I Guess Birds Can Read After All

The baby birds on our deck have grown by leaps and bounds. After a bit of research, I have concluded that these are Carolina wrens. Here are a few pics from their first day on the planet. The books say they leave the nest 12-16 days after hatching, but that’s really hard to believe.

Click to enlarge. I’m hoping the gallery format makes load time much faster for my readers, but the thumbnails are way too tiny to show any real detail.

Day 1

So hungry!

There are a ton of birds in here!

Mom and Dad always bounce over to my window to announce their departure, as if to say “Hey, we’re going out for a bit. Can you watch the kids for us?” That’s my cue to get the camera.

Day 5 – the first time we can clearly see that there are 5

Day 7 – feathers are appearing

Day 8 – Feathers are filled in. Look at the light feathers under the throat.

Day 9 They are so quiet. They never make noise.

Day 12 I wonder if they’ve read the nature books that say they’re supposed to fledge in a couple of days.

Day 13 I guess they got their eviction notice.

 

This will likely be my sole venture with birds this summer. They grow far too quickly to keep up with. I’ll be returning to my previously scheduled reptilian program shortly. Very shortly.

 

Dear Haters

Dear Hater,

I read this post yesterday about Stephen King’s latest book release, and at first the quotes contained in it made me mad. And then it broke my heart. Because some of you are really mean, but also because you may find 10 years down the road that you’ve changed your mind, and you’re really putting your foot in it. Like I did.

I used to be like you. I thought I was open-minded, too. But at the same time, I thought my way was the only way, that anyone who thought differently was a loser wrong. And then I met sj, and my eyes were opened.

It didn’t happen overnight. We’ve been pals for over three years now, and it took almost that long before I would even hear her out, and even longer for me to admit that she was right. But she is. I am here to confess. I’ve gone over to the dark side. I love my e-reader.

I should have trusted her sooner. She had, after all, brought such delights as Firefly and Ready Player One into my life and changed my heart forever. But I am nothing if not stubborn.

When we first started talking, she’d mention her e-reader and how awesome it was. I did the smile-and-nod that you do when you’re pretty convinced that people are idiots misguided, but you’re too polite to say. We had discussions about reading pretty often because she and I spend a large number of our free time with our noses in a book. Well, my nose was in a book, hers was in a stupid electronic device. Not a book.

God help me, I felt like I was somehow superior. Because I read actual, physical books. I used to be you, hater.  I was better. I loved books more than those people tied to electronic devices. I loved the smell of books, the feel of books, the blah-blah-blah.

And then somehow it happened. Talking to sj one day, I actually experienced a moment of envy. Through NetGalley, she had access to all kinds of advance reader copies of incredible books. What? Books I couldn’t have? NO! I made it a goal to acquire a device of my own. Two hours later, I came home from the used bookstore with a Kobo I had purchased with trade credit.

I wasn’t hooked immediately. I read a few things, did a review for sj’s blog on something she hadn’t gotten around to reading yet. But over time, I’ve come to depend on my little Kobo. It’s nothing fancy. I can’t play Angry Birds or surf the net on it. It’s just for reading. And here’s a secret. In some ways, it’s better than a regular book. 

When I was ill recently, I lost some of the use in my hands. Whenever I went out for a walk, I’d return home to find my arms were too weak to even hold my e-reader, much less a hefty book. But I could prop that Kobo on a pillow and use one finger to poke the page-turner. When my eyes get wonky, I can actually change the font. So I can still read. And I currently carry 200 books with me at a time. In my purse. Need to disappear into Avonlea? I’m all set. Want to get cracking on the latest book for review? It’s right there.

Lest you dismiss the e-reader as a device for the disabled, I’ll tell you why I don’t have my e-reader all the time. My 10 year old steals it so he can use a flashlight and read under the covers at night. To him, it’s technology. It’s the future, and it’s exciting.

I think the quote contained in that post that gets under my skin the most is this:

“To those complaining about the fact that King didn’t release it on e-book, quit your whining. Reading an actual book (not a screen) is FUN. As an adult now with kids of my own who love to read, ebook are strictly for school or literary emergencies (only real book lovers know what I mean) in our house. Holding a book in your hand, cracking the spine, creasing the corners, getting water wrinkles on the pages from falling asleep with it on your chest while you float around the pool… It’s all part of the charm. If you have to have it explained, you wouldn’t understand anyway.”

It bugs me because, while I was never quite that sanctimonious, I once had similar views, and I’m embarrassed. Hater, let me dissuade you of the notion that only people who read paper books exclusively love books more, that it has to be either/or.

Three of these shelves are mine.

All mine!

I look at this image and think “Where are my books? I need more books!”

So don’t go there. It makes you sound narrow-minded. And elitist. And more than a little silly. I know. Because I was you.

Fortunately, books are not as judgmental as the people who read them. Harry Potter doesn’t care if I am turning a page or pressing a button. He welcomes me. So does Anne of Green Gables. And Tom Sawyer. And all my other friends. They’re happy to see me no matter how I got there.

And as for e-readers just being for literary emergencies, I don’t know about you, but my whole life is one big literary emergency. Waiting in line to pick up my kids, riding in the car when my husband is driving, all those times when I am dying of boredom. I no longer have to hope my husband hasn’t cleared out all my car-books. Because I have an entire library with me.

So hater, I invite you to open your mind a little bit, to see that your way isn’t the only way. I don’t expect you to believe me right now because you’ve just made a horse’s patoot our of yourself and are pretty much wed to your opinion. For now. But maybe one day you’ll decide to dabble on the electronic side. And we’ll be here to welcome you.

This post is much longer than I intended for it to be,  so I’ll end it here. With an apology. I’m sorry for ever doubting you, sj. You were the rightest. You always are.

Signed,

The Convertedest Convert in the History of Conversion

 

Cue Organ Music

My recovery is going pretty well. I’ve had to get serious about my diagnosis and make some changes in my life. Some days I’ve got all the energy in the world to tackle this mess. Those days, I’m all “I am woman, hear me concentrate on a high carb diet, get serious about my exercise program, drink gallons of water and avoid alcohol and prescription meds.” Sorry, Helen. Other days, I’m bored with it and am ready to try out a new disease. Today is one of those days.

A few weeks ago, my doctor set out to try to find a specialist in my particular disorder, no easy feat when you consider that fewer than 1 in 20,000 have Acute Intermittent Porphyria. But she found one. Yay, right?! And it’s only about four hours from here rather than 8. Another yay! They had to send all my records to this guy to see if I qualify to see him without more expensive testing.. It’s like sorority Rush Week. Fingers crossed that I’m considered AIP material, girls! My mom has the genetic marker, so I should be, like, a legend, right? No pushing pennies down the hall with my nose. Or peeing in yet another cup.

So then a whole lot of nothing happened. I assume that the various offices involved communicate via carrier pigeon because there was a lot of waiting. Until last week. My doctor’s nurse called me and said they wanted me to come back in for a follow up. I love my doctor, but her nurse is a bit off-putting. He takes himself too seriously. It’s rather like having a discussion with Dr. Drake Ramoray.

I asked him if he had heard from the specialist yet. There was a long pause. “Yes,” he said slowly, after a long pause. “That’s exactly what we need to talk to you about. We will see you on Tuesday.”

I would not have been at all surprised if he had told me the specialist was my half-brother and he is pregnant with my child. I rolled my eyes so hard I may have sprained them. But I’ll play along. Everybody needs their little dramas.

Will I be number one pledge this Rush Week? Will we find out if I need more pokes and prods to get the coveted appointment? Will the nurse discover his evil twin has stolen his identity and purchased a dozen toy poodles? Stay tuned!

 

 

The One Where I Keep a Promise. And Use the Word Bowels.

You may remember that sj and I started a book club, one you might even want to join. Welcome to the first official meeting. From the Bowels of Obscurity Children’s Book Club is now in session!

It has been a while. I had big plans, but then I got sick and was too concerned with my actual bowels and various other body parts to do much with a book club. But I’m back, baby, and I’m ready to roll!

Anyone is welcome to join. It’s easy to participate. Have some favorite books from childhood? You can either write a post, or share with us in the comments. If you write a post of your own and include pingback by including a link to this post, your post link will appear at the bottom of this one, and we’ll be able to find and read other participating blogs.

I’m not big on rules, but the main one is that the books you track back should be ones you read as a kid. There are tons of great books hitting shelves everyday. This club is for dusting off the old ones that might have gotten buried. Unless you are an actual kid, under 18, in which case you are free to share your more recent faves.

And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for! *insert drum roll here*

First book like this I ever read.

When I was a kid, I read the old standbys. I devoured Superfudge and rolled around in the Ramona series. But I also liked stalking the shelves for books none of my classmates had read. There was nothing I loved more than finding a book that hadn’t been checked out in ten years. This was one. I may, in fact, have been the only kid to ever check it out.

It was my first real taste of historical fiction, taking place at the very beginning of the Great Depression. That’s all I can tell you without giving too much away. This book still gives me chills. I gave an oral book report on it, and I got my first B+ because the teacher thought I gave away the ending. Little did she know.

I love this book. We received it in the mail from Weekly Reader. I remember my mom tucking me in bed and reading it to me. The words were simple, and the illustrations were adorable.

Fast forward 35 years and all my experience with dogs and the adult in me is shocked to pieces! <spoiler alert> What do you mean Milton knocked up the Great Dane next door?! He’s a year old! Anybody ever heard of hip dysplasia? Has he CERF’d? What about his patellas? Get responsible when you breed, people! Oh, yeah. I found a copy to read to my kids. Because it’s still precious.

And last, but definitely not least:

My favorite time in elementary school was library time. Long after we had graduated from picture books, our librarian found great things to read to us. This was one.

It’s the story of two brothers growing up in the Ozarks. Since the library only had one copy, none of us were allowed to check it out during the six weeks or so she was reading it to us. Waiting to get my hands on it nearly killed me. I was first on the list to check it out. I squirreled it away in my backpack and rushed home to savor every tidbit in my own comfortable bed.

I found the sequel at the public library, and it was like my birthday had come early. It’s as delicious as the original, but freakishly hard to find. I made a few half-hearted bids for it on Ebay over the years, but my limit was $30, which was over a hundred bucks shy of the winning bid every time. Imagine my surprise when I discovered a copy in the free bin at my favorite used book store.

If there’s a book you’re looking for, keep wishing. It will hear your heart and come find you one day.

Now it’s your turn! What’s on your favorites list? Don’t feel pressured to get them all in one post. I haven’t even scratched the surface of personal favorites. We can pace ourselves!

Some folks are way ahead of the game and have already shared some of their childhood favorites with us. Be sure to check them out!

Meet Nerija. Check out her reviews here and here.

And there’s Amy, who shared some goodies with us over at sj’s place!

And last but not least, pay a visit to M and to see her favorite kids’ books!

 

If you’re on Goodreads, you are welcome to join the club over there, too! Click the widget over on the bottom left. It will take you there.

 

Nekkid Chicks

No, you’re not in the wrong place. It’s still a family blog.

Look what I found yesterday in a cooler on my back porch.

What a strange bundle of leaves. And a strange location. That’s a little soda cooler.

A closer look? Okay, then.

Click to enlarge. The gallery pics show up tiny, but the photos themselves have some great detail. I love my new camera!

Feed me! Feed me!

Note how the mother has lined the nest with fur.

They look like tiny Thanksgiving turkeys.

Note the unusual construction of the nest. It’s a cavity and on its side rather than the typical bowl-shape.

My mother has a great deal of experience with birds, and she believes that they have just hatched, and she’s probably right. There’s not a single feather on these little nekkid chicks! I am trying to figure out the species. It’s a tiny one. I know because mother bird and I scared the poop out of one another, and she flew right by my head.

I love that she has built her nest inside a cooler. The temperature will stay nice and cozy without getting too hot. Who says they are bird-brains? And here’s proof that most birds have a poor sense of smell. I use that cooler to feed a snake.

*    *   *

On a totally different note, I am preparing my first review post for our awesome children’s book club. It should go live on Monday. If you have already done a post about a favorite kids’ book, send the link to me so I can include it in the post. If you want to do one, include a link to Monday’s post somewhere in yours, and a link to your post will appear as a trackback. That way we can all find each other’s awesome children’s reads.

Also, you are welcome to click the Goodreads widget in the right hand column and join the club On Goodreads. Until that site is completely taken over by Amazon Zombies same diff a huge, multinational corporation and we are forced to hold meetings in my playhouse. I’ll make the gingerbread.

 

Nearly Wordless – Wait, What Day Is It Again?

I always get a little discombobulated when we have a holiday. In my mind, it’s Saturday, which normally means no post at all. But I’m a giver.

I know it says nearly wordless, and look! Words! Bear with me. I got a new camera. It isn’t super-expensive or anything, but it’s my first dSLR, and it is intimidating. The how-to guide is 400 pages. I tried it a few times with little success. I hate things that prove that I am make me feel stupid, so I put it back in the box and continued to use my little camera. Until yesterday. I sent my little camera with my daughter on her mission trip and picked up the 400 page manual. I made it 25 pages, and then I gave up and just started taking pictures. I am in love.

Click to enlarge.

The girl-child. No flash means no blink. The best pic I have of her this year!

‘Nuff said, right?

A little privacy, please? I’m taking a bath here!

Note the tongue. It is always out. Always. Makes her look so smart!

River the Kenyan Sand boa. Click it to enlarge. She is telling me she’s hungry by waiting to ambush anything that crosses her path.

This is Jasper the Rosy boa grabbing a bite to eat.

 

And then there are these. Click to enlarge them, too.

This was taken through glass. With a flash.

Look at how they are growing! More yellow is appearing on their shells. It will be interesting to see their patterns as adults.

Outside in the sunshine, collecting vitamin D and a little snack.

This photo was taken from a few inches away. I like the results. I can’t wait to go to the zoo to try it out!

Hmm. Guess what? Nash and Navi aren’t both girls after all. Check out the V shapes just above their tails. See how different they are?

And we went to see my friend’s puppies last night. I’ll leave you with this.

You’re welcome.

 

 

 

Is This On Your Summer Reading List?

I am really getting into the NetGalley ARC thing. I pick some books that look like a good fit for my brain, I get sent an advance reader copy for free. I read it. I review it. I have nothing to lose, right?

Yesterday I reviewed Amity & Sorrow by Peggy Riley over at sj’s place. If it’s on your summer reading list, stop over and check it out. If you’ve read the book already, what did you think?

 

I love this cover. But…

spoiler alert: There’s an image on my review that I may one day come to regret. I’m pretty sure of that, actually.  I invite you to post a similar image of your own. So I’m not alone out there.

 

 

The Worst of It

All in all, I’d have to say my recovery from my recent bout of illness is going pretty well, but it would be wrong to assume that I am completely unchanged. I’m not quite the person I once was. I’m a little weirder. I knew that it could happen. This disorder doesn’t discriminate between bodily systems. It’s an equal opportunity annoyer, but exactly how annoying came as a surprise.

The world is smaller, tiny, even. Someone has clearly been messing with the settings on my computer because I can no longer read my regular fonts. The same tricky little turd has also shrunk the labels on my medication bottles and every, single one of my books. I can’t read anything easily anymore.

I can’t keep my kids straight, either. I call the Padawan “Squish” and vice versa, and I call Girl-child by the cat’s name. I am unsure if this loss of cognitive function is entirely related to my illness, or if I’m just becoming my grandmother. Fortunately the kids are quick studies and have learned to respond to “Whatever your name is.” I’m thinking of having it embroidered on their Christmas stockings.

My spelling has gone to heck in a hand basket. I can’t quite orient myself on a keyboard, and often I look up and find that my brilliant treatise contains far more z‘s and x‘s than one might expect to find outside of Eastern Europe. The proper letters may even be there, but they are in a creative completely unrecognizable order. I’m trying to pass it off as Olde English. Are you buying?

I used to be modest. I wouldn’t even go barefoot in front of company. Now when we take a walk, it’s my husband’s responsibility to keep me from taking my pants off when the waistband of my shorts chafes my scarring and I forget that I’m standing in the school yard. When he says “For God’s sake, woman, put your clothes on! Think of the children!”  I understand he’s not rejecting me, he’s trying to keep me from getting arrested. It’s sweet, really.

But the worst of it is that for the first time in thirty years, I’m confusing my homophones. I don’t know if it’s a problem with visual perception, but I am no longer certain which word to use. They all look right write rite correct to me. A few times,  I have almost had to email sj to ask her if I had chosen the correct one when I was writing. Don’t ask me to take a high school English class right now because I would fail.

This too shall pass, right? But in the meantime, if you happen to be driving down the street and see some myopic old lady in her underwear, it’s probably me. Be sure to say “High!”

 

Nearly Wordless Wednesday: Nature Is Weird

Remember my best decorating scheme ever? Things are happening there.

Click to enlarge. It’s insane!

Is she being eaten by parasitic aliens?

No, I think that lump is a LEG! Note how it’s eyes have moved to the top of it’s head.

Four days later, she has shed her skin, leaving her tail looking like a Labrador puppy’s. She is absorbing the tail, and she gets nutrients from it, so she won’t eat until it is absorbed.

The other tadpole. No real development here. For the moment, I’m calling it Pee Wee Herman.

 

My kid has the coolest teacher. Look what else is growing in her classroom!

Note the egg tooth on the end of its beak. The kids got to watch them hatch, too!

 

The One Where I Shock My Readers

You opened the post. I’m so glad I didn’t scare you away. Do you ever find comfort in the sameness of things, of knowing exactly what to expect, be it reading a blog or ordering your same vanilla latte every Friday morning from the same employee at the same little coffee shop? Yeah, me, too. And sometimes you walk in to that coffee shop on a Thursday, or that familiar face has been replaced by someone you’ve never seen before, and it’s jarring. The safe place has been compromised. Brace yourselves. The battlements have been breached.

You come here to see this:

Pyxis planicauda. One of the rarest of the Malagasy dwarf tortoises. Critically endangered. Hatched this week. You’re welcome.

 

But today, I bring you this. Click to enlarge them. I double-dog dare you!

Ears are closed

He is the only one who’s not black, so he is usually referred to as “White Boy.” I call him Vanilla Ice and expect he’ll play that funky music.

At the lunch counter

Black puppies are hard to photograph!

This is the little one. He’s tiny, and he doesn’t have a fingernail polish mark on his head. Small? Unmarked? I call him Bill.

 

I know. They’re mammals, not reptiles. Sometimes I need to shake things up.  I do hope you’ll forgive me.

 

*** Just so’s you know, these aren’t my puppies. I have the privilege of puppy-sitting for a friend. Photographing newborn puppies? Sure, twist my arm, why don’t you?