A big No-no!

Hooper didn't run away today. That made it a good day.

He crosses his legs like a lady.
And he sings. Since there's some husky or malamute in there, he doesn't bark. He yodels...especially when we all howl at him. "Aaaaa-wooo-wooo!"

But the poor guy doesn't get any love, really. We really don't care about him.

No hugs, no affections.

The kids can't even stand him. Poor neglected puppy.


(This is what happens when you try to get a macro shot of his eyes)

I talked to Shannon about any Hooper specs I needed to know. His age three years ago when she first got him was calculated at 6 to 8 years. That makes him 9 to 12. It was hard to tell his exact age because he apparently used to chew rocks and his teeth are a bit worn. No wonder he walks a bit creaky...he's a senior citizen.

I had a program at a local, eco-friendly pre-school summer program, and they were so impressed and thrilled with my visit, they scheduled me for next summer right on the spot. You can imagine that made me feel good. On the way back, I saw this license plate:

It probably stands for "Black Satin", but I read "Black Satan". Or it could be "Block Satan"... or "Blink Saturn"......



Okay. I have kept this a secret long enough. We have a barn owl at RAPTOR. He was injured while hung up on a gutter or downspout or something. A large amount of skin was sheared off, and it's been difficult to get it to heal. One of our vets suggested amputation, but we aren't ready to give up on him yet. But it is looking like he will be a program bird, even if he gets to keep his wing. I have never wished a bird NOT to be released, but I can't pretend that I
would not happy to have him for programs. Most people have never even seen a barn owl, and they are not doing so well throughout their range, which is extensive. Birds of Ohio states that there are maybe 50 nesting pairs in Ohio, though there are probably more than we realize. Still, an uncommon bird.
*Susan does the Snoopy dance*

His unofficial name is "No-No". Barn owls when they are young have a damn cute thing that they do when they are threatened. They spread their wings, lower their head
and shake it, like they are saying, "no, no, no..."
When I dropped off my birds today, one of our volunteers was on her way down to do some stuff with him, so I had to get one picture, just through the cage door:

That's just a damn cute bird.

Flycatcher? Pewee? Phoebe?

I need help.
Well, maybe that's not news.

Lake Isabella has been a pleasant surprise this Spring. I have been parking on the river side of the park and warblers and lots of other birdies are hanging from the trees.

Who was the first person to discover a blue-gray gnatcatcher? He or she must have had eyesight like a microscope. They are so tiny!

Okay. What the hell is this?
I have been pouring over my field guides, and I admit that this particular branch of the bird family tree is confusing to me. I felt better when I read in the Stokes guide that even "experts" have trouble with the empidonaxes and usually have to rely on song for ID.
Well, I didn't hear this one singing, so I am stumped.
At first, I thought Eastern Wood Pewee.
Then I thought maybe an Acadian Flycatcher.
Then I thought it kind of looked like a phoebe.
Each new picture I see, I change my mind.
Someone who knows what they are talking about has to help me.
Oh! I forgot to tell everyone that I got a life bird the other day on the way to a program.
An eastern kingbird! Whoot!
But I was too busy trying to find the group I was presenting to, to get a photo.

Geoff took the girls to the grocery store with him tonight (is he great or what?) so Nellie and I spent some time in the yard. It sure is nice to be able to walk through it without worrying that a snake or Jimmy Hoffa isn't going to jump up out of the grass.
This is the enlarged prairie. I would like to make it even larger, but I have to go slow and keep Geoff from freaking out about it. I personally would love it if all the grass died, so I could easily fill the yard with native plants.

The robins came out of the woodwork when the grass finally got chopped.
I love to watch them probing for worms in our nice, chemical-free lawn, because they won't be bringing mutated babies into the world.
Who wants to see baby robins with three heads and that glow in the dark?

The purple martin is still here. And the tree swallows have been checking out the bluebird house. No nest building from them yet, but I hope they stick around.
We won't have to worry about too many flying insects, will we?
And if we get the new bat house up, the mosquitoes will be taken care of too!

"I ate before you ate, tee"?
Tee? What does that mean?
"See" would have made more sense.
Either way, I love it when people get creative with the seven characters the BMV gives us.

34 is NOT the new 20

Not an exciting post tonight. I had a nice day making phone calls for RAPTOR, enjoying the warm wind and bright sun.

Isabelle knows that putting things around the pets' neck is a no-no, but I laughed when she accessorized Powder. Cat bling!

Photos from other days...Lorelei in black and white.

I love vanity plates. I used to think that only self-indulgent people put them on their cars, but some people can be quite clever.
Another one I have seen, but I couldn't get a picture of: FRTBRKR. Fart-breaker?

The GHO on this poster reminds me of Junior...who is doing well in captivity. He's fed and he's happy. Someone is interested in taking him as an educational bird. I will keep you informed.

Something happened today that made me realize that I really wasn't "young" anymore.
When Geoff uses my car, he usually listens to the local OLDIES station, WGRR. When I turned on the radio, I heard J. Geils "Angel is a Centerfold". On an oldies station.
Then I started to think about how old that song actually is. It's more than 20 years old.
And I listened to it when it was new. Oh, Lord.