would not accept it. The bill looked normal to me, though I was standing about four feet away. He looked taken aback, harrumphed a bit and then left, with his 20 dollar bill and no flowers. I asked her if it was a fake and she sighed and reported it was the fourth such bill she'd handled in the past week. The texture of the paper and the watermark were dead giveaways. We looked round for ScruffyJoe but he'd vanished.

She lowered her voice and said "I can always tell. I can sense it". I placed her accent to be eastern European. She went on "They wait until you're busy with other customers then try get the bill past you." Well I was thinking, that's why outside vendors don't wear gloves, even in the cold weather, so that they can feel the dollar bills. Good on you, Mrs.

I took my bunches of tulips and walked through the dreaded mall. I hate malls; they are synthetic places, heaving with faceless humanity, I find them the loneliest places on earth. I stopped in Body Shop to get some smellies for the bathroom. I then unwittingly scared the bejesus out of the staff by regaling the story of the florist, ScruffyJoe and the 20 dollar bill. The two assistants behind the till were horrified and said they wouldn't have a clue how to detect a fraudulent note. One of them wanted to know a complete description of SJ right down to how many teeth were missing. I'm thinking if there's dubious bills in circulation, sure as eggs are eggs, Scruffy won't have all of them. Mr PinStripeSuit and MissStillettoHeels could just as easily have a rake of them.

I paid the Body Shop with a couple of crisp green ones, and ambled towards the BlogTrain. I decided that I didn't need to say any Hail Mary's for misjudging ScruffyJoe but I'd throw in a Glory Be as he might need praying for anyway. But Scruffy, mark my words, I'm on the look-out for you....

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Boomerang shows us what is important

Good news. HedgeRow House has done a roaring non trade and both the red tent and granny's nickers have disappeared. Today I was faintly disappointed, whilst wandering past with two companions, that there was nothing to show them. The house, which has displayed the weird and wonderful over the past few weeks, looked distinctly mundane and normal.

Earlier I walked with Gregoire, Marjorie and her dog, Boomerang, round Egg Lake not too far from our house. The weather was spectacular, with sunny blue skies but a slight chill in the air and we ambled by the water with the snow-capped mountains in the distance and a myriad of ducks and seagulls, busily feeding and splashing in the lake. Boomerang was so excited, wanting us at every opportunity to kick the ball for him to chase and return. Well I say "ball", its been chewed to high heaven and is a hunk of plastic that does not bounce or roll in any way, shape or form. However its clearly one of B's prized possessions, so it comes along on the walk and soon gets a lot of attention. Boomerang doesn't share the ball even after being chased for several minutes by two other dogs, eager to add said "ball" to their toy collection.

I just like to watch dogs enjoying themselves, running in to the lake, scratching the earth, taking almost a childlike joy in the simplest of activities. It reminds me that it is sometimes good to view life as a child, unfettered by adult cares and worries. We're so much caught up in hectic schedules and issues over which we have no control. Time out to kick a ball and chase and catch. OK, I'm not going to go barrelling into the lake at this time of year, that's taking it a wee bit far. But you get my drift.

Switching gears a bit, Gregoire and I went in search of replacement patio doors this weekend. Ours have seen better days, and there's accumulated dirt between the double panes so we've decided to replace them. We walked down the aisle at SpendAstronomicalDosh (SAD) Hardware store and before we could say, "Those are the doors we want," we were button-holed by a SAD assistant. This was odd because usually you can never find any help in that store, for love nor money.

Well it turns out he was not your average salesman. His opening words : "You could buy them, but I really wouldn't. They have problems with leakage and in five years you'll need to replace them." This piece of honesty took us aback. Then he explained that he'd only just started there, he was really a jeweler by trade, but dammit he likes things to work and most of the windows there were not up to snuff. He pointed out a decent brand telling us where it was made and what it would tolerate or not. I got to thinking, if I ever wanted a piece of jewelry, I'd like it to be done by him. Anyway suffice to say, we got the information we wanted, didn't waste time on sub-standard windows and walked out the store, happier rather than SAD customers.

Lastly today. Kyoto. The consensus from the rest of the family is that Kyoto is so flawed that it is not worth implementing. They think it is worse than no legislation. I'm reading up on this a bit more. Until I hear that there is a compelling alternative on the table that can be signed off by all the world's major polluters, and hopefully all nations, I'm sticking with the stance that Kyoto, whilst far from perfect, is at least a start and better than no accord.

Thursday, February 10, 2005

Tents and a lot of Hot Air

I'm seeing red everywhere. Red hats, red socks, red tents. I came home earlier than usual this afternoon. As I was descending the stairs from the BlogTrain platform to the street, I saw a maroon umbrella propped up like a little tent next to the station. This is weird because this is right round the corner from HedgeRow House with its similar red contraption, that I described the other day. I was thinking this all has something to do with Chinese New Year. Or perhaps I'm drinking too much caffeine.

I've examined the red tepee at HedgeRow House from close quarters. There is a very discreet label that proclaims "FREE", which dashes my hopes that it is art moderne. The label is so small that I question the homeowner's marketing abilities, however I would agree that you don't see a tent on the top of a hedge every day of the week. There is not a manic market for give away children's tents as that darn thing has been out there for three days now and there is nary a taker in sight. I was on the other side of the road today so I didn't look too closely but there was a small white garment next to it on the hedge. I will investigate tomorrow. Probably granny's nickers again.

We have a discussion of the Kyoto accord going on in the family. I've run with it and have been talking to colleagues and friends to get other perspectives. Steady on, you weren't meant to fall asleep. What's difficult to determine is just what is fact and what is a point of view. I'm beginning to think that there is no right and wrong; there is just opinion.

The basis of the Kyoto Accord is that carbon dioxide emissions are causing global warming, that the human race is responsible for much of these emissions and the resultant climate change could occur very quickly and irreversibly. If you believe that, then it makes sense to act immediately to put in place effective legislation for all governments to enforce strict limits on CO2 emissions and seriously cut back on the burning of coal and oil. The latter makes sense anyway. What natural energy resources are going to be left for future generations if we keep up current consumption levels? None. This mirrors the gradual decimation and elimination of natural resources by humans over the ages on Easter Island except that it is now played out on a worldwide scale. More about Easter Island as a metaphor is here
http://www.primitivism.com/easter-island.htm

Even amongst the scientific community there is vast disagreement as to whether global warming is actually a problem, and if so, whether any measures would be effective anyway. I'm not in scaremongering or panic mode. Maybe I should be. The world is not going to end tomorrow. I am in favour of Kyoto because, while seriously flawed, it is at least a start. It took years to get to this point and there is no alternative global accord on the table. Get Kyoto in place and then go work on a more effective and enforceable solution. Divert funds to research efficient alternative energy sources. Get the US on board. But do something.

Well as I slowly descend from my soapbox, I wish you a pleasant night, and invite comment.

Where is my bag of truffles? The hunt is on....

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

Nails, Bones and a Tent

So here's a dangerous situation. Gregoire has gone out for the evening and I'm left free to roam the house. In front of me sits an open packet of the richest chocolate truffles you can imagine. I'm doomed.

A catch up on the litter route. I found 50-plus nails by the side of the road, some on the verge, but some right in the middle of the street. The mind boggleth. So DumpleBrain decides he / she / it doesn't want the nails. Fair enough. But then what happens to logic when they are dropped so they can cause multiple punctures and worse. God is keeping score, DumpleBrain, you mark my words.

On the walk I also found a couple of coins and the corner of a 20 dollar bill. The latter is completely useless of course as it constitutes less than a tenth of a bill. This gets me wondering what portion of a note you need to have in your hot little mits before it is considered legal tender. I'm not going to present my little triangle of paper over the bank counter as I'm sure they would laugh hysterically at me.

HedgeRow House has been pretty normal looking of late, but today it was back in the groove. This is the home where kitchen appliances, granny's nickers, you name it, are strung on top of the low hedge in front of the property. Today there was a small red teepee taking pride of place. On closer inspection it was a piece of dark red patterned material on top of three pieces of wood. I'm thinking Gregoire is spot on when he says this is modern art, even if its unintended. That's all well and good but I wish that there was a small card of explanation like they have in all the best galleries. I'm thinking of dropping that suggestion through the letterbox just for the heck of it. Maybe that's not such a good idea. I might end up sprawled upon the hedge too.

I'm reading Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold and I must admit I was completely unprepared for the first chapter where a 14 year old is recounting her own rape and murder. Its horrifying and engaging. I am captivated. A part of me feels a bit manipulated. You know something awful, perhaps gratuitous is going to happen, and you wonder if the writer is going to go there, and sure enough, she does. It reminded me of the scene in the barn where the brother has an encounter with a cow (yes, it's what you're thinking) in A Cure For Death by Lightning. I look forward to reading more of Lovely Bones, though I'm feeling some trepidation over what will be revealed next.

That's it for today. Comments and suggestions are, as always, exceedingly welcome.

Disclaimer: only three truffles were consumed during the creation of this post.

Wednesday, February 02, 2005

Ivan, crochet and fare dodging

Well, I just read the news. Ivan Noble, the BBC Science correspondent died of a brain tumour on Monday. I just stared at the screen when I saw the headline on the BBC website this morning. I am sad. I've mentioned him in a couple of blog entries, and a link to his diary is in last Thursday's blog. 37 years old, he leaves a wife and two very young kids. His diary has been an inspiration to many. I've been following it for about a year. I heard his voice for the first time today, in a fairly recent interview he did for the BBC. Straight away his enthusiasm and intensity comes across. I should think they will keep his diary online for some time to come. A collection of his diary entries is due to be published later in the year. Good night, Ivan.

There was a woman sitting next to me today on the blog train. She was knitting. No that's not the word. Crocheting. She was creating what looked like a baby's shawl with beautifully soft looking white wool. Her fingers were going a mile a minute, just a blur. What amazed me was that she was looking out the window at the time, paying no attention to all the activity round her fingers. I haven't put a crochet needle to good use since I was knee high to a grasshopper. I'm thinking it might be fun to try again one of these dark winter evenings.

One good thing to report on the BlogTrain. There is much more evidence of security these days and inspectors are checking tickets left, right and centre. I have no problem at all with that. Its about time too. Unfortunately a lot of people have been seeing the BlogTrain as a free ride, so have been dodging fares. Which means that we all end up paying more in our taxes to subsidize fare dodgers rather than improvements and extensions to the service. This evening as I was leaving the station, some people were running up the steps to catch the train, and then equally quickly running down again when they saw the inspector waiting for them.

The BlogTrain will never make a profit. That's not the point. But at least those who use it, should pay their fares to contribute to the cost of running the bally thing. Unless we say, to heck with it, its keeping enough people off the roads, saving a lot of fuel, and helping to protect the environment, so maybe we make it free. No that doesn't work, as we'd have to make the buses free too, and I haven't even got round to mentioning the BlogBoat.

So I wish we had a better mechanism of enforcing payment. Sure it would be fantastic to have a honours system with everyone voluntarily buying a ticket. Sadly its just not practical or workable. I think the BlogTrain powers that be have looked at options but at this time an automated system is too expensive to implement. Other countries have it, why not us? Darn shame if you ask me.