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Please, make your voice heard.

Okay, I am finally going to stick these up here. A week late. Sean and I swapped boats. Did I mention that? I am old and I forget. Here is what I feel like in Sean’s boat, that is just like my poor, departed, cherished yellow boat:

Just wanted to know if I could still do it. No I am not urinating. That I will not try anymore. I’m old. The JBL waterproof speaker system. A necessary part of my gear. And believe it or not, the birds and the animals like it and stay put, or come out, as I pass by. Canoes just suck. NOT!!!And this is one reason why we like to go around 4:00 PM and paddle until it gets dark. Plus the birds and animals get very active at twilight, and the fish, too. The schools of small minnows come up and make the surface of the water sparkle with their synchronous movements. They do not mind very much if you lift your paddle and glide through them. More on animals at a later date. I have soooo many pictures to sort through.    The difference between technologies, like day and night, so to speak, together in the same twilight dream world as we wend on our separate ways.But here I fear in the northern hemisphere, there is no Southern Cross, just the boats, the twilight, the music, the lake creatures, my eldest son, and me.

It is enough.

Harold has brought it to my attention that I have not told you much about him lately, and that his first liaison with a member of the opposite sex this year is big news. We have already seen quite a few turtles, which must be due to the warm winter and spring we’ve had, because we usually don’t see many until late June. They started showing up outside looking for the red plates with their bananas around the first of June this year, and we were caught unprepared with the red plates still in the storage box on the patio, and no bananas at hand. On her next trip to the store Lisa took care of the “Yes, we have no bananas!” situation. I got the red plastic plates out of the box and washed them, cut a banana in half, peeled them and put one piece on each plate and set them out in the feeding area.The turtles have been most grateful and have taken advantage. So far this year, however, the only ones we had seen were males, with bright red or orange eyes, flashy markings on their heads, very colorful scales on their legs, and concave plastrons.

No brown-eyed, flat bellied demure ladies had appeared, except maybe one I didn’t go out to check because Harold’s mommy was home, and she doesn’t like it when he has lady visitors. That changed last Sunday shortly before noon, just as we were getting ready to go out the door to meet my new grandnephews at my sister’s house.

Harold started banging around in his back window, so Lisa went to check on him and yelled to me, “There’s a turtle out there! Harold wants you to go out and check it to see if it’s a girl!” So I did, and it was. I recognized her as one of Harold’s former paramours from previous years, by a notch broken out of the right side front edge of her carapace. I brought her in and set her down on the floor. She never had drawn in and closed her shell, so she was obviously familiar with me and her surroundings. She looked around a bit, then walked over to peak through the pots at Harold. He had no idea she was there, though he did kind of look over his shoulders a bit, as if he were puzzled. Lisa asked, “Are you going to leave her in here.”

My response: “Well, yes. If you didn’t want me to, why did you tell me to go look?”

“Well…” she said. “I guess if I’m not here it will be okay. Are you sure they’ll be okay?”

“If she doesn’t flip him upside down, and he doesn’t lay there waiting for me to help him flip back over, sure.”

“Well, okay then.” And out the door we went at around 11:45.

When we got home a little after 4:00 Harold was still “waving his hands in the air like he just don’t care.” Typical turtle mating time is about three hours. And it looks rather ridiculously comical…She must really like him. She had his toenails clamped, and she was not letting go. They were still playing leap-frog when we headed for bed. Needless to say, they slept in.

Monday morning she was sitting behind Lisa’s end table, staring at Harold’s back. He was sitting in front of the air filter intake about two feet in front of her. I picked her up and moved her to the courtyard of Harold’s Enclave, and then I prepared breakfast for her: banana, meal worms, grapes, lettuce and whole wheat bread. She just looked at it. A short while later the cats came in for their milk and kibble/Friskie’s mixed gourmet breakfast. When they encountered her they backed-off and stared. This surprised me greatly, because they are quite used to Harold, and he to them, and they get along fine. They play all around him and sit on his hut and accidentally step in his hot tub, but he doesn’t blink an eye or move an inch, unless they almost kick him in the face. Basically they leave each other alone. He does like to watch them, but preferably when they’re outside.  The kittens however did not know what to think of her. This was not their turtle! She didn’t mind them. The only time she ever pulled her head in during her entire stay was when Harold was tapping and biting at her shell while trying to woo her. She ignored the kittens. Harold finally came to life after the kittens were done eating. He came out from behind Lisa’s chair and “darted” past the open patio door, as always, went straight to his “hot tub” and jumped in. He sat for a few minutes, eyeballing his girlfriend, then lumberously crawled out slopping water everywhere, went to his north side window, plopped down, yawned, and started watching for lizards on the neighbor’s foundation blocks. He likes to watch lizards, and squirrels, and raccoons, and birds, and kittens… The lawn care guys scare him.

At any rate, it was obvious Harold’s lady friend was not hungry, Harold was tired, and Lisa said that the lady friend should be on her way before they recovered because there would be no hanky-panky or hand waving while she was there. I accordingly escorted her to the edge of the woods and set her down. After looking over her shoulder longingly at the patio door for a few moments, she went on her way. She was Harold’s very first ever “over-night guest.” I believe they both had a very nice time, and the way she was looking back at the door I expect we will see her again, soon.

Sound, please!

https://youtu.be/_2e2kC-geMI

For those who may have wondered about how the little yellow boat I keep referring to was lost, it was kind of like this…

Right click link and select “Open Link in New Tab : http://www.tristatehomepage.com/news/video/water-rescue-on-pigeon-creek_20170503020337/705235866

Please do not go out on flooded creeks if you aren’t an accomplished paddler who knows the dangers of paddling in flood waters, and even then, if you look away for one second you can find yourself in trouble very, very quickly. And no, I was not hugging the log. I was sitting on it quite comfortably talking to 911 on my cell phone IN ITS WATERPROOF BAG hung around my neck. (Don’t forget your phone, and make sure it is fully charged when you set out.) And it was more like two hours before they were able to locate me. If you do go out there, watch for every nuance that indicates something ahead of you in the water, and check behind you too. Logs coming down the creek behind you are moving faster than you. I’m pretty sure that’s what got me, or a river monster bumped me while I was leaning over for my water bottle that had fallen out of its holder. I towed my boat behind me for twenty minutes swimming to get to shallow water, and then I saw we were going to be swept into a log over which water was pouring, and I knew I could be crushed between the boat and the log, or sucked underneath the log with the boat. I got on the back side of her, kissed her goodbye, let her go, and as she was sucked under I grabbed onto the log, HELD on until I could free my right leg from the current trying to suck me under with her, hooked my leg over the log and hauled myself up. Then it was a matter of sitting butt deep in cold water for two hours waiting. I did manage to hang onto my dry bag and my paddle. The rescue squad ended up with my paddle. They forgot to take it out of the raft, and I told them if they could use it, please keep it.

https://youtu.be/9epgm4R2c8k

I hope to have my replacement boat the first part of August. People wanted me to promise I would never go out on flood waters again in this new boat. I told them I could not make that promise, but if I do, I will be wearing my life jacket. I might not have lost my canoe if I had been. I would have been able to come up under it and lift it over my head into the air, flip it and climb back in. Ah well. Hindsight is 20/20 vision.

There is something about getting up at 5:00 on Sunday mornings, to watch the sun come up, listen to the birds in full throated joy, sip my Gevalia Columbia and smoke my pipe. Peaceful, joyful, idyllic: words alone cannot touch it. The feeling washes over me and permeates my body and brain. The only other time I am this relaxed is when I am in one of my boats on a lake or creek at sunset. The whole world seems to be at peace for once, unlike most other times of the day, and most other settings.

At any rate, Harold, the cats and I have been listening to the birds while the cats had their breakfast and we all had a wonderful morning. I moved the bowls even further into the room, and they are getting very, very comfortable coming in and out.

I suppose I will contact the humane society this week to find out when I can bring them in. It will not be a happy day for me or Lisa, but it will be best for them.

We have to go to my sister’s house today to meet our two new grand nephews. That should be fun. Babies are good for the soul.

I’m hoping Clark and I may be able to get on the lake later this afternoon. shortly before dusk. We’ll see.

Just goes to show you, my intuition told me several times I should read my “Horrorscope” and look at my Tarot card, number and I-Ching hexagram for the day. I did not do it, until just now. “Sigh……” I could have saved myself some grief…

“Horrorscope”

Taurus

KNOWING WITHOUT KNOWING

Intuition sometimes feels unsettling. You know something without knowing why. It’s easy to doubt both this knowledge and yourself, especially if it concerns issues that could have a long-term impact on your life. You are likely to face just such a situation today. If so, the advice is to go with your gut.

This is the first 2 day in a 1 month. The ambitious 1 should inspire you to move forward all month. However, the influence of today’s sensitive, gentle 2 is even stronger. This lends a heightened awareness of the subtle signs around you that can help smooth egos as well as obstacles. Just be aware of its tendency to be a little emotional, and sometimes quick to overreact.

The evening will likely put you in a more stable mood. Romance is favored.

(At least there’s hope for some sort of good outcome!)

Hexagram

8: Holding Together

July 1st, 2017

Holding together brings success. But high-level teamwork is achieved only when the right players on the right team share a clear goal at the right time. A team forms its relationships in a delicate manner; chemistry is brewed in the vat of shared experiences. Latecomers cannot share the same depth of union as earlier members. Whole-hearted commitment is required for team success.

All successful teams have a shared vision and a leader. If a team’s leadership is up to the challenge, the team will prosper. In personal and business affairs, just as in basketball, it is hard to win without a strong center.

Accept the structure of the team or partnership if you wish to receive its benefits — otherwise go off on your own. In holding together with others, cling to your own principles, but be willing to subordinate your personal desires for the good of the group. Perhaps you are contemplating becoming a leader of some group; remember that to become the center of influence binding people together is not only a considerable challenge but a serious responsibility. Assess yourself carefully first to see if you are up to the task. If not, it would be better not to commit rather than to go forward without proper preparation.

So there you go. If I had looked at these earlier it is possible I may have altered my schedule and itinerary. I spent most of my day while not doing chores with these guys, trying to further inure them to my benign presence.

They are irisistable. I rest my case. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll get around to those Loon pics from Thursday. But these guys are hard to ignore. Harold, on the other-hand, is not impressed.

Didn’t make it back. You figured that out, though, yes? I will try to post the Loon trip later. I did just put up chapter three of Harold’s Room. Hopefully that will hold you over until I get my chores done. Harold, the kittens and I are listening to this while “we” work:

Here’s the full album if you would care to listen along with us.

Herbie’s projects are always interesting and enjoyable with wonderful guest artists.

 

https://youtu.be/IlcbeuF0ylo

Look at this crap:A turtle delicacy platter that Harold won’t eat (just the meal worms in the blue scoop), kitty kibble garnished with taco meat and pork chop, cut into bite size pieces for tiny kitty mouths I might add, and milk of course. Plus there is the black oil sunflower seed to be put out for the squirrels and the birds, and thistle seed for the finches, and nectar for the hummingbirds, and banana and a peach for the turtles, and the water bowl and “pond” to flush and fill… I have been feeding or caring for somebody since 7:30 this morning, and cleaning the hummingbird feeders, and Harold’s plate, and planting for Lisa in a pot she decorated that I sprayed with sealer yesterday. Pretty, huh?

A turtle that was sneaking down the back wall when I first went out on the patio this morning ate some banana from one of the red plates in the feeding area, but I was busy with cats and didn’t see him. Everybody came in for breakfast this morning, even Stripey Cat, so I am making headway. A couple of the kittens even poked around inside for a bit, including Jackson, Tiny Terry, Pretty Face and Little Tiger. Definitely progress. It will be a whole lot easier to sneak around the house and shut the patio door than to catch them all in that pet carrier at the same time. Once the patio door is shut the fun will begin! You will note that the paper plate and the milk bowl are both magically moving further and further inside. Stripey Cat is looking at the threatening ceiling fan. She got over it.

I am waiting for our favorite boy to poo and get out of the tub so I can get in. Last time I checked he was standing behind the shower curtain facing the rear of the tub stiff-legged, with his head straight up in the air, staring me in my eye.

“Go. Away.”

He has been in there for at least three hours. Some days he does love his spa treatments. Mood lighting. Incense. A nice cleansing, inside and out so-to-speak, and then rubbed down with “sweet smelling oils.” No wonder he won’t go out the open patio door. Now, if the “handmaidens” would just appear… It just started to rain, and they like that, so there is a possibility. Hear that, Harold?! You had best take care of business! I need to get in the shower so I can go get my scraggly self trimmed.

Okay. He’s out, so it’s my turn. You will note he is giving me a haughty look and refusing to eat his din-din as projected.

I hope to be back later to post some pics from an excursion to Loon Pit Sean and I took yesterday evening. My favorite time on the water is at sunset, and just after in the twilight. It was peaceful, calming and fun. Yes. We were playing music.

A Tull tune to hold you over. Listen carefully to the words. It is not what you think.

Accompaniment first as usual…>>>

though it may have distracted you just a bit. That’s okay. Us too. Harold and I have been threatening to play the album for days. For some reason Lisa does not appreciate it as much as Harold and I. Anyway, listen and read, if you would be so kind? I texted her earlier, and this is how we got here:

I am somewhat at peace with myself and who I am today. Have been listening to the birds and the crashing in the bushes and branches and the squirrels barking at the cats and… Some birds out there I haven’t been able to spot are making the oddest babbling noises, making conversation in a language I don’t understand. It must be time to really play The Secret Language of Birds. Finally. I wish you could hear them. They sound like cockatiels or small conures.

And so Harold and I are listening quietly to this wonderful live performance we have not heard before. We must not drown out the source of the inspiration: The Birds.  Atypically we will keep the sound level at 20. It’s usually at 30, 40, 50…

We had been arguing about who would use the tub first, but he is here:

And I can’t reach him. He knows that very well, so the discussion is at an end and I will go first. His Majesty prevails in mortal combat once more.

Need more coffee!

Uh oh. The pot is empty. I suppose a Newcastle Brown will have to do. Hope to be back later.

Harold has pretty much kicked back for the day. Yesterday was bath day, so if he wanted hydration today he could jump in his “hot tub.” He spent most of his day watching squirrels, birds, lawn care guys, (I love the free-standing condo!) and kittens. BUT he says>>>

We’ll see how that goes. (He’ll be down by dark.) Though occasionally he does stay up well past dusk. If the raccoons are busy he’ll stick around.

Do you like the red lights? They see well in the dark. I do not. But now with these I do, unlike most humans, so we are on equal footing and get along very well. These are some of our friends, though the bitch down the street went to the HOA and I can’t hand feed them anymore. Aren’t the babies cute? One of them is Sweety, and she used to sit between my feet while she ate her piece of whole wheat bread so the other raccoons wouldn’t take it, and she’d reach in the webbing of my sandles and play with my toes… She always wanted to climb my leg and sit in my lap. I’d tell her “No no Sweety! We mustn’t get too intimate!” We were both comfortable with that relationship. Unfortunately these aggressive ‘coons were evidently harassing “someone.” The last time I fed her a piece of bread I told her she couldn’t come in anymore, and closed the screen in her face. She climbed the screen to my eye level and looked straight into them wanting to know, “Why can’t I come in with you?”

“Because the lady down the street doesn’t like you, doesn’t understand you,  or your kind. Sweety. I’m sorry.”

Okay then. Nasty Lady. Raccoons on the rampage! Want to see what happens if I jump out in the middle of this pack of aggressive beasts and yell “BOO!” and shoot them with the flash? This:

Ferocious beasts. And regarding ferocious beasts…

I am making tangible progress in taming the kittens, and even Stripey Cat!

Breakfast:

Dinner:

We’re getting there. Hopefully can soon get them corralled in Harold’s Room and into that carrier so I can get them to the Humane Society. Supposedly I need an appointment. Last time I called best I could do was a week out. ??? Eight feral cats loose in our sunroom for a week? Wish us luck, and pray Harold survives seven kittens!