Ajar

A gallon jar sits on a dresser.

Cool, clear, green, a little dusty, a flaw here and there

But lovely in its way.

It's filled with pennies, almost to the brim.

Their dates represent many years, some have stems of wheat on the back, strange mint marks, and dates before, behind, and between.

Some glow brightly, fresh-minted, and warm pinky copper, shining like small sunshine in heaps inside the jar.

Something moves.

Something changes.

The jar is shifted, teeters, tips. Pennies fall from its wide mouth. First a few, then a dozen, next a hundred and a cascade.

They roll and flow across the dresser, some dropping to the floor and bouncing away across the carpet. Some lying where they fall. The jar tips farther and farther until it falls right over. The last of the pennies tumble to the floor with a noisy clinking tinkle.

The jar crashes down upon them and splinters into tiny pieces, scattered on the floor.

Oh no!

Where once there was a familiar container full of tokens of value, some prettier than others but all of worth to the owner, there is now only chaos. Nothing familiar. Nothing normal. Nothing right.

Hard not to be daunted by what will be required to make things better.

Not the same. The jar is gone forever. 

But at least better.

You may find all the pennies, even if you have to get down on your knees. Even if you must move the dresser and sweep under the bed you will find most of them. You will have to work around the bits of glass, pick them up ever so carefully, and find a way to put them out of your life.

But the jar is gone.

Maybe you will find a new one, clear glass, or perhaps painted with a pretty pattern. Maybe a piggy bank. Maybe you will roll all those pennies, take them to the bank and turn them in for folding money to tuck away in a drawer.

No matter what, everything will be changed when it is done.

Everything. 

And that is how these days feel to me. Life still has its pennies, bright ones, wonderful wheat pennies to be saved in the saki bowl on the mantel, shiny new ones fresh from the mint, but they are mixed with what feels like shattered glass and sharp edges, in no clear pattern and with no clear plan.

Good thing there are still birds....or I would really be getting crazy.

NAY-pril

This is NOT April.

April is a month of new baby birds, fresh bright flowers, and balmy spring breezes.

At least in theory.

However, April was hijacked.

This is a stone b*tch of a month dug from some ancient calendar of horrors sent to make staying home more fun. Shudder.

Also the longest month in history. Usually first of the month bills race up to the checkbook finish line, out of breath and palms extended. This year they just keep moving the goal posts.

I suppose that is a good thing. Sorta.

That is all.

Thank you.

The Straws

That broke the collective lock down backs seem to have been boat launches and golf courses.

It appeared to me all through this that our illustrious goobernor wanted a new headline every week, "Look what I'm doing to save you!" so each week he announced yet another stricture in the lives of his subjects. Many of them were fairly sensible and sensible people were probably adhering to them anyhow.......

However, there were some that were plumb senseless. Golf courses had been left open, as most people are able to observe recommended distances while whacking little white balls in the great outdoors. The ones who weren't going to follow those concepts probably weren't doing so anywhere else either.

Same with boat launches. The boss and I visit a boat launch pretty near every day, preferably early in the morning when the birds are out and the people aren't. 

Although marinas were one of the early things closed boat launches were still okay until last week's go round of new rules and regulations. It was disconcerting in the extreme to meet a ranger going into the park as we were going out....would we have been in trouble for birding? Dunno, but it was a concern and an unnecessary added stress.

Anyhow, talk about a tipping point. Or a back breaking straw if you prefer. Most of my Facebook experience up to the boat and white ball strictures consisted of people arguing mildly and calling each other stupid, but in a routine, this is Facebook after all, sort of way.

After the boat launch/golf course thing I was invited to join a number of secret protest groups full of rabid people who were really, really, really outraged about the deal. Memes popped up like dandelions in a shaggy lawn. And yes, I did join the groups, but soon had to hide most of their output as it was just more people calling each other stupid only in an angrier sort of way.

There was no joy in Upstateville to put it mildly.

I predicted, aloud so I have witnesses, that the first things reopened again had better be boat launches and golf courses and that it had better happen in the next couple of days or there would be an uprising and good ideas would go down with the bad..

Lo and behold.....look what happened.

Sometimes there is nothing like a swift backpedal, or should I say backpaddle, to calm restless waters.....

Know Your Farmer

Not to be an alarmist or anything.... I hate to spread possibly unnecessary concerns. 

However, I've been getting a teeny tiny bit worried. In light of the recent closures and partial closures of so many US protein processing plants, now might be a good time to get to know your local farmer.

We've been trying, since we sent our own last beef cow to the processor, to purchase local beef whenever we can.  Some farms sell their products by the cut or pound, which is how we prefer to buy. Others sell shares or standard packages of assorted cuts. Chicken and pork can be a little problematic to find, but many farmers raise and process beef cows, oftentimes having it USDA inspected and certified. Many farms also sell lamb. I haven't purchased lamb locally yet, but I'll bet you it is a lot better quality than store bought.

Prices we've paid for beef are sometimes a little higher than store retail, but quality usually is better as well. We just bought a few pounds of locally-grown hamburger last night, plus to our great good fortune our boy and his wife shared some meat from their last beefer with us. 

If we have the choice we buy meat that has been cryovacced, as it keeps for a really long time. We are still eating a few cuts off our last cow and she was processed a couple of years ago. 

Another thing we have been doing routinely for a couple of years is buying whole pork loins instead of pork chops. It's a simple matter to cut your own chops to the thickness you prefer and is usually much cheaper. Then package and freeze. Loin quality is uniformly excellent, and there are no bones. Bones in chops increase the price you pay per pound of edible food. No waste with boneless.

Anyhow, if you happen to be reading this and sell homegrown meat retail, please feel free to leave a link in the comments. I have a feeling there may soon be plenty of customers.

Dawn Chorus Salute

Came downstairs to a robin quartet, all caroling in unison. Shadows laced the walls around me, reflecting thoughts of super moons and terrible losses.

To find that they were not projected by the moon but rather by work lights down on the Thruway.

There was no moon.

It's raining.

The song goes on and and on though, chickadees summer calling, Carolina Wren rhymes, a distant train mourning in deep whistles.

All singing and crying for John Prine I think. And the rain is tears. 

He wrote so much in beauty and meant so much to our family back in the days when my brother Michael and I played music together at family gatherings, him lending his beautiful voice and amazing talent to all, me playing backup just a little.

Paradise has long been one of my father's favorites and he always asked to hear it. For me it was Angel from Montgomery. I still love that song, even though arthritis stopped me from playing guitar some years ago.

The world is shedding talent and shredding hearts at all too fast a pace these days, spiraling down and down and ever downward. I cried for real for the first time yesterday. Not for any one of us but for all of us.....stay strong and safe dear friends and family. Much love from Northview Farm.

In a Small Town

The dance of the sugarplum......gulls

Things are different.

I've watched with horror the news stories of people willfully attempting to injure others by spreading this dread disease. Seen stories and photos of fools at the epicenter crowding together to watch that government ship pull in and cramming the subway as if togetherness was all the thing these days.

City stuff...all city stuff.

Tree Swallows

And then there are the small towns. I have seen a few and only a few incidents that made me cringe. A gaggle of bikers in leathers hugging one another in a parking lot and jumping up and down and making a show of themselves. Not impressed. Also probably not local folks. A few ill-advised play dates and the like.

But mostly, even though there are people on the bike path, fishing at the river, or walking the riverbed in the parks, they are almost all widely separated. I've seen lots of dads and moms out in yards playing with their kids and dozens of rainbows in windows showing solidarity and caring.

Local law enforcement is doing everything they can to help people weather this terrible storm too, from collecting pet food for food pantries and shelters to keeping us posted on numbers and news.

Then this morning our dear town clerk let me know that our tax payment, which has been in abeyance as offices are closed, will be processed today. Thus I can be even more careful not to overdraw the bank account today and tomorrow. That is the sort of kindness and thoughtfulness that sets small towns apart from soulless cities. 

Thanks Roxanne, that was really nice of you.

Stay safe and strong dear friends and family. I hope you are all finding ways to keep your minds distracted from the 24/7 horror show raging all around us. The state is encouraging people to use birding for that purpose.... so that is working.....at least in the daytime...for me.

Much love from Northview Farm.

Woulda, Shoulda, Coulda

Appomattox Court House

We shoulda been headed for the Outer Banks this weekend for a week of Civil War battlefields, beaches, and beautiful birds.

We went last year for the first time for the Birds, Beaches, and Battlefields tour and had the most fabulous time imaginable. And we did it all for under $800 for three people.

Cheap dates and all.

Alas this year we are home, along with most of the rest of the world.

Maybe someday......maybe someday.....we woulda if we coulda...

Meanwhile....

Love to all

Essential

Even though it is only March our local farmers are on the land. They are fertilizing, fitting ground, getting everything ready to plant, sometimes even when it is raining.

Whether Amish or English they are not stopping in their all-important quest to grow food for everyone.

My heart lifts to see the rounded backs of rich black furrows rolling out behind the plows and even to smell the sharp tang of valuable organic material sequestered from cows involved in producing dairy products. 

While the world descends ever deeper and ever faster into a whirling spiral of terror, something is still right and strong.

i am ever so grateful for farmers and not just because I was one once.

Hats off to our neighbors with tractors and teams.

Hope you are all staying safe and strong. Much love from Northview Farm. 

Staying Alone

Sunup at Schoharie Crossing
Nobody here but us and the birds

They say it equals staying alive. We have to go to the stores and mail out bill payments and all....eating is still popular here.....but birding was already a solitary endeavor, and we are endeavoring to make it more so.

It's not DiGiourno

We go to the river early before other folks are out. We bird from the car or in the wild places that no one else seems to have discovered.

Mr. Patience, Patiently waiting

Or at home, where the area around the house is thronged with birds, however common and tame.

It's as alone as we can make it what with folks who live here having to work at essential jobs.....

Stay safe and strong dear friends and family. Much love from Northview. 

Common Grackle is just that but pretty in spring plumage.

The Sunny Side

Ring-billed Gull

I try.

I really do. I understand just how fortunate I am.....to be in reasonable if not great health, to be ambulatory, able to see adequately, to hear quite well, and to be surrounded by loving people, literally living my own dream...that is in the country, on a farm.

However, after a week, or however long it's been of curtailed everything and a continuous onslaught of terrible news and terrifying headlines, I got up this morning grumpy. I didn't cheer up much as the day went on.

We stole a few minutes...literally...down at the Crossing, but had to come home to take care of Peg because school is...rightly...closed.

No biggie, although I miss the luxury of lots of time to wander and peer. However, just a short while after we came home friends emailed that there were two Wilson's Snipe and an American Pipit being seen down there. Peg was still asleep, having had some late nights lately. We just couldn't go.

We did go down later when we could but the birds were gone.

I was not feeling too sunny.

However upon checking my email I discovered that because I turned in over a thousand eBird lists last year Cornell gave me the rest of the year's free access to their new site Birds of the World.

I immediately typed in Wilson's Snipe and had me a good old time learning a lot more than I knew before. I didn't do more than dip a toe in the well of information available. There is an incredible amount of detail.

Talk about a sunny side!

I feel much better now. 

Hope you are all safe and well.

Gadwall

Update: When the boss was done with his work and Liz was home from hers, he took me back down to the river and we found the bird! Well, one of them anyhow. Life bird for me, a Wilson's Snipe!

Hang in There

Hertrude and Greathcliff

Hertrude, there's something wrong with the water!

I can't swim, can you?

I dunno, Greathcliff, it looks alright, but it's not very wet.

I know!

The carp are social distancing!

Social Distancing

Is not abnormal for us. We mostly only see family and the people we meet while shopping for food and other necessities. Birding is largely solitary, but never boring, as you can see from these photos.

The first two are from Schoharie Crossing this morning. Nobody there but us and a few geese.

The little yellow chair was set carefully, right at the edge of the racing Mohawk River at Yankee Hill Lock. It was the epitome of lonesome.

The lower set...well, your guess is as good as mine. "It" cropped up along Queen Ann Road sometime since we last visited the lock. A horse? Maybe? 

An excellent social distancing tool at any rate. Be safe and well, dear friends. 

Survival Tip #442

Pick up the phone.

Make that keyboard sing.

Call your mother.

Chat with a friend on Facebook.

Video conference with friends and loved ones.

It helps.

A lot.

A short virtual visit with a dear friend half-way across the country yesterday....

A quick conversation with our boy before he started work in New Jersey this morning...

Solving the world's problems and laughing over stories from the past on the phone every evening with my beloved mama...

Powerful medicine in this time of wild uncertainty.

Hope you are all safe and well, adequately supplied with what you need and not going too crazy yet. The girls and the boss worked together to get me out for about a half and hour's birding yesterday and that helped too....

Something Different

I read this pretty much every day and prop myself up with it quite often. Not my usual, but it is what it is.

“I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”

Philippians 4:12-13

Rain

A young friend shared this fun draw a bird thing and so I did

And babysitting. The girls are working all the hours they can while the getting is good.  So the boss and I are home pretty much all the time.

We woke up yesterday to a dead furnace fan. Many thanks to friends and family from all over the US who offered suggestions on where to find a new one with everything closed or crippled. It took all day but the boss bought one in Albany, rewired it, spent hours installing it, and it is rumbling quietly away right now, taking off the chill of still-winter-in-the-Northeast.

I have always been glad I married a farmer, never more than now......Not every fellow would know how to do that stuff. And thank God for technology. Where would we be right now if we couldn't communicate or entertain ourselves?

This is the one of three neck-banded Canada Goose we have found this year.

Each day's news brings more madness. 

And less birding. Good thing I have a stock of seed on hand to fill the feeders. Scored a year bird despite being stuck at home...an Eastern Phoebe has showed up in the hedgerow along the long lawn.

In my Facebook feed I am seeing both small farmers who have lost their commercial customers for eggs and similar farm products and townspeople finding shelves in stores empty of same. Hope these folks can get together somehow. Nothing like farm fresh eggs. 

In other news, Peggy is making a book....All off her own bat with neither help nor influence from her staff. She made a bunch of highly colorful paintings and stuff and is carefully and patiently gluing them together with a cover made from cardboard. I will grab a pic if I get a chance. It is going to be a pretty darned nice book I think. 

Hope you are all well and coping somehow with both the demise of our culture and economy and the threat to our health. Must be getting used to it I guess, as I slept through the night last night for the first time in a while. Take care.....

The Wearing of the Green

Nope. Not.

Just too gloomy and doomy today to bother.

I am one of those silly SAD people and it is snowy (!) and grey and unpleasant and the plague has me staying home providing child care instead of birding.

On top of that the knowledge that I have nothing to complain about, being well-fed, as healthy as I was pre-plague, living in a house with huge windows, maximizing available light, and able to get outdoors even at home, plus having a wonderful child for whom to care, makes me feel guilty about feeling gloomy.

You know, that Irish guilt syndrome and all. My great grandfather, Lawrence McGivern came over from the Ould Sod as a boy and I knew him as a child, so the ties to the green are strong.

Anyhow, instead of the dark green Henley and the green plaid flannel I had saved back for today, I grumpily went with grey Henley and orange plaid flannel.....with a black sweatshirt on top.

Take that plague!

In my defense I long ago gave up on St. Patty's day as far as good times are concerned. When we were kids we ALWAYS missed school because we had measles, mumps or rubella. Or the creeping crud. Or the galloping zook as my old boss at the veterinary clinic where I worked in my youth used to call it. The kids were always home sick too. March is a terrible month for seasonal contagions and always has been.

So here I sat at my computer, thinking about working on the story I started in lieu of my old job, listening to a cardinal wearing his heart on his song, when I happened to glance down.

And by Jove, I am in fact wearing green. Becky did my fingers with nail wraps for the High Kings concert last month, in green, and blue, and white with glitter. Kinda like an ocean wave breaking on pink sand. I liked them so much that they are still there.

Huh, whaddaya know....

Anyhow....

Hope you are all well, and finding what you need, and able to remain as calm as possible under the onslaught of scary information. And that the luck of the Irish smiles upon you whether you are or whether you aren't. 

Betcha can't listen to this without a smile. I sure can't.