Flamingo Wars

 

It all started with the Allied Union. WWII was not long over and still much talked about among our elders. In our case the Union, consisting of my next younger brother Mike, my Uncle Larry, and myself, with occasional assistance from some rather more civilized cousins, sequestered important elements of Thanksgiving dinner at one end of Grandma L's round oak table (which lives in my dining room now). Then we threatened to keep them there. Gravy anyone? We never actually deprived anyone of holiday sustenance, but threats abounded...as did amazing food. Man could those aunties, my mama, and grandma cook up a feast.

Later some elements of the Allied Union cruised the streets around Grandma and Grandpa's house in my uncle's car, which was doing double duty as a Sherman tank or maybe a fighter plane. We were just enough years younger than he for the hero worship to run strong. He had a car and a sense of fun and we sure loved our time with him...still do as far as that goes. He is a great guy.

Brandy

Fast forward a few years to the Doggie Doo Dah Olympics. Matt was stationed in the Air Force on another continent on the other side of the world. We communicated with him via....gasp....actual mail...the kind with stamps and all.

Two Bears, another Olympic contender

As evidenced by tape holding the envelopes shut when they arrived at their destination, someone was opening and reading that mail. Although we have always blamed local individuals who had access to those snail mail missives, I wonder now if it was happening on the other end of the mail run. It wasn't exactly the U S of A over there or anything.

At any rate we decided that if someone wanted to read our letters we would give them something to ponder over. Thus the Olympics were born. A Doo Dah, btw, is what we jokingly called a milking machine cup liner, made of high-quality rubber, and designed perfectly for tossing and fetching. We all grew up around farming or worked on farms and had access to the worn out ones, which the dogs loved to play with. 

I had a rescue dog named Brandy that was literally on the table ready for the last needle when I talked my veterinarian boss into giving him to me instead. He would do ANYTHING you could make him understand just for attention and praise. Frisbee, digging where asked...he helped put in our waterline...climbing ladders to run around on the roof, leap tall buildings at a single bound. There was no stopping him. It's a shame things like Dock Dog, Frisbee competition, agility and the like did not exist then, because he was that dog.

Oh, the mail order drama and the tense rivalry between Brandy, his family, and that felonious French floozy, er, poodle, Fifi Lafayette. With all the tricks he knew it was easy to elaborate on the many adventures of the gymnastic, bombastic, fantastic pups. We used pages and pages of hand printed...in a teeny tiny font...and colorfully illustrated, lined paper. I wish I could remember all the stories of the doggy Olympic village, the cheating, the scandals, the ridiculousness of it all. Matt and I were always close, and I missed my little brother something awful. It was fun to make up the crazy stories, and to think about some far away stranger reading them in puzzlement. I think Matt may still have some of the silliness kicking around somewhere. At any rate, our letters soon began to arrive unopened. 

In more recent years there was Moose Quest, which I won...Ha Ha! , Gator Quest, which went to Alan and Amber, a short and so far unsuccessful Bobcat Quest, and now....

Extra points for this salvo by Becky
as I am gnome-o-phobic.

Flamingo Wars! Ta Dah! 

I always liked flamingos, and would like to actually see one for eBird, although I did see some in Florida in the 70s. Meanwhile, my house is littered with flamingos in the bathroom, flamingoes in the parlor, flamingos on the kitchen windowsill over the sink, and even a flamingo in the dining room. The girls have a small amount of discretionary income and are not afraid of Amazon or eBay. 

I, however, am becoming afraid of incoming mail. Turnabout is fair play I suppose, but still...

Flaming-Ingo Sky

Anyhow, our family appears to have a long history of silly, but by heckin' heck, we sure have fun.

Alz fair in love and war

A New Year for Birds and Bad News

 

Rough-legged Hawk from late last year

Yesterday marked the first bird count of 2025 for me, as well as the last of the 2024 season. Once again George Steele was leader, driver, best bird spotter, (although I did find a couple,) and general all around good sport about the trials and tribulations of driving around with the windows down in January squalls, listening for peeping from the shrubbery.

It was, as always fun. We found some excellent first-of-the-year birds, including some awesome raptors. Said birds have been unusually obliging lately, sitting still for ID and portraiture quite kindly. I think, not unlike humans, they really don't want to move in the cruddy weather. 

George

They included some Bald Eagles, a Cooper's Hawk, a Merlin, a couple of Northern Harriers, and several Red-tailed Hawks. We went around later looking for Short-eared Owls. Lots of outstanding habitat but no birds. I blame the weather.

Alas, we returned home to horrific news for the first of this new year, as I am sure you have read. I hope those in charge can prevent further incidences of same. Pretty scary stuff.

Meanwhile, it is time for me to head out to find all the birds from last year all over again, as well as to look for new lifers...of which there have been several pretty fancy finds by others already this year, including a Varied Thrush in the county to the north.

I want to wish you all a very Happy....and Safe....New Year, and great birding if that is your thing.

Hugs from Northview to all of you!

Update: I meant the national news from New Orleans and Las Vegas. Nothing personal. Sorry

A Tale of Two CBCs

 

Day 2 Barred Owl Number 3

I participated in back-to-back Christmas Bird Counts this weekend, not a chore for the faint of heart.

The first was the Fort Plain Area Christmas Bird Count. This was the third time for me and the first ever CBC for my dear friend Kris. The weather was not awesome, although it was in fact much nicer than had been predicted. Birds seemed to be hiding out from said weather and we had to work for every one. However, Kris did a fantastic job driving and helping with navigation and I feel like we got it done right well....not to mention it was a lot of fun, at least for me. Hope we can do it again next year, the Good Lord willing and all.

Day 2 Barred Owl Number 1
Just call him bashful

Then yesterday I joined George Steele and another CBC newbie for the Johnstown count. My folks did that one almost as long as it had been in existence, and when my mom got sick of driving the roads counting every single bird, Dad recruited me to help. As he and Mom failed (or in Moms case got bored with it) the boys and I slowly took over their territory, Mayfield South. Lacking a driver I let that go not too many years ago, but when George invited me to join him on his portion of the same count I was glad to do so. I infinitely prefer to let someone else lead, drive, find the birds, compile etc...which he does quite professionally. I am content to help look for birds and click, click, click on my phone all day, making check lists and a trip report of our finds of the day.

It was a great weekend and I want to thank everyone involved, including Ralph, who took me to meet the driving folks...not that I couldn't have driven myself, but he offered....Kris and George for doing the hard part, and all the compilers and folks who get out there and count the birdies.

Also I truly hope Riley was able to get warm and will enjoy future counts in the coming years.

Day 2 Barred Owl Number 2
George called him at midday.

Merry Christmas

 

Winter Day One

 

Mature Cooper's Hawk

So, it's the first day of Winter. Do you know where your lawn ornaments are?

(Under the snow I expect.)

Around Northview we have a few inches, the boss is sick, although improving (man cold...he will get over it in time I expect) and birding is still lackluster. I am barely tempted to go down to the river a couple of times a week. Sure saves on gas.

If you are local you are probably aware of the rodeo on the roads yesterday. A few inches of snow brought so many crashes and near disasters that it was just plain nutz. Sirens and fire alarms were the song of the day...all day. We stayed off the roads except for getting Becky to and from work and were thankful that we could.

I mean, seriously, there was even a plane involved. On the Thruway no less.

An interesting few moments in the backyard yesterday morning. I was in the kitchen when I heard two Black-capped Chickadees alarm-calling in exact unison. That was enough for me to drape my bins and camera around my neck and sneak out into the yard to see what was up. By the time I got out there there were at least five chickees, a couple of Tufted Titmice, and an assortment of other small birds complaining noisily.

Up on the hill in the old heifer pasture there is a tree, quite distant from the house, where passing birds particularly raptors, like to perch. There was a Merlin sitting on the very topmost twig. At first I thought that he was the reason for all the drama, but it seemed odd that the feeder birds would get so excited about so distant a bird. He was obviously uninterested in hunting, as he was still sitting there half an hour later.

I walked around the corner.

There was a small, mature Cooper's Hawk, staring intently at the feeders. I was able to grab a couple of photos before he flew. I think he hung around in the brush for a bit though, although I couldn't see him, as the birds still alarmed for a bit before they settled back down to nomming sunflower seeds.

I have learned to go right out if I hear that chorus of danger calls, as you never know what you will find right there in the backyard.

Anyhow, welcome to Winter. Ticks and mosquitoes are less of a problem than in sunnier months, the next season in the sequence is Spring...and that is the best I can offer you today.

Invasive

 

Eastern White Pine

The  boss kindly ventured out on Seven-county Hill to collect two Christmas trees, one for our house and one for the eastern extension of the family.

In recent years the hill has slowly been colonized by fluffy Eastern White Pine trees, pinus strobus, after decades in pasture and years in hay.

He found two nicely shaped ones, a little too tall even for our high ceilings, but what are chainsaws for? I had to choose. Last year I left the nicest one for Liz, but this year they were nearly identical.

Or so I thought until I brushed my hand affectionately over them.

One of these things is not like the other.

The first tree had soft, silky needles in clusters of five. The bark was greyish green and smooth.

The other had greenish-yellow-gold bark and needles in pairs. Stiff, sharp needles.

Becky went to work on the conundrum.

Her verdict was Scotch Pine, pinus sylvestris. My folks chose this tree almost exclusively when we were kids, but white pine has a special history here at Northview, so I chose that one.

I was astonished to find a wild growing Scotch Pine and to discover that they are considered invasive in many parts of the county, as they often invade prairie areas. 

I guess the old saw that you learn something every day is true...and I like it that way.

Scotch Pine

Two CBCs

 

Red-tailed Hawk from Count One

Over the past four days I was privileged to participate in two Christmas Bird Counts. The first was in an area that was partly small town/suburban and partly the rural borders thereof. We saw the usual suspects expected in such an environment and had a good time looking for them.

Then yesterday I had the opportunity to be a small part of the Montezuma National Wildlife count circle. That was exciting! I have always wanted to see the refuge in winter, and although it was something of a November-like day (and no complaints from me about that!) it was still quite different from the busy days of summer. I got all ten-thousand steps in one wandering bird walk.

My favorite memories include the sound of Trumpeter Swans winging their muscular way through the air right over our heads, bugling unmistakable and hair-raising calls, as if rallying the world to follow. They are BIG birds and impressive indeed.

Red-tailed Hawk Count Two

And of skeins of Snow Geese stretching from horizon to horizon, their calls sharper and more piercing than the lower pitched honks of the Canada Geese. They seemed to go on forever, and I was pretty happy that they were outside our bit of the circle so we didn't have to count them all.

Sandhill Cranes

Best of all was the flock of 27 Sandhill Cranes on the way back to the compilation. I may or may not have exclaimed like a little kid and fan-girled over the sight like same. Cranes always make my day! There were huge numbers reported count week, which I found downright pleasing. Maybe over the next few years they will nudge their boundaries our way and we won't have to drive two hours to see them.

The Bridge of Dread

Least favorite memory...climbing through the gates on the derelict bridge we needed to cross. There was a time in my life when I would have scampered over or through without a single thought. This is not that time. Besides being older than dirt and build for comfort not for speed, I was wearing four shirts and my father's huge, thick, Carhartt hoodie. I got through all right going in but had an awful...and embarrassing...time on the way out. Just call me not nimble.

I am hoping to be involved in three more counts in the coming weeks. Let's hold good thoughts for favorable weather and wider gates where that situation applies.

Oh, and Cheerios and dried cherries are good trip food. Their are a lot of them, and although they are reasonably satisfying, there is no urge to devour them all at a sitting.

Also vegan spicy sweet potato/black bean chili is really good. Hot but tasty.

The Year in Birds (Part Two) Lifers

Red-headed Woodpecker

 Seven new birds for me this year, two more than last year. Some of them were relatively common and at least one not really a lifer as they were nearly ubiquitous when I was younger, but new to my eBird list.

 

1) Last winter saw daily reports of a Tufted Duck being observed in Saratoga Lake. It took several March trips with Ralph and my good friend Kris, but we finally got to see it among a huge number of scaup and other winter ducks. Thanks to you both for getting me there, and Kris for helping me get on it.

2) Next, also in March, was the Red-headed Woodpecker. Kris and I did a Montezuma run and met a pleasant gentleman who seemed quite knowledgeable about local birding. We asked him if he could direct us to it, he did, and the rest is history. This is the faux lifer. Up until I was in college they were the default woodpecker around here, and common even in the city. Then they vanished. Thanks, Kris for this one.

Common Tern

3) Third was a Common Tern spotted at the Schoharie Crossing boat launch, probably my favorite local birding site. I found him myself one cold and windy day in May.

4) In June I happened on a couple of Least Bitterns calling from a nearby marsh. Heard only, but that counts on eBird. Also self found.

Glossy Ibis

5) In August Ralph took me on another Montezuma run. We were almost done with the wildlife drive when I saw a lot of people staring into the cattails at a small marsh. I peered through my bins for a bit and spotted a little brown bird skulking through the shrubbery, a Glossy Ibis! Yay! Thanks, Ralph, and the nice birder who helped me know which ibis it was.

6) A pair of American Golden Plovers made my life list in Maine in October. This is a species I never expected to see and it was pretty darned thrilling for me. Another self found flyer, but many thanks to Ralph and Becky for being so patient about the hours I spend hiking beaches and marshes and woods and fields. Also thanks to Matt and family for making the trip so much easier.

7) I have told you before about the Ross's Goose chase. I spend a lot of time peering at geese, taking photos of geese and peering at same, and pondering geese and goose species. I think there are more Cackling Geese than we realize among the Canadas, some years it's easy...ish... to find a Greater White-fronted Goose committing vagrancy among the flocks, and once a top-notch birder I know put us on a Barnacle Goose. However, the Ross's was a big thrill and still delights me.

And there you have it, my year in lifers. I am downright pleased with these birds, but I am still out there looking for more, every chance I get. Just greedy I guess.

Not a lifer, but my favorite bird
Carolina Wren

The Year in Birds (Part One) NYBBA lll

Wilson's Snipe (H Appropriate Habitat)

Over the course of the past five years I have been privileged to participate in the third New York Breeding Bird Atlas. It was the first atlas for me and will undoubtedly be the last as well. Atlases take place every twenty years. When the next one rolls around, should I, by some strange and unlikely miracle, still be standing up and taking nourishment, I would be ninety-two. Pretty much of a nope.

House Wren in the act of fledging
(NY Nest with Young)

I loved doing the atlas and will continue to code breeding bird activity going forward. Thanks to it, I learned a lot about bird behavior, which added a rich new dimension to my favorite outdoor pastime.

I saw a Bald Eagle rebuilding after losing a known nest in a storm last spring. It was jumping up and down on a branch like a kid with a new trampoline. When the branch finally broke it carried it off to a new nest structure, much smaller and less ambitious than the many-years-old original. I don't know if there were new eggs, as timing would indicate that the downfall of the old nest took eggs too, but I can hope.

Through closer than previous observation and a little more detective work than we might have bothered with before the atlas, a friend and I discovered a brand new Bald Eagle nest adjacent to one of my favorite birding spots (I used to call it Snipe Central). Alas I don't know if this pair had success either, but it was fun to watch them.

Red-tailed Hawk ( P Pair in Suitable Habitat)

It was the same with many other species. I learned to watch more closely and to bird much more intensively, as I tried to help finish priority blocks.

I am most grateful to the people running things who took time to email corrections when I was wrong, thanks when I got something done, and suggestions for new places to bird. Also to people I was able to join on atlasing trips, who know a lot more than I do.

Thanks to atlasing while at camp I found one of the best birding spots I know of, where it was nothing to find thirty or forty nice species and to witness all kinds of breeding behavior in an hour or two. I cannot wait to get back there...if the road is passable...next spring in warbler time!

I am going to miss working on the atlas though. It brought me in contact with many birders I otherwise wouldn't have encountered and was a lot of fun besides.

Killdeer (C Courtship, Display, or Copulation)
(Get a room!)

Therapy

 I partook of a free therapy session yesterday, as the boss was sleeping in. Two days a week I take Becky down to open the store at five AM and my chores are soon done, leaving some blank spaces in what passes for my schedule.

I really want a Christmas tree this year so I picked out a beauty a few weeks ago when Alan took me touring the hills and creeks on the place in his bright red Jeep.

He was going to get it for me over the holiday but what with babies and hunting and eating turkey and all (which he and Amber raised and donated to the cause....I cooked it in my roaster, breast down, in a quart of chicken stock Becky and I made last summer...Yum!) the tree didn't get harvested.

I've been trying to explain to the boss just where it is so he can take the skid steer up and get it for me, but it is not easy to describe a single tree in a forest of same. Thus I grabbed a roll of surveyors' tape and my bins and camera and headed out on the hills to tag my prey.

It was a slippery climb, with the snow crusted to ice and the rough and rocky trail, but the Jeep tracks from holiday hunts got me to the top of the 30-acre Lot safely. From there I contemplated the lack of a path up to Seven-County Hill where the wild pines and Ruffed Grouse grow.

And noped my plans right there on the spot. No Jeep tracks, just sharp crusty snow, chest-high brush, and a mini mountain to climb. I really wanted to tag that darned tree, but if you don't respect your age and abilities you will wish you had. It was enough of a fool's errand climbing the front hill in winter without goating up the big hill.

I opted for a hike over to the deer blind and some time sitting on the ladder of same enjoying the company of an assortment of birds. It was peaceful up there despite the traffic noise and trains. I think I heard a Winter Wren check-checking from the bushes but Merlin couldn't hear him and I couldn't pish him out. Even without counting him the trip netted me 21 species, not bad for a winter walk just on our own place.

I came down....walking very gingerly...much refreshed and in a better frame of mind than when I started....despite the pine tree fail. You can't put a price on time outdoors....because it's priceless after all.

Betrayal of Trust

While I walked my ten over the past several days, I listened to the audio book of the same title, written by J. A. Jance, who just happens to be my favorite author.

I had read the eBook earlier, soon after it first came out. Becky keeps me in music and books to read or listen to and I thank her for it.

Upon first reading, as is normal for a shameless speed reader such as myself, I devoured the main plot, a tale of cold cases, a serial killer, and family betrayals. It is a great story and I highly recommend it.

However, audio books cannot be speed read. You have to listen to every word and take in every nuance. I realized that intentionally or not, another betrayal was laid out for readers, and it was one that affected my family personally and painfully.

I am talking about the main news story of the period when we were all forced to comply with separation regulations unheard of and unimagined in history as we knew it. The COVID shutdowns.

Reaction to the virus by people in power tore our family apart.. literally...and left us with grief and feelings of guilt that will probably never go away.

Mom and Dad married as kids. I was born when Mom was 19 and the boys followed at intervals thereafter. I kind of grew up with the folks. They stayed together through all kinds of trials and joys and ended up as halves of a powerfully loving whole. 

Sometimes I would arrive to visit, Mom would greet me at the door, and we would sit down at the dining room table for coffee. Dad might be upstairs and, being profoundly deaf, would not know I was there. He would randomly holler down the stairs, “I love you.” Mom would holler back up, “I love you.”

It was just something they did to keep in touch…to stay close…even when they were separated.

Because otherwise, they never were, apart that is. During each of their several hospitalizations over the years, at least they could visit one another, but otherwise they lived their lives as close as two people can be. I was always somewhat in awe of that, as it takes a lot of giving to share yourself that way.

Then came the disease and the betrayal too. Mom was suddenly hospitalized for an unrelated medical issue. Dad could not cope without her there. I moved in, but diffident, timid, soul that I am, I was a terrible substitute. Things didn’t go well, and I convinced him to be taken to the hospital for evaluation. Mom was released into what we thought was a good nursing home, and he ended up there too.

Good thing, right, both in the same place? Nope, they were in separate wards and thanks to the shutdown, we were not permitted to visit or even talk to their “caregivers” face-to-face. It was horrible. 

Dad caught the disease and gave it to Mom during a brief visit between them. 

I won’t share the details, but mistakes were made, some of them well-meaning, some of them because people were afraid of the disease and, being unobserved by caring family members, could get away with egregious neglect and abuse.

When they let Mom have her phone and we found out about these things we tried to remedy the situation over the office phone…when anyone answered it that is. They often didn’t and we went hours and days with no contact.

I shudder to think how horrible it was for my parents, the primary victims. Alone, no support, no contact with each other. Dad couldn’t hear, and was hard-pressed to talk on the phone to Mom or to us.

Then he was hospitalized. 

All alone. He couldn't even see their family physician, who cared deeply about them, and would have added personal contact to the terrible equation forced on him by the plague. Neither could Mom.

Mom hardly ever had her phone, even after my brother bought her a new one when they “lost” her old one. No phone, no complaints to family members.

Dad was going to be released back to nursing home Hell, when he declined quickly and died.

Mom followed four days later.

The disease was undeniably terrible. We all got it and suffered horribly. Underlying conditions made it harder for some than others. 

The betrayal of trust by people who should have had our best interests at heart but clearly didn’t, brought on a nearly universal underlying condition, which contributed heavily to our family’s hardship.

It’s hard to go on living with a broken heart. Mom and Dad just couldn't. I don’t guess the regret ever goes away, but I thank J. A. Jance for writing so brilliantly of the problems, some trivial, some terrible, that we all faced back then. 

I think listening to Betrayal of Trust in audio book format helped me come to terms with some of them. Not all of them though.

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Dad

 

Thanks for the Eastern Bluebirds that came to the yard this morning. Your birds, always and forever.

Tough Guy

 

This little dog is a manly man. He guards his outdoor kennel run from snakes and rats and other terrors...dispatches them summarily and sometimes even eats them. (But only in summer, as he is not exactly furry.)

And then there was that chicken incident. He doesn't like us to talk about it but, still, it was pretty bad.

Of course he does get sick as stink any time he eats his kills, but the toughness remains indisputable. 

If someone comes to the door, his barks, if kind of high-pitched for Dogzilla, are relentless and unstoppable.

However, he has a dirty little secret, and meanie that I am, I am going to tell you about it.

He is terrified of his toy box. It is just a small cardboard box, not even chin-high to HIM !!! It is kept in the pantry, heaped with old toys Jill left behind, his own squeaky balls that glow until he kills their innards, and assorted stuffed things ranging from a beaver to a shark with a flamingo wrapped around it, plus knotted ropes and rubber bones. He loves them all.

Every morning when he has free time after the morning dog walk he creeps into the pantry and nudges at the box. If it moves he bolts. Since he nudged it, of course it moves. He trots urgently around the kitchen table in high dudgeon, outraged that some witch put all his toys in there and he can't get them out without being assaulted. (I love that rocking tough terrier gait he has. He thinks he is a Bull Terrier, even if he is wrong.) 

Then he goes back into the pantry for another nudge.

Eventually he gets over it, digs into the goodies...very carefully, so as not to disturb THE BOX... and fetches out toy after toy. We play a bit, there are pets and treats, then he goes back in his crate for a while. (Because he relentlessly eats everything he finds and destroys anything he can't swallow, supervision is a big part of his life.)

And wouldn't you know it? While he is incarcerated, that witch puts all those toys back into the dreaded box.

Then the next play time we do it all again.

A Salute to All our Veterans

 Thanks!

Cold Coffee

 Just finishing that vital first cup. Not iced coffee mind you. I don't like it. However, BITD when I was milking cows on a big farm near here, temperatures got down to 40 below zero F pretty often. Thick sheets of ice formed on the milking parlor walls that we couldn't get rid of until temperatures moderated. I got used to cold coffee. We all kept our cups thereof on the green metal shelf near the steps to the pit and it didn't stay warm long.

Our house is warmer than the milking parlor was back then, but not as much warmer as I might like it to be. However, I don't mind the chilly brew.

It does the job.

Microwave Applesauce

 

So, I am crazy about apples, eat one almost every day, as long as I can get good ones.

The boss is not a fan, but he likes applesauce and needs to eat foods like that. Thus over the years I have made him a lot of it.

My previous method of prep required hours of simmering. Turned out delicious and all, but I don't always want to spend half a day checking in every few minutes to stir, stir, stir.

Plus, since it was a PIA to make, I made a lot at once, and always ended up tossing some, even if I broke it into batches and froze. He just couldn't eat it fast enough.

As apple season winds down we've been visiting Bellinger's Orchard early and often to stock up. We bought some seconds last week (which are actually perfectly nice apples, with just a few blemishes). I knew it was inevitable that I spend a few boiling hours to care for my life partner.

Then I had a thought. I wondered if you could microwave applesauce in small batches quickly.

Turns out you can.

I am not sure what might work for you, but I peeled, cored, and diced two apples, and put them in a microwave safe bowl with enough water to keep them from drying out or burning up. Then I nuked them for five minutes, smushed them down a bit with a fork, gave them another minute and a half and there it was....enough lovely applesauce for a couple of day's meals.

I make it without sugar and just squash it up good but I guess you could blend it finer if you wish. We prefer it kind of chunky. We also like cinnamon, so I add a hearty dose of that.

I am so excited about this....It's the little things.

Happy Halloween