Just Pure Lovely

First Pony Ride

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"Baby"

Photographed (by me) in 2005.

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The Chicks

~ Spring 2008 ~ 

~ Spring 2009 ~

Grow slowly, Baby Girl.

xo,

Mama

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Pnut's Story

Remember the stray dog who found his way to us sometime in February?

Sure, he looks good from the back, but he's a pretty ugly fella sometimes...

But when he looks at me just so...

...good gravy, when he looks at me like that he can come into the house in any ol' rainstorm. 

We adored the old fella for the four months he needed us.  We waited in the mornings while he worked out the kinks in his old legs, we looked the other way when he was unable to fight the urge to chase a cat harmlessly up a tree on occasion, we tolerated his ever-present, always-disgusting slobber, and..yes...I let him in the laundry room during thunderstorms because he's such a big baby about such things. I couldn't resist his whine and his sad eyes. 

In return, he never bothered to so much as sniff at the chicken pen, he 'marked' our yard against other dogs, and he hung out with the kids while they swam in the river. 

You probably caught that I said, "for the four months he needed us."  Pnut doesn't need us anymore.

One day, about a month ago, one of our neighbors came by and said, "Pnut's owner came calling for him." 

"Oh?" I said.  In my mind, I called the fella a dirty rotten scoundrel, since he never picked Pnut up after I'd phoned him in February. 

"Yeah.  He said he was working on an engine in February when it blew up in his face.  He's been in Thomas Hospital for the past three months, with 2nd and 3rd degree burns." 

Oh.  Poor guy.

I'm thankful Pnut turned to us when he needed care for those few months.  But I'm even more thankful he keeps coming around.

We see him a couple of times a week, when he runs at us with floppy ears, a floppier mouth and crooked gait, as excited to see us as we are to see him.  And then he's off again, across the river or down the road, on his persistent journey to experience all there is to sniff and see.

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Puff

I found this in an old notebook. It was jotted down on April 25, 2008, almost a year ago ~

We were really enjoying Puff today, our ballerina and I.   Puff is a newborn duckling who has had some kind of lack of balance since birth. She walks like a drunk and even swims crookedly. 

Our ballerina put Puff  in a bin of water this morning in the sunlight and - oh! - she swam and swam and swam.  Sometimes she swam in a circle so quickly that she was an awkward duck-ballerina and would then fall backwards onto her back, little duck feet flailing, but soon she'd roll over and swim in circles again.

As Puff swam in the morning light, she was full of giddy ducky happiness.  It was so contagious that we were soon giggling - no, belly-laughing - at her. We talked of how we'd ever be able to walk away.  Puff  "fusses" at us if we leave her side. QUACK QUACK QUACK!  She is the loudest thing on the wee farm whenever we walk away from her. When we get close again, she chirps a sweet little tweet-tweet from her nostrils, not her mouth.

Our ballerina offered, with no prodding needed, to sit on the back stoop just to be in Puff's company so the little duck will stop fussing. Staying with Puff is no sacrifice.  She's so cute to watch, swimming, crookedly, collecting bits of grass in her mouth, wobbly, in the morning sun.

I find myself lingering, too.  Not every day do you see such contagious giddy ducky happiness.

~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight we lost Puff. She finally lost her battle to live.  We had a feeling she'd never make it, but we're still so sad.  Still, even though it meant that losing her is harder to take, I'm thankful for this morning...for our sweet moments with our little Puffy in the morning sunlight.

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The Great Backyard Bird Count

Awesome!  I have a legitimate excuse for posting more bird photos once more (despite the frequent bird postings lately, this is still not becoming a bird blog, got it?). 

The Great Backyard Bird Count is going on now.  You may count the birds you see today and tomorrow (2/16, 2/17) in your area, submit them online at the Great Backyard Bird Count site, then pat yourself on the back and feel all researchy because you just helped scientists with their data. 

No time?  Bah!  All you need to do is sit still for 15 minutes and count the birds that you see during that span of time.  Or...do it like I do and don't sit still, but instead and count the ones you see outside the kitchen window (the photos below), on the fishing pier (tonight we saw 2 Great Blue Herons),  or at the beach (this afternoon, where we saw the hundreds of seagulls we mostly did not feed  - why do they tell their hundreds of cousins to come, too?  Why not just be stingy and thus less annoying?)

Here are the visitors of the little tree outside our kitchen...

Red-bellied Woodpecker



Bluejay


Cardinal

Let me know if you join me in the Great Backyard Bird Count and definitely tell me if you've posted photos of the birds you see.  I want to visit your not-a-bird-blog, too!

 

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P'Nut

This fella...

...has decided to stick around.

He showed up a few weeks ago and we shooed him away. There are a lot of dogs in our country neighborhood, with (sigh) only one or two ever on a leash.  There are no fenced-in yards between our big country lots, so we tend to shoo away any and all dogs since I want the chickens and the cats to life scare-free lives (that reason, and that I don't much like dog poop on my children's barefeet). 

One morning my man shooed this dog away with extra gusto.  He hung his head and disappeared into the woods along the river and we went on with our day.  A couple of hours later, we were working in the front yard (okay...him: working; me: working on watching him work) when our ballerina said, "Daddy, that dog's got guts"  (I know. The grammar.)  The dog was laying by my van, not far away from us.

There was something about the dog's dejected, lonely, hungry look that I started to wonder about him.   I called him over, and he came after a good bit of coaxing (I'd been shooing him away, remember). 

On his collar was a phone number, so I called it and a man answered.  I asked if he was missing a dog.  He didn't really want to define it as "missing," but, yes, he owned a dog named "P'nut" (the name on the collar) which he hadn't seen for a long while. 

I looked at P'nut's protruding ribs and his starving-skinny belly with the hipbones sticking out, and the whole skinniness making his head look abnormally large. 

"He's hungry," I said, "He looks real skinny."

The fella on the phone had an aw-he's-alright tone as he said, "He goes across the river sometimes.  I guess he's finding a female.  We'll get him."

I gave directions to our house. 

It's been three weeks since.  P'nut is still here.

We fed him cat food for the first 2 days, since that's all we had and we didn't think the owner would delay.  I'd said the dog looked hungry, after all, wouldn't that let the owner know to hurry? 

Finally, on Day 3, we bought dog food for it.  We're now down to the last 1/4 of the bag.  His hipbones aren't as pokey; his ribs are less noticeable.

For the first week, P'nut slept a lot.  The first two days, he didn't have the energy to do more than lift his head unless we really begged him to move. 

After the first week, he barked for the first time - at 4am.  I'd have preferred 4pm for P'nut to find his voice, but 4am will do.  I'm happy his strength is returning.

He's not pretty, but he ignores the cats, he lets the chicken live in peace, he sleeps on the back porch rug, and he doesn't jump or lick.

He's welcome to stay as long as he needs us.  I sorta' like the ugly fella.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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The Bluebird

My internet connection has apparently decided to get old and slow, so for a few days it has been hard to check email, much less upload photos.  Hard, as in, painstaking, since waiting on computers to do their thing is not an area in which I'm particularly patient.  That's my excuse for leaving you without a post yesterday (so sorry!).

Now that I can finally post, I hesitate to share more bird photos, as this is still not a bird blog, but, you see, I simply cannot resist this fella...

I have waited two years to get a shot of a bluebird. Two years!  I missed catching them with the camera one year, and the second year none came to our little tree.  Yesterday morning, when our little guy came running down the hallway, shouting that my favorite bird is in the low tree outside the kitchen window (the one we encourage birds to visit by keeping the feeders full and the cats away), I was relieved to find my camera battery charged and even more relieved to find a curious yet tolerant model.

I wish I could rub him against my cheek and give him a little squeeze, don't you?  What a beauty!  He thought of moving into the birdhouse,

but I'd rather he didn't.  I'm not sure we can keep the cats away 24/7 and nothing would be sadder than seeing our little bluebird hurt. 

Do bluebirds come your way in the Spring?  If so, I think this is a hopeful Springy sign for you!   They don't stay with us - he'll be on his way to make someone else happy in a month or two.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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(By the way, please feel free to correct me on "him," "bluebird," and on how he/it travels.  I'd love to know more details!)

This Isn't Becoming a Bird Blog, I Promise

How many birds do you see? 

We call these "house wrens," (updated: oops, "sparrows" now, thanks to a smartie who corrected me!), but I have no idea if we're right.  I have always loved the sounds of birds, and if I saw one, I'd always say, "Oh, look!" but I've never been a binoculaur-and-ornithology-guide toting type of gal.  

But ever since I got my telephoto lens for my camera, a year ago, my eyes have really opened up to how beautiful birds really are.  I hope you don't mind the bird photos lately.  This won't become a bird blog, I promise.  Especially not after many of our little friends fly away to see our Northern friends when the winds change and it's a bit warmer up there.   That's part of the appeal of the Winter season's birds to me...we're going to have to say 'goodbye' soon; I want to capture their visit while I may.

If you are living in a birdless part of the cold North, I want you to know that your birds - at least, the birds that come here to the Gulf Coast - are okay.  Saturday, I drove across the Alabama-Florida border and along the way were literally hundreds of robins in the dormant farm fields.  They don't have bright breasts in the winter, but they are fat and they look happy. 

We're taking good care of your birds.

(p.s. I took photos of house wrens sparrows, but I'm not sure if house wrens - or whatever they are (sparrows!) , are among those who leave us in the Spring.  See what a poor ornithologist I make?  I do like that long word, though. I'd wear it as a title proudly, if I could only learn to live up to it.)

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Have a Good Weekend. Indoors. It's Cold.

We're not out here today, at the Bay. 

That was taken on Tuesday, when it was warmer.  Today it's Friday, and it's cold. 

It's 40 degrees fahrenheit for the high.

The kids think that's too cold to be outdoors.  I think, posh, Northern kids would call that Spring, and kick them out anyway. 

The kids do look sort of miserable, so I have pity on them and let them back in again.  Maybe it is a bit cool for Florida babies who are 90% of the time barefoot, don't own a jacket warmer than a windbreaker and can never find 2 gloves, if we even have 2 gloves around here.  Do gardening gloves count?

I wonder if the seagulls are okay.

My man, who was born and raised in Chicago, thinks it's silly to worry about the birds.  I, who was born and raised much more South of Chicago, think birds don't look very fat, so they must be very cold indeed.  

I worry that my chickens will freeze to death when it dips below 32F, like tonight, which will be 29.  He says, "Lori.  There are chickens in Illinois, too, you know." 

Still.  I'm sure I'll get up at least once or twice to check.

I hope you are warmer.  Have a good weekend!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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