This Just In

 Rarely seen footage of a young flying squirrel's first attempt at flight.

Down Come the Rainbarrels

 The rain barrels must be taken down for the winter.  Frozen water doesn't flow.  My routine is to put them up around April Fool's Day and take them down around All Saints Day. 

These pictures are from August.

Sometimes the trail camera takes pictures of wind.  Rain is a little easier to see.

This runoff bucket is the reason the trail camera was positioned there.  My hope was that the camera would catch the culprit.  You see, every now and then this bucket is found lying on its side.  Who is doing it?  Alas. There are no pictures of anybody caught in the act.  Not even the wind.

Suspects abound.

Ducks like water but it's probably not them.

Not highly likely.

Other suspects:

Unlikely, a bucket is not her style.  She'd rather lick dew off the side of the rain barrel.

 

Maybe

Maybe

Don't know

Perhaps

Possible

Likely

We may never know.

PETA disapproves of Pets

PETA is back to help us use proper words when it comes to those animals that share our lives.  You see, the word "pet" is "harmful".   "Companion Animal" is OK.  It's vague enough not to be considered "Speciesist Language" evidently.

According to a February 5th announcement from PETA, addressing animals as "it" is also harmful.  We should use terms such as he, she or "dog guardian".  (One would think the word "dog" is specieist but using logic will get us nowhere here.)  PETA is concerned that we mustn't get the feeling that an animal is a human owned object.  

Wrong PETA.  Call me anything, just call me in time for dinner.

What is this obsession with pronouns?

Here's a brain teaser.  I'm a biological male with no testicles.  What is my pronoun?

I'm a feral cat but I just have to weigh in on this.  Wake up, PETA.  No animal gives a hoot what you call it.

Dear PETA,
You know how sometimes your dog tilts his head when you talk to him?  News flash. He is not trying to ferret out harmful words.

OK PETA, you want to help me out?  The next time you run a chicken truck off the road, deliver the birds to me.

PETA, it is you who are an object.  A tool.  I own you.  Me and my bretheren live in your heads.  Now, serve up some pate'.

I may look mild mannered, but if PETA came to my house and hassled my people about their vocabulary, I would use my teeth on them.  Ya know?

Just tell me, how would my quality of life improve if I became a "dog guardian"?

Read the PETA crap here 

By the way, you bossy boots wack jobs, sometimes Lynn calls me a Pomeranian Freak.  Is that harmful too?  Like xenophobic or something?  Hey, PETA!  Bite me.

Walk Boldly and Carry a Small Stick

It is a daily routine here at the homestead to walk around the grounds.

Due to increased spider webbage this time of year, I carry a skinny stick which I wave in front of me as we move along.  This reduces the number of web hits to the face.

It's amazing how high and invisible some of those webs are.  Anyway, every action has a reaction.  My walking companions are not excepted from this rule.

Clover seems put off by my behavior -leery even.  Lily seems indifferent.  Henry remains inner focused.

You're marching around like a crazed majorette and you expect nobody to notice?!

Nothing you do surprises me anymore.

Can I have that stick when you're done with it?

It's a Bit Nippy for June

Things are green here at the homestead.  It's been a particularly rainy spring. 

The frog population has exploded.  They've  even wandered into the inner perimeter.

They'll have plenty to eat.  The mosquito population has exploded too.  A certain ranch hand, always popular with the blood suckers, has been mercilessly tapped.

There's been some night time temperatures in the forties.  Had to cover the tomato plants!

Wild violets don't mind a nip in the air.

Neither do Great Pyrenees.

Alas, neither do mosquitoes.

Of the Collective

Collective nouns, that is.  There are cool words to describe groups of critters.  You know, a herd of cattle, a hum of bumblebees, a bucket of pheasants, a kindle of kittens, a business of ferrets....

A crow considers participating in a murder.

This member of an army of frogs is on guard duty.

Here we have a small charm of finches.

A bunch of ants are called a colony, clump or swarm.  The correct term probably depends on the activity going on or type of ant being described. We know this for sure.  Ants of the magic marker variety are called a drawing of ants.

This squirrel is on time out from his scurry.

A gang of turkeys looking for trouble.  Such hoodlum turkeys are also known as a raft.

A term inspired by famous bad guy George Raft?

Ducks stand in a puddling.

A dole of doves sit on a rock.

This is not a knot of toads.

One walking stick short of a faggot.  (OK.  I made that one up.)

Meanwhile at the Homestead...

Will this be the next critter added to the gang at Bad Dog Ranch?

First I must research the fencing requirements of snowmen...

Don't Spook the Deer

The line to vote began at the door and coiled over and over many times before entering the roped section.  Serpentine.  It reminded me of an enjoyable figure skating drill.  Gliding across the ice, crossing one foot over the other, opposite edges of the blade back and forth.  This voting serpentine was slower without ice, needless to add.

It was strangely pleasant packed in that way in this small town, small building.  Strangers and neighbors calmly sardined in line to fulfill a civic duty. 

When the election results came in, Trump won.  "That's not fair!  He didn't win the popular vote!"   Must we review the electoral system for whiny disappointed voters every time they lose?

Now it's time to be sure the PRIVATE PROPERTY, NO HUNTING,  KEEP OUT signs are in place.  Deer hunters are making ready.  When Mabel was alive I used to worry that some over enthusiastic hunter would mistake her for a deer.

I have no delusions that I can protect the deer around here but I sure don't want some lout tromping around my back yard- that includes the neighbors with whom we share a tree line.

One particularly unpleasant tree line neighbor believes that if you fire a gun close to the start of deer season, it will spook the deer.  Yeah.  Sure.  The deer who live around here hear gunfire everyday.  Of course they will be spooked by gunfire in November. 

Never argue with a crazy person.  Our guns are silent.