Swinter

 

That's what I'm calling this new season we're having.

Wednesday it was nice enough that the boss and I took a five-mile hike up into Lost Valley State Forest.

It was beautiful, cool and brisk when we started out at shortly after seven, just starting to get a little overwarm when we hiked out. Along the way we were entertained by a sleepy mama porcupine snoozing in a tree, heard an etude of bird song, including first of the year Eastern Towhee and Ovenbird, and a probably Black-throated Green Warbler that only called once or twice, plus all the stunning beauty of early spring in the Adirondack foothills.

The boss kept pointing out evidence that the land was farmed some time long ago, foundations of old buildings, a filled in laid up stone well casing, and then a tiny cemetery he spotted.

I have hiked in alone and in a group several times before and never noticed it, even though it is right next to the road. We were able to decipher some of the names without getting down into the tangle of wild rose bushes that was slowly devouring it. Grabbed a few photos too.

Upon returning home I searched for the names on the stones, Rowland and Eleanor Bell, and to my astonishment, found them both on this page and in the 1885 NY Census.

How cool is that!

Which brings me to a bit of a conundrum. My mother was an avid and skilled genealogist. She gathered information on both hers and my father's families for most of her life. It is stuffed in folders and saved on CDs and probably stashed in the innards of their computers. It is a lot. Civil War records, cemetery records, census, immigrant records, records going back to Ireland, Scotland, France, and who knows where else!

 What on earth are we going to do about this? It would be a terrible shame to waste all that work. For now we are piling the stuff in one place and saving it. If I was 30 again and had time on my hands I would study it and continue with it. In fact back when I actually was in that age group we chased gravestones for Mom over much of Fulton County.

However, I am simply too darned old. And too darned busy. By the time I got up to speed on the material it would be time to hand it off again. What to do...what to do...any ideas friends?

Anyhow, I digress. We had a great day Wednesday and birding has been spectacular since, new arrivals every day. Making up for lost time due to the cruddy weather we have been having I guess. 

And now today. Wild, whipping, winds, snippy, cold, creeping, rain, making the boss move the car away from the trees. And snow in the forecast!

Three species of birds at the feeder this morning...three! Guess I will do housework and hope for Spring to leave Swinter behind....and soon!

Ask Not

 

Early morning, sun just boiling its way through dirty cotton clouds of grey.

Walking the Mackster, clad in reindeer robe and knock-off crocs, chatting with my brother far away.

When the whistle blew down at the firehouse in town. 

It sounded urgent and scary and like mothers do I catalogued the locations of offspring and loved ones. As far as I knew everyone was in a safe place, so I said a small prayer for whomever the bell was tolling and went back to chatting.

Went inside, made coffee, and was stuffing my pockets full of the detritus of a woman who was raised with Boy Scouts and needs to be prepared at all times. Plus a mask, which is a relatively recent addition to the Swiss army knife, shepherd's whistle, hair clip, etc.

When Mack started alarming.

It wasn't the frantic BARK!! BARK!! BARK!!! that signifies the arrival of the dreaded Ren...he is terrified of her and lets us know whenever she is on the prowl.

Nope it was the "KATIE BAR THE DOOR"  bark that indicates someone outside.

I shushed the little beggar (hopefully without unnecessary profanity) and told him, "There's no one there you fool."

Then I looked out the kitchen window.

Well, who's the fool now! It was a volunteer fireman and a state trooper (!!!!!)

Someone had reported smoke coming down the hill from here. I assured them that I had just gone in the house and was in the yard when the whistle blew and if there was smoke I would have seen it.

Not sure they believed me, but I told them I was sorry they were called out for nothing and they went on their way. I surely hope it was just a mistake and that one of our neighbors isn't facing something bad. When you live in a small town live this even people whom you don't know are neighbors and you worry about them. 

And boy, oh, boy, am I ever glad that I was dressed in something other than a ratty old green reindeer bathrobe when the neighbors who watch over us and keep us safe showed up.

Now You See Me

At first she didn't see me

Then she did

I see you

I do too

Likewise

Myself as well

Hey you! Mind your own bee's wax
No peeking!

 

The Cupcake

 Each morning Mack and I spend some quality time in the kitchen before the rest of the house is astir. In weather as cold as this he can't go out to his run, and it is risky to leave him unobserved, so when I can't be with him he is crated. When I can be in the kitchen though, we have good times, and in warm weather he can be out a lot.

Today I chanced leaving him alone while I fed the birds. It takes only a tiny amount of time...I can get them fed before the microwave is finished with my coffee and I only heat that for two minutes.

When I got back in today, all seemed well. No shredded plastic bags found under something in the pantry. No stolen Peggy lunchbox. No socks, shoes, bottle caps, knives or other miscellany lying around half destroyed. Considering that he is a Jack Russell Terrier that is pretty darned good. I was happy.

Until a couple of hours later when the boss and I were heading out to chase a few birds and run a couple of errands. 

There was a smear of something dark on the table. Hot button with me. Certain individuals like to construct sammiches there without benefit of plates. It's a nice table my next younger brother built, beautiful reddish blonde butcher block style and I love it. No sammiches should ever touch its silky surface.

However, the boss swore he hadn't done the dastardly deed...and then I remembered....

The cupcake!

Seems we folks of the feminine persuasion attended a shower the other day. We brought home some chocolate cupcakes with peanut butter frosting. I ate mine on the way home, and Becky had hers. There was just one left and  it had been on the table the night before in all its glory.

It was gone.

Of course it was gone...wrapper and all.

Now, I could of course have rushed my little guy to the vet for charcoal and supportive therapy etc. However, I decided to watch him for symptoms and hope that he was okay. I've had dogs steal chocolate before with never any sign of ill effects.

However, I watched that dog like a hawk all day. He had more walkies and playtime and hugs and cuddles than he could believe he was getting. Almost wagged his stubby little tail off. Every time we had to leave, I rushed in to check him and give him some attention the minute we got back.

He seemed completely fine, but still I worried. We got back from Sprout Brook this afternoon, and I noticed LIz had his crate covered...he hates Ren and barks incessantly if he can see her.

I asked how he was. 

She said, "He's fine, just as much of a jerk as ever. All he does is bark.

    Why?"

So I told her about the cupcake.

"Oh, Mom, Peggy and I ate the cupcake last night. We shared it."

Of course they did.

Cupcakes?
Who said cupcakes?

The Good Parts

 

I don't necessarily enjoy sharing the roads with unlit vehicles that meander along in the dark unseen until close calls ensue.
However, one bright side of living near hundreds of Amish families is that lambs and calves and brand spanking new foals abound. 

I am still deeply bogged in trying to give people money. Back in the day we would have received paper bills, written checks, and sent the payments on their way. Now with both of Mom's phones no longer functioning it is impossible to change bank accounts on several of her creditors' websites. They just won't let me add my phone or add the estate account without her phones. Calling is usually unhelpful, as all I get is why they can't help me. Frustrating indeed.

Sometimes I bird a little with this guy

However, although we don't travel like we did before gas prices went up and I got this new part time job chasing Mom and Dad's stuff, we do get out.

And we see some wonderful things, not all of them birds....not that there is any shortage of birds either. Migration is just gaining momentum now and the first warblers and summer sparrows are beginning to show up. (Also some less wonderful but still interesting things, like the flooded pickanick table and the photo below.) It takes some of the sting out of doing battle with the drones.

We often stop to watch the beavers at a small backroad pond
The other day there was a dead one between the bank and the road.
No way of knowing if he was hit by a car, killed by another beaver (pond is tiny and crowded) or met his
demise in some other way. However, check out those chompers!

Great Balls of...

 

Snow!?!!! Think I'll stay......

Sprout Brook Auction

 

Appears to be sprouting.....and it's not until Saturday!!!

Was it the Air or the Date on the Calendar

 

Yesterday was filled with lotsa drama, don't cha know. First was the starvation and coffee deprivation of an early morning blood test. The place where we go was fenced off and shrouded in construction tarps with no clear path of entry. The place where you pick up brochures to tell you about procedures was full of Advent messages. (Helpful in some instances, but not this one.)

We didn't find a way in until Ralph caught up with a couple of security guards and they directed him.

Then there was a tumultuous confrontation between the several large, imposing, security guards and a person, obviously from the big fruity city down near Long Island, who thought she was above the rules. It was loud. There were F-bombs. Several police agencies were deployed and employed.

We were treated to the delightful phrase, "Flashlight rent-a-cop" which even the target of the epithet found funny later.

This all unfolded a few feet from where I quietly perched awaiting my turn.

Eventually the miscreant was escorted outside and calm was restored. I got stabbed and bandaided and scurried eagerly away from that awful place.

Savannah Sparrow

Then we went birding...sort of a reward for surviving the event described above.

There is this spot we used to visit regularly where we could see shorebirds noodling around in mud flats and find Rusty Blackbirds and all. Last year we were routed by a very angry person and have only birded from the road since. It is frustrating to see goodies from up there and not be able to photograph them but better than not seeing them at all.

We stopped there for a minute, grabbed the first Greater Yellowlegs of the year, and headed out. Two stops later we were approached by a couple in a great big truck. ...oh, no not again....To our amazement they very kindly said they were sorry about last year and invited us to park down in that little hole and bird whenever we want to. Happy, happy, joy, joy. Turns out they had good reason to be angry last year, just not at us.

Coltsfoot

With afternoon came the endless frustration of trying to pay people and entities to whom my parents owed money when they passed. Without passwords or pins this is ridiculously difficult. I am just trying to give these people money. Why do they make it so hard!!!!!....AT$T, I am talking about you.... Stop sending me from operator to operator and just take the money.

Come nightfall there was a strange truck parked well-hidden, in the barn driveway. Although there are surveyors who are allowed to visit, we are supposed to receive notice of same. Strange truck, strange time of day, no badges, no notice. Authorities were summoned. Turns out the guy was legit, but dang. You have the phone number and are lucky the gate wasn't
locked.

Not much later I was glad to go to bed and put paid to Tuesday the 13th of April. It was a weird one for sure.

Doin' a Concern

 

OMG, Dad, Tremors!

Walking at the Hale Creek Field Station, accompanied by my baby brother, Matthew, and his Blue Heeler, Lucy.

This is not good!

Tapping in first-of-the-year..... at least for Fulton County.... Golden-crowned Kinglets and Chipping Sparrows galore, plus loads of other cheerful chirpers partaking of the shelter of the nearby evergreens.

Doin' a heckin concern dad, let's get out of here!

Lucy was nonchalant, casual, content to be with her person, out in the open with all those nifty small ponds all in nice chains, the creek rattling nearby, and sweet spring breezes wafting up fine scents for a dog's good nose.

And then suddenly.....concern!

Unsafe at any speed

A Bite of the Elephant

 

He is Risen

Happy Easter