Rose of Sharon, Team Player

This winter has been particularly snowy and cold.  We got several inches of snow, than several more.  Unlike most winters around here, there was no thaw in between snowfalls.  This makes things more challenging for the critters living out there.  Such as the rabbit living in my backyard, for instance.

It is not unusual for rabbits to eat of the burning bush or other assorted plants during winter.  This year though, the rabbit has turned a number of Rose of Sharon saplings into what looks like toothpicks after being dropped into a garbage disposal.  I refuse to take a picture of this Rose of Sharon graveyard.

There are several Rose of Sharons in my yard of varying height.  (Fully grown Rose of Sharon trees are about 10 feet tall).  These little trees seed themselves.  Therefore, there are little shoots growing around the full grown trees that, under ordinary circumstances, are considered weeds.  Last fall, however, I saved a good many shoots and scattered them around a big section of the yard.  See, the neighbor cut down a bunch of weed trees that had shaded that big section of the yard for some years.  This lack of sun killed the shrubs that used to grow there.  With the weed trees gone, we now have part sun, where there had been full shade.  My plan to move hostas and ivy and ferns to that area had to be altered.  Thus, there were numerous pencil thick Rose a Sharon saplings sticking up through the snow. 

How many remain?  We'll have to wait till spring to find out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One thing is for sure.  The Rose of Sharon have taken a hit for Team Rabbit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 23

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.

Today's question involves the twenty nine and a half foot tall statue of  Nelson Mandela.  He died on December 5, 2013 at the age of 95.  A statue to honor the first black president of South Africa was  unveiled in Pretoria on December 16th.

Not allowed to sign the statue on the bottom of a pant leg as they wished, the artists inserted a small object just inside one of the statue's ears.  What is the object?

Cyndi?

 

A South African flag?

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

Bryan?

 

 

 

Australopicus nelsonmandelai?

  It's an ancient woodpecker

 scientists discovered a year or so ago and

named it after Mandela.

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  I didn't know that!  No, the thing in the statue's ear is not a woodpecker.

Molly?

 

 

 

 

 

A squirrel?

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

Fluffy?

 

 

 

 

 

A clenched fist?

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

Cyndi?

 

 

 

A little statue of Winnie?

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

Molly?

 

 

 

 

 

A rabbit?

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  correct.  It is a bronze rabbit with one floppy ear, roughly half the height of the statue's ear canal.  The artists said since they weren't allowed to sign the statue, they added the rabbit as a sort of trademark.  Haas, which means rabbit in Afrikaans, also means haste.  The artists were rushed by the South Africa Department of Arts and Culture to finish the statue.  

 

So ends this round. 

 

 

Round 23

Fluffy/Molly 11

Bryan/Cyndi  10

 

 

 

 

 

 

By the way, the Department

 of Arts and Culture

 wants the ear hare removed. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe I Should Floss with Dog Hair

February is dog dental awareness month.  Yeah.  We know.  Brush your dog's teeth, so dirty bad plaque doesn't build up and ugly infection enter into the gums resulting in tooth loss and disease. 

My dogs get their teeth brushed with doggy toothbrushes and doggy toothpaste, their teeth rubbed with little gauze pads saturated with impressive sounding stuff like Chlorhexidine Gluconate. 

But let's talk about me.  Every six months I sit in a dental chair with my mouth agape while a woman scrapes my teeth with a silver tool.   Last week, there was a different hygienist.  I ask where Hygienist A is.  It seems a reasonable question since my appointment is specifically with Hygienist A.  Hygienist B answers curtly, "she's out."

I sit in the chair, my legs straight out.  As Hygienist B hovers over me, I hear myself sigh as I think, this chair has everything a Lazyboy has, except for comfort and relaxation.

Hygienist B works a lever and the chair raises a few inches.   "So.  You have pets," she says, pointing at my legs. 

I glance at my black pants expecting to see a bunch of short tan Mabel hairs.  She probably leaned on me this morning.

Nope.  No Mabel hairs.

Hygienist B informs me that she uses a tape roll tool on her clothes.  I'm still looking for hairs on my pants as she continues to expound on her victory over the untidy presence of pet hair. 

Hygienist B is wearing one of those pajama scrub ensembles popular in dentist offices.

Now the silver tool with the pick at the end makes an appearance in Hygienist B's gloved hand.  She goes after my front bottom teeth with great vigor.  This is where my shameful tea habit is on display. 

She lectures me on the things that stain teeth.  Hygienist B is leaning on my face as she scrapes my horribly filthy teeth.  Pain in my lip increases as she presses ever harder with her fist.

I miss Hygienist A.  She never leans on my face.

Hygienist B tells me it's good that I floss but that is just not enough these days.  She moves a wand around in my mouth. The wand emits a high pitched sound that I find distressing.  I tell her so.  She begins a discourse on this new tool that helps clean teeth with sound waves.  It occurs to me that only people comfortable with dog hair can hear it.

 I miss Hygienist A.  While cleaning my teeth, she chatters cheerfully about her family, camping, swimming, dogs. 

Hygienist B tells me that the reason I have occasional sensitivity in my upper teeth may be because of sinus issues.  That is interesting and something I did not know.  I thank her for that information.

Then Hygienist B announces that the sensitivity is most likely because I brush my teeth manually.  I snort.  She says, no really.  You're right handed right?  You are pressing too hard on that side.  Hygienist B advises that I should use a power toothbrush with extra soft bristles.  The toothbrush controls the number of revolutions and rpms or mph or something.  It does the job better than you can, Hygienist B declares. 

I think to myself.  There is a reason I drive a stick shift.


Finally the ordeal is over.  I feel like I have been beaten up.  I miss Hygenist A.  She cleans my teeth without hurting me.

Hygienist B tells me I can go "checkout at the front desk".  As I swing my legs out of the chair, at last I see a hair on my pants! 


It's one of my hairs.

Fluffy and George

 

 

 

 

 

Thanks for taking me to the dog park, Fluffy. 

It was a nice change of pace.                         

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                         

You're welcome,  George.

 

 

 

 

 

 





I didn't ask the dogs, to avoid embarrassment, should the reason be groomer related.  Why did some of the dogs have yellow ribbons on their leashes?

 

 
 







It's a "give the dog space" signal.  It's called The Yellow Dog Project and is going on in several countries. When you see a yellow ribbon you're not supposed to approach the dog because he is not amenable to being petted.  He may be "reactive" or nervous or elderly or what have you.  The yellow ribbon is like a warning.  It's supposed to teach people not to run willy-nilly up to a dog.

Wouldn't it make more sense to teach people to simply give all dogs some space?  After all, you humans don't run willy-nilly up to each other. Somehow that occurs without ribbons. Why make such a big deal out of dog/human encounters?

That makes too much sense.  Ribbons are big with people who say they want to raise awareness about something.  The ribbons draw attention to them. 

Yes. I see.

Dark-eyed Juncos

In autumn, flocks of Dark-eyed Juncos travel from the woodlands and mountains of the western United States, Alaska and Canada to the eastern United States.  Roughly the same group of birds make up a flock and fly to the same area year after year.  The flock spends the night as a group, which helps keep them warm and usually in a conifer, which helps protect them from predators.
 

Dark eyed Juncos are ground feeders.  They eat mainly seeds.  During the breeding season, they also eat bugs.


These are sparrow sized birds with a white belly and darker colored -either slate, brown or black- on the head, back and wings.  Their bills are pink.


In spring, the males fly to the breeding area ahead of the females.  Males stake out sections of the forest and do a great deal of singing.  When the females arrive, various strutting and singing occurs.  There are still many details of dark eyed Junco courtship yet to be learned.

The female builds a nest, usually on the ground.  The nest consists of twigs, pine needles, bark, moss, dried grass and feathers.

She lays 3-6 eggs and incubates them with no assistance from the male.  After the chicks hatch, both mom and dad feed them- seeds and bugs.  (The legs of insects are removed by the parent prior to feeding it to the youngsters.) 

For the first few days, the parents eat the fecal sacs (the poop of the baby birds that comes encased in a mucus membrane).  Later, the adults take the sacs to a tree branch and wipe them off their bill onto the branch.  Often the same branch is used over and over for this purpose.

Some Dark eyed Junco Facts

-  the color of the eggs are gray or pale blue with speckles of reddish brown

-  incubation:  12-13 days

-  nestling:  9-13 days

-  fledgling:  3 weeks

-  broods per year:  1-2




Yellow-eyed Juncos live in in the southwestern US and South America.

I Want a Raise

OK so maybe my dog walking contract isn't coming up for arbitration.  Nonetheless, I want a raise.  Never mind how I'm reliable, and good at my job and all that.  I need a raise due to the hazards and unpleasant surprises I endure in the line of duty.

Some of you are thinking:  Come on.  You've got the best gig in the world.  You get paid to walk dogs!  Fresh air.  Exercise.  Dogs.  You don't have to deal with people.

Well, see, that's the problem.  I DO have to deal with people.  That's why I want a raise.

Example.  I arrive at Charlie's house.  (Charlie is a pseudonym for a large friendly dog who is about 9 years old.  I have known and walked Charlie for some eight years.)

There's a sticky note on the door.  It reads, "shhh the baby's sleeping :)"

As quietly as possible, I insert my key into the lock and push the door open.  I ease inside expecting Charlie to trot merrily up the hall toward me.  No Charlie.

Employing my very best stage whisper, "Charlie!  Charlie?"

Faint whining from somewhere.

"Chaaarlie?"

More whining and the sound of a paw against a door.

There's a door to the right.  I open it.  Charlie emerges.  I quietly put his collar on.

Suddenly, a woman I've never seen before appears.  "Go away!"  She gestures violently.  It is not clear whether she is addressing me, Charlie, or the both of us.

She is looking directly at me now.  "Who are you?"  She looks a bit frightened. 

I feel a little sorry for her because I am no one to fear.  Mostly though, I am very ticked off that this encounter is happening at all.  "I am the dog walker.  Who are you?''  I reply.

Charlie moves toward the woman.  The woman ducks behind a door yelling, "get away!"

I mutter, "jeez, he's a Golden Retriever."  I am thinking something else but my good manners edit the remark.  I let Charlie outside and turn again to the woman.

"Who are you?"  she asks again.

I repeat that I am the dog walker and hand her one of my cards.  I point to the note on the door and ask if the baby is here.   The woman shakes her head.  She says, "I'm going to call Poopsie!"  (Poopsie is a pseudonym for Charlie's owner.)

"Please do."  In a tone slightly more hostile than intended, I add, "look.  I'm going to walk the dog now.  I have a key for the door."  I hold up the key so she can see it.  "This opens the inner door.  That's how I got in.  Please do not lock the outer door.  If you do,  I will have to break a window to get in, then YOU will have to explain the broken window to Poopsie."

I turn and join Charlie outside.  I do not close the door behind me.  Charlie and I take our walk.

I call Poopsie to determine my next move.  Should it turn out that Poopsie is, say, bound in the basement with duct tape, I will take Charlie home with me. 

Poopsie says the woman is the maid.  The maid is afraid of Charlie so Charlie is locked in the spare bedroom while the maid is there.  The maid doesn't usually come on Wednesdays.  The maid called her a little while ago and it's all straightened out.

In closing, Poopsie says, "I forgot to tell you."


If I had a dollar for every time a customer said, "I forgot to tell you"...

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 22

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.  Today's question is about Lena Dunham who writes and stars in "Girls", a show about some twenty something gals.  It airs on HBO.

It seems at a recent press meeting or writers' conference or something, that Ms Dunham attended, she was asked why she was naked so often on her show.  She said "being nude is a realistic expression of life" and the person who asked the question was just "not into her" and that was his problem.  Why the other characters on the show do not appear nude again and again was not fully explained due to the eruption of a "rage spiral" that evidently incapacitated some of the participants.  The discussion degenerated into name calling, nitpicking, and whining.

To win this round, explain all this to me.
Cyndi?

The way he asked the question was
 just rude and totally offensive.

 

 

Hostmaster: how do you figure that? He asked, as a fellow writer, about her writing choices regarding nudity of her character as it applies to the story line, right?
 

 

 

 

Oh no.  He was sexist the way he said it.

  Obviously, he is a misogynist because

 he doesn't find Lena attractive.
 

 

 

 

 

No. No. No.

I have been stuck in a room while that show is on.

  To suggest that the story would not be genuine without nudity is nonsense.
  This Lena person is so into herself,

 she can't freaking help but whip off her clothes every chance she gets.

  When questioned on it, she refuses to acknowledge
 her own pathology.  Instead,

 she lashes out at a guy

 asking a simple question about her work.

 

 

 

 

You don't know what you're talking about.

  She is an artist.  She is soooo honest in how she portrays Hannah.

  That sexist writer guy is jealous and mean spirited

 to second guess her art.

 

 

Hostmaster:  oy. 

Fluffy?

 

 

 

 

Is this Lena whatever the same bland doughy girl

 who gushed about her "first time" in the voting booth?

  She quite vulgarly implied that voting for Obama

was some sort of sexual experience.

  That she would go out of her way to get

 naked seems in character.

 

 

 

You are so lookist, Fluffy.  

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  "lookist"!  That's like being a bland-girl-phobe, right?!

 

 

 

 

You are such a hater. 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  I hate to break it to you sweat pea, but this whole thing doesn't mean enough to me to expend effort hating it.

 

 

 

 

 

"Bland girl phobe" is a good thing.

  Look. This 'Girls' show is about a bunch

 of self absorbed people with a grossly exaggerated

 idea of their own importance and by extension

 a grossly exaggerated expectation that other people

 find them fascinating. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

That explains it.  This round is over.

 

 

 

 

Round 22

Fluffy/Molly  10

Bryan/Cyndi   10

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pop Culture Frenzy, Round 21

Welcome once again to Pop Culture Frenzy.  Our question involves a South Carolina woman's less than merry response when her boyfriend came home on Christmas Eve without beer.

What happened?
Molly?

 

She locked him out of the house?

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

 Bryan?

 

 

 

She dragged him sober under the mistletoe?

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

Cyndi?

 

 

 

 

 

She realized that it was an intervention and joined AA.

 

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

Fluffy?

 

 

 

 

 

She went out herself to buy beer then ran off with the clerk

never to be heard from again.

 

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

Bryan?

 

 

 

 

She and the clerk drove around like Bonnie and Clyde

 robbing liquor stores until the cops shot them to death in their car?

 

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  incorrect.

Molly?

 

 

 

 

 

She hired a squirrel to beat him up?

 

 

 

 

 

Hostmaster:  that's actually close!  And close enough. 

 

 

Here's what happened.  He came home without beer.  She hit him over the head with a ceramic squirrel.  It broke.  She took a shard of squirrel and stabbed him with it.  When the police arrived, she told them he fell.  Unable to explain the blood on her hands, clothes and on the sharp chunk of ceramic in her fist, the police charged her with criminal domestic violence and tossed her in jail.

 

So ends another round of Pop Culture Frenzy.  Now.  Whose turn is it to buy the beer?

 

 

 

 

 

Round 21

Fluffy/Molly 10

Bryan/Cyndi   9