Well, if you want to grin, and have that grow bigger and BIGGER into a huge SMILE, showing ALL your teeth, then turn into a chuckle to boot, press PLAY. This is sure to cheer you up. The fish, parrot, turtles, the ferret, the shark and a few of the dogs and cats -- their voices, the little pranks that creep into this will make anyone who is the least bit stressed or blue cheer up INSTANTLY!!!
PRESS PLAY - AND SHARE THIS LINK ON YOUR WALL to pass all that goodness along.
***There is a second of a squirrel***
Friday, December 16, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Hiccups
I have come to be known now as the squirrel lady. Someone got me a lunch bag with a red squirrel and acorns on it... and yes, I am using it today, and packed it with a smile on my face.
I got squirrel calendars for Christamas from my sister.
And people send me squirrel pictures and videos all the time.
Bring it.
I embrace it.
Let's face it: it's true.
Here's a YouTube vid by vivmus96 that I discovered today
after watching a different vid someone sent to me. Had to share.
Squirrels tend to jump and twitch a lot. But this one appears to have actual hiccups, as evidenced by the little squeak that comes out of him with each little convuslion. Enjoy.
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Fast Asleep
OK, I am completely slain by baby squirrels.
I know some people think they are tree rats and nuisances, building nests occasionally in someone's attic or eating all the food in the feeders folks put out to attract birds. But how can your heart not just swell to bursting with love when you hold sweet little sleeping babies in your hand like this? And he is sleeping because I just fed him warm milk... don't we adore our human babies in the exact same kind of moment?
I love how they sleep, with their skinny baby tails curled up over their face like we might pull up our quilts on a chilly night. And you can see him contentedly moving his mouth, as if he's savoring little dreams of his recent meal. He's so young his ears are still bent down to his little head. His fuzzy forearms! Those too-big hands and feet! His tiny shoulder blades as he hunts for his sisters to sleep! His wobbly attempts to navigate the blanket .... (I know, somebody stop me!). Even if you're not a squirrel lover, you've gotta admit, these babies are cute.
Here's an even smaller one -- just crossing over from being what we call a pinky (no hair at all, just born). You can see me put the milk nipple into the frame for a second to get an idea of how small, if not by seeing him compared to my thumb. I have a focus problem near the end, but his little black nose and whiskers become clear so hang in there.
A face like that just makes me smile, every time!
Are you with me yet?
I know some people think they are tree rats and nuisances, building nests occasionally in someone's attic or eating all the food in the feeders folks put out to attract birds. But how can your heart not just swell to bursting with love when you hold sweet little sleeping babies in your hand like this? And he is sleeping because I just fed him warm milk... don't we adore our human babies in the exact same kind of moment?
I love how they sleep, with their skinny baby tails curled up over their face like we might pull up our quilts on a chilly night. And you can see him contentedly moving his mouth, as if he's savoring little dreams of his recent meal. He's so young his ears are still bent down to his little head. His fuzzy forearms! Those too-big hands and feet! His tiny shoulder blades as he hunts for his sisters to sleep! His wobbly attempts to navigate the blanket .... (I know, somebody stop me!). Even if you're not a squirrel lover, you've gotta admit, these babies are cute.
Here's an even smaller one -- just crossing over from being what we call a pinky (no hair at all, just born). You can see me put the milk nipple into the frame for a second to get an idea of how small, if not by seeing him compared to my thumb. I have a focus problem near the end, but his little black nose and whiskers become clear so hang in there.
A face like that just makes me smile, every time!
Are you with me yet?
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
The Only Big Cat That Likes Water
Thursday we walked through the zoo, which is just past the park we usually walk around. We have a membership and decided it's an easy way to stretch our exercise time to just sail through the gates and circle around whatever interests us. It's a big motivator when the scenery offers elephants, flamingos, bears, seals, raptors and lions.
It had been sprinkling and overcast, so the place was blissfully quiet and cool, unpopulated save for a few families, and thus free of the attendant chaos. The live oak trees --common to this area --with their incredibly long, low reaching limbs with fresh, shiny new leaves of spring fully unfurled on every branch created a protective canopy over our heads. We kept up our pace past twin cheetah kittens and the giraffes. But we were stopped dead in our tracks by the sight of one of the two brother tigers swimming his little lake.
Seems no matter what time of day we visit, usually the big cats are all sleeping. But there was the gorgeous, regal head of this creature, with it's bright orange fur slashed by jet black stripes, gliding smoothly though the darkened water.
His eyes were bright and blue. His thick paws were visible, paddling rhythmically, pushing him along on a diagonal and very deliberate path from one end to the other. He then climbed out, slinked across the grass past rocks and around trees to return to his starting point. Again he'd climb right in, and all but his paws would disappear as his body sank into the depths. His shoulder muscles were further defined with every stroke. Amid all this majesty, something cute: his tongue stuck out as he did it.
(click picture to enlarge)
We positioned ourselves (where I took the pic above) right in his sight lines. Here he swam VERY close to us. On one pass he made direct, proplonged eye contact. It was nothing short of chilling! This ain't no kitty, but a beautiful beast with quite humbling power -- a killing machine -- and there was only a short flimsy fence and an electrical deterrent between us.
It had been sprinkling and overcast, so the place was blissfully quiet and cool, unpopulated save for a few families, and thus free of the attendant chaos. The live oak trees --common to this area --with their incredibly long, low reaching limbs with fresh, shiny new leaves of spring fully unfurled on every branch created a protective canopy over our heads. We kept up our pace past twin cheetah kittens and the giraffes. But we were stopped dead in our tracks by the sight of one of the two brother tigers swimming his little lake.
Seems no matter what time of day we visit, usually the big cats are all sleeping. But there was the gorgeous, regal head of this creature, with it's bright orange fur slashed by jet black stripes, gliding smoothly though the darkened water.
His eyes were bright and blue. His thick paws were visible, paddling rhythmically, pushing him along on a diagonal and very deliberate path from one end to the other. He then climbed out, slinked across the grass past rocks and around trees to return to his starting point. Again he'd climb right in, and all but his paws would disappear as his body sank into the depths. His shoulder muscles were further defined with every stroke. Amid all this majesty, something cute: his tongue stuck out as he did it.
(click picture to enlarge)
We positioned ourselves (where I took the pic above) right in his sight lines. Here he swam VERY close to us. On one pass he made direct, proplonged eye contact. It was nothing short of chilling! This ain't no kitty, but a beautiful beast with quite humbling power -- a killing machine -- and there was only a short flimsy fence and an electrical deterrent between us.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Eagle Babies Cam
It's Spring again, and that means babies.... certainly baby birds. There's not much as special as being able to watch them in their nests, which is made possible by technology.
I am watching two adorable fuzzy bald eagles and a very good mom who tucks them under her when the wind blows... And the babies make sweet little chirps back to her.
MUST LOOK. So easy to keep open on one corner of your desktop while you TRY to concentrate on other things...
Monday, April 11, 2011
The Cat and the Dolphin
Oh for joy. Joy is what you will feel three seconds into watching this video. I am completely envious of this cat. At first I thought -- oh, look at that. They are communing, because they both know they are animals (and somehow of kinship). I thought the cat was on a boat and here comes this random encounter with a friendly dolphin. Then I saw a human with a training whistle, and thought, oh, these are trained dolphins. None the less, it is still beyond delightful to watch. And then I thought - that cat likes them because they smell like FISH. Enjoy.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
And you?
A bird does not sing because it has an answer.
It sings because it has a song
---- Chinese Proverb
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Exactly
Some keep the Sabbath going to Church
I keep it, staying at Home
With a Bobolink for a Chorister
And an Orchard, for a Dome
--Emily Dickinson
Saturday, March 5, 2011
Wanton Musings
Spring approaches here in Houston, even though it is still deep winter in many other places around the country. Alas, I have no garden to plant, so I am not pouring over seed catalogues or plotting out what will go next to what on graph paper or trying to make things sprout between moist paper towels under grow lights indoors in preparation. Someday though.
I do listen to gardening podcasts, buy way too many books about homesteading and devour magazines like Mother Earth, to make up for what I'd be learning if I were gardening all this time. If how stunningly I've failed in my efforts to keep the most basic container plants on my porch (I've even watched those bamboo shoots that require only a little water, no sun, no soil expire under my care) is any prediction of my abilities as a real gardener, then I would be among the pilgrims to die in the first winter in New England. I figure I will give myself 5 years once I get my hands in some soil to discover if I have what it takes or if I'm doomed to go to my grave a hopeless black thumb. So I need all the pre-study and experience that I can get.
It's not just gardening I'm interested in learning, but canning and preserving, bread baking, and other lost arts. There is a resurgence of interest in these things so I am hardly unique. But I claim to be apart from the hoards of former Yuppie urbanites who have cashed in their stilettos and nightclubs in search of a retro existence. They are mostly motivated by their babies, which certainly rips the needle off the record of the world that had been their formerly delicious, city life.
While my world may have consisted more of sparkly earrings, champagne and tall buildings, I have long been fascinated by people like the late Tasha Tudor, who had enough success to live as she wanted. She created her own world on her sprawling estate living with little or no electricity, cooking over a wood stove, sleeping in a cap, walking barefoot -- self sufficient well into her 90's.
And I am of the generation who read Little House on the Prairie and felt something shift when I read about their preparations for the winter: smoking, drying, cold storage, metering supplies to make it until the Spring came again. Those few long trips to the store in a town far away. Coming back with precious flour, sugar, coffee, a measure of fabric, and a few pieces of peppermint candy, among other treasures. Building fires that would burn all night, saving embers to start the stove in the morning. I still pull it out late in the Fall, between Thanksgiving and Christmas and read those parts and get completely lost in the pages.
Some people stick things in the ground, tend to it and harvest for the table, without much else to tell. I know several of these aliens. Their gardens burst forth with color and abundance. Everything they try - cumquats, persimmons, even cantaloup and corn by the walk - thrives. But I hear far more stories of the difficulties -- chronic destruction of tender shoots or worse -- of prized meager successes that are decimated just before harvest -- by one or another critter, bug or disease. Those with the best of intention to deal with these organically or by companion planting at the start end up in spraying the shit out of the everything with the strongest chemicals sold this side of the war or find themselves sitting in trees with night vision goggles and a rifle to finally kill the damn thing that ate all the corn/tomatoes/beans the night before picking.
Which, I wonder, will I be?
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Friday, February 4, 2011
Making the Rounds Before Ice
We're hunkering down, waiting for our ice storm with 1-3 inches of snow. Sounds too good to be true to me. The Houston Zoo closed at 3 today and I just got the word that I have the day off tomorrow, so I've been posting announcements on FB and Twitter to let the public know we're closed. Not that anyone has been there the last two days because it's been about 32 degrees. Other places around town are shutting down and sending people home as well.
It's kind of funny that everyone's bracing for an inch of snow but if there is black ice, no one can drive in it... Even if you were used to maneuvering in snow, which Houstonians are not, ice sneaks up on any and everyone.
For the present, I have been reveling in the cold. If you dress warmly --a thin long sleeved tee with a cashmere sweater over, a down jacket, one of those hats with ear flaps, good socks and gloves, it's fine. I have been driving right from work to Hermann Park to take walks instead of being on a treadmill at the gym.
I've done this the last four days in a row, multi-tasking exercise with feeding squirrels and ducks while it's light, and at night I've swung by all the places I feed squirrels in the residential areas that have dog parks and wide green esplanades where squirrels live. I drive through those areas regularly and toss small, unshelled nuts, that are bio degradable and that the birds may end up enjoying as much as anyone.
Squirrel baby season has just begun and there are a lot of mothers about to deliver and maybe a few who have delivered early, so I want to be sure they don't have to go far looking for food when it's this cold. This is a picture of a clearly pregnant Fox Squirrel. Houston's squirrels grow a bit of a coat, but it was 70 on Monday and it will be back into the mid 50's by Saturday -- they are not used to 17 and 28 degrees.
As a testament to that, I saw none out at all on Tuesday, fed only one by hand on Wednesday, and there were about 5 across the entire park and golf course last night. Normally there are tons, coming from every direction. I figure they must be curled up in their nests with their tails wrapped around them, trying to keep toasty warm.
Anticipating the big storm, both yesterday and tonight I brought cracked corn and 4 loaves of wheat bread to feed the ducks and geese too, in addition to my bags and bags of nuts for the squirrels , because there is no one in the park when it's this cold (or when it's rainy). They can fend for themselves but have come to rely on people who go and feed them breadcrumbs. When I got there the ducks came swimming at top speed to the shore, hopped out enmass, then ran (waddling) up... all shapes and sizes. Amid them, reassuringly, were lots of regulars: the wood duck couple, many muscovys (Elivs is still there), the lone black duck, a few Indian Runner ducks, lots of mallards and various pairs of white pekin buddies (the Afflack ducks), masses of black bellied whistlers, and the old tan and white crew with the poofs on their heads. There was a huge group of black water fowl of some kind resting on the island in the lake but they were uninterested. Either truly wild or fish eaters.
That one egret I've written about stalked around in the shallows but was just observing the action. He's a fish man all the way. I also saw one or two Blue Herons. Also not interested.
The 4 Chinese geese were trying to get everyone else to back off, which they usually succeed at because they are the biggest, but tonight the crowd wasn't having any. When I'd feed Mr. and Mrs. Goose, the bigger of the other goose pair was pulling on my pant let with his beak. He knows I feed Mr. and Mrs. more because they are more tempermental. Mr. Goose insists his Mrs. gets fed while he shoos others away and he's so sensitive that he often will leave... and she always follows. Too funny. I still toss to the other two geese when Mr. Goose is not looking so they really aren't ignored but it's an awful lot like being a drummer. Each of my limbs seems to be engaged independently to juggle these feeding frenzies.
One bright-eyed little squirrel came down, drawn by the commotion (which usually means someone has food) and tried to take a nut from me when he was the smallest among all those fluffy bird breasts and webbed feet. He darted up and out around those beaks that were trying to take the nut I had in my hand. I finally walked to the nearest tree and got him to climb up it so I could give him the nut while he was hanging onto the trunk, far out of others reach. Success. Seriously, they are that tame!
I left a handful of nuts at the base of his tree while I distracted the birds by throwing bread in the opposite direction. When I left I saw he was sitting on that nut pile, munching comically. There is no sight that does my heart more good than that. I don't know why if I've fed an animal I get the best feeling... like I've done my work, or maybe earned my keep, on earth for another day. I feel that way when I take everything to recycling too. For all the work of pulling off labels, rinsing containers, tripping over sorting bins in the small apartment -- not to mention pulling items out of the waste basket that everyone else still tosses way -- and hauling sticky bags and heavy bundles of magazines and paper, I still feel it's the least I can do to clean up after the enormous amount of trash we generate each week. Anyway....
Can't feed everyone, but I went far further than I usually do, scanning the trees for nests, which are easy to spot now that the branches are bare, and tossing handfuls of nuts at the base of each trunk. I drove to the other side, near the train station and stopped in the Rose Garden's parking lot where I saw a squirrel nosing around the ground. I got out of my car slowly, and approached, and she perked up and ran to me once she saw I was offering a peanut. She ate with such vigor that I felt all warm and wonderful. She was hungry... and I was so glad I could help.
It'd been 90 minutes now. It was getting pretty dark by the time I covered the whole park. My fingers were seriously frozen, even with gloves, and I was clapping and moving my digits rapidly as I walked to finish. I just wanted everyone to have a full belly or something waiting at the bottom of the trees before the storm hits.
As I left, I tossed the last of peanuts in shells at each of the massive Oaks lining the golf course, scraping my tires on the lip of the road as I tried to get as close as possible. I keep the passenger seat open and have become quite good a flinging and driving, but I make sure no one is behind me if I do. I do it with the peanuts in shells, because they are are easier for the squirrels to spot, (even though scent plays a very big role in foraging).
I came home, took a very hot shower. I wondered if tonight the ducks would take more cover rather than just tucking their heads under their wing as they sit on the shore's edge. I made a mental note to research that if I can find anything.
As I pulled my fluffy quilt up around my chin, I thought of each little squirrel curled up in their nests with their tails for cover, riding out the night's storm, and I drifted off peacefully.
Thank you to C.A. Mullhaupt for the use of the pregnant Fox squirrel picture from Flickr!
It's kind of funny that everyone's bracing for an inch of snow but if there is black ice, no one can drive in it... Even if you were used to maneuvering in snow, which Houstonians are not, ice sneaks up on any and everyone.
For the present, I have been reveling in the cold. If you dress warmly --a thin long sleeved tee with a cashmere sweater over, a down jacket, one of those hats with ear flaps, good socks and gloves, it's fine. I have been driving right from work to Hermann Park to take walks instead of being on a treadmill at the gym.
I've done this the last four days in a row, multi-tasking exercise with feeding squirrels and ducks while it's light, and at night I've swung by all the places I feed squirrels in the residential areas that have dog parks and wide green esplanades where squirrels live. I drive through those areas regularly and toss small, unshelled nuts, that are bio degradable and that the birds may end up enjoying as much as anyone.
Squirrel baby season has just begun and there are a lot of mothers about to deliver and maybe a few who have delivered early, so I want to be sure they don't have to go far looking for food when it's this cold. This is a picture of a clearly pregnant Fox Squirrel. Houston's squirrels grow a bit of a coat, but it was 70 on Monday and it will be back into the mid 50's by Saturday -- they are not used to 17 and 28 degrees.
As a testament to that, I saw none out at all on Tuesday, fed only one by hand on Wednesday, and there were about 5 across the entire park and golf course last night. Normally there are tons, coming from every direction. I figure they must be curled up in their nests with their tails wrapped around them, trying to keep toasty warm.
Anticipating the big storm, both yesterday and tonight I brought cracked corn and 4 loaves of wheat bread to feed the ducks and geese too, in addition to my bags and bags of nuts for the squirrels , because there is no one in the park when it's this cold (or when it's rainy). They can fend for themselves but have come to rely on people who go and feed them breadcrumbs. When I got there the ducks came swimming at top speed to the shore, hopped out enmass, then ran (waddling) up... all shapes and sizes. Amid them, reassuringly, were lots of regulars: the wood duck couple, many muscovys (Elivs is still there), the lone black duck, a few Indian Runner ducks, lots of mallards and various pairs of white pekin buddies (the Afflack ducks), masses of black bellied whistlers, and the old tan and white crew with the poofs on their heads. There was a huge group of black water fowl of some kind resting on the island in the lake but they were uninterested. Either truly wild or fish eaters.
That one egret I've written about stalked around in the shallows but was just observing the action. He's a fish man all the way. I also saw one or two Blue Herons. Also not interested.
The 4 Chinese geese were trying to get everyone else to back off, which they usually succeed at because they are the biggest, but tonight the crowd wasn't having any. When I'd feed Mr. and Mrs. Goose, the bigger of the other goose pair was pulling on my pant let with his beak. He knows I feed Mr. and Mrs. more because they are more tempermental. Mr. Goose insists his Mrs. gets fed while he shoos others away and he's so sensitive that he often will leave... and she always follows. Too funny. I still toss to the other two geese when Mr. Goose is not looking so they really aren't ignored but it's an awful lot like being a drummer. Each of my limbs seems to be engaged independently to juggle these feeding frenzies.
One bright-eyed little squirrel came down, drawn by the commotion (which usually means someone has food) and tried to take a nut from me when he was the smallest among all those fluffy bird breasts and webbed feet. He darted up and out around those beaks that were trying to take the nut I had in my hand. I finally walked to the nearest tree and got him to climb up it so I could give him the nut while he was hanging onto the trunk, far out of others reach. Success. Seriously, they are that tame!
I left a handful of nuts at the base of his tree while I distracted the birds by throwing bread in the opposite direction. When I left I saw he was sitting on that nut pile, munching comically. There is no sight that does my heart more good than that. I don't know why if I've fed an animal I get the best feeling... like I've done my work, or maybe earned my keep, on earth for another day. I feel that way when I take everything to recycling too. For all the work of pulling off labels, rinsing containers, tripping over sorting bins in the small apartment -- not to mention pulling items out of the waste basket that everyone else still tosses way -- and hauling sticky bags and heavy bundles of magazines and paper, I still feel it's the least I can do to clean up after the enormous amount of trash we generate each week. Anyway....
Can't feed everyone, but I went far further than I usually do, scanning the trees for nests, which are easy to spot now that the branches are bare, and tossing handfuls of nuts at the base of each trunk. I drove to the other side, near the train station and stopped in the Rose Garden's parking lot where I saw a squirrel nosing around the ground. I got out of my car slowly, and approached, and she perked up and ran to me once she saw I was offering a peanut. She ate with such vigor that I felt all warm and wonderful. She was hungry... and I was so glad I could help.It'd been 90 minutes now. It was getting pretty dark by the time I covered the whole park. My fingers were seriously frozen, even with gloves, and I was clapping and moving my digits rapidly as I walked to finish. I just wanted everyone to have a full belly or something waiting at the bottom of the trees before the storm hits.
As I left, I tossed the last of peanuts in shells at each of the massive Oaks lining the golf course, scraping my tires on the lip of the road as I tried to get as close as possible. I keep the passenger seat open and have become quite good a flinging and driving, but I make sure no one is behind me if I do. I do it with the peanuts in shells, because they are are easier for the squirrels to spot, (even though scent plays a very big role in foraging).
I came home, took a very hot shower. I wondered if tonight the ducks would take more cover rather than just tucking their heads under their wing as they sit on the shore's edge. I made a mental note to research that if I can find anything.
As I pulled my fluffy quilt up around my chin, I thought of each little squirrel curled up in their nests with their tails for cover, riding out the night's storm, and I drifted off peacefully.
Thank you to C.A. Mullhaupt for the use of the pregnant Fox squirrel picture from Flickr!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Wow
This is pretty stunning to actually see -- these massive animals who resemble us so much, but not really, we think... until we see them like this:
http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/bestoftv/2011/01/28/exp.am.vo.gorilla.upright.cnn?hpt=C2
I got the chills. How about you?
http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/bestoftv/2011/01/28/exp.am.vo.gorilla.upright.cnn?hpt=C2
I got the chills. How about you?
Sunday, January 9, 2011
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