Goslings and Ducklings

It's that time of year again! Sarah and Mama spotted five gosling's following Mother and Father Goose on the pond this afternoon!

And they swam and they swam, all over the dam!

Of course, we had to hold one of the babies. He was light as a feather and downy soft!

We placed him on the ground and Mama "honked" once and he ran as fast as his little goose legs would carry him....



Mother and Children Reunion!

It's like the other four are saying, "Hey, where you been???"

... and, remember the baby ducks from four years ago? shhhhhhhhhhh! Don't tell anyone... There is a Mama Duck that has been on the nest for about 18 days now!!!

Red Sky in Morning...

As I was leaving this morning...

A panoramic of three separate shots.

Reflections

My blog usually doesn't reflect the things that most would consider current events. While I watch more news than movies, listen to NPR on my commute to work and read the news websites, I usually just absorb the tit-bits and don't write about them. But what happened yesterday, I am moved to express my feelings.

The news yesterday from Virginia Tech is not shocking to me. Don’t get me wrong – it is a tragedy. In my 50 years, America has changed. Crime, even in small towns, has exploded. The nightly news has become a grocery list of the wrongs that people have committed against their fellow man. We cringe at the reports of yet another injustice done to the innocent. But, the evil that we hear about is not new. Are we just more exposed to it? Everything thought to be news worthy hits the airways. Shock Jocks and Reporters are stirring the pot. Over 24 straight hours of news coverage and counting. And we watch, like the proverbial train wreck, we watch.

I followed the headlines on the Internet yesterday.

12 Killed at Virginia Tech…
22 Reported Dead on Virginia Tech Campus…
32 Dead in the Worst Massacre Ever…

I am afraid that we are yet to see the Worst Massacre Ever!

So… Why did it happen? Can it happen in my hometown? Is the school down the street the next one to have dozens of T.V. news vans with satellite dishes on top in the parking lot?

Why??? Human nature? Can’t people just get along? Why do people feel that they must get even with someone that has wrong them? Where is the Golden Rule? What about forgiveness? In the midst of such disastrous event, where can we turn?

How about God?

I'm praying for my town, my region, my state, my country. I'm praying for what we as Christians have called revival. A renewal of God's Spirit, God's love and God's grace. This is the only way true forgiveness can be expressed and experienced.

For the Victims at Virginia Tech

"If Everyone Cared" by NickelBack

From underneath the trees,

we watch the sky

Confusing stars for satellites

I never dreamed that you'd be mine

But here we are, we're here tonight



Singing Amen, I, I'm alive ( I'm alive )

Singing Amen, I, I'm alive.



[Chorus:]If everyone cared and nobody cried

If everyone loved and nobody lied

If everyone shared and swallowed their pride

Then we'd see the day when nobody died



And I'm singing

Amen I, Amen I, I'm alive

Amen I, Amen I, Amen I, ( I'm alive)



And in the air the fireflies

Our only light in paradise

We'll show the world they were wrong

And teach them all to sing along



Singing Amen, I, I'm alive (I'm alive )

Singing Amen, I, I'm alive...



[Chorus x2]



And as we lie beneath the stars

We realize how small we are

If they could love like you and me

Imagine what the world could be

If everyone cared and nobody cried

If everyone loved and nobody lied

If everyone shared and swallowed their pride

Then we'd see the day when nobody died

When nobody died...



[Chorus]



We'd see the day, we'd see the day

When nobody died

We'd see the day, we'd see the day

When nobody died

We'd see the day when nobody died

Rain and Wind

Last night the weather got rough again in southern Georgia.

As we head for bed last night, the thunder had just started rolling. I let Metro outside to take care of business one more time. The rain was just beginning, the deck was sprinkled with drops.

Our last rain of any significance was 31 days ago. We have been in a no burn Red Flag warning for most of March and all of April. The Georgia Weather website has reported Slight Drought Conditions:

Most of Georgia is now experiencing mild drought conditions. The state has been teetering between abnormally dry and mild drought since spring 2006. An abnormally dry winter has led to very dry soils, record to near-record low stream flows, low reservoir and farm pond levels and dropping groundwater levels across most of Georgia.

Stream flows statewide are abnormally low for late March, too. The U.S. Geological Survey reports record low daily flows on the Flint River near Griffin, Alcovy above Covington and Middle Oconee near Athens.

Most rivers and streams north and west of a line from Brunswick to Dublin to Lincolnton are at or below the 10th percentile for the date. At the 10th percentile, we expect more water in the streams nine out of 10 years.

Most major lakes in the state are near the desired level for late March. West Point, Walter F. George, Clarks Hill, Allatoona and Carters are all at or slightly above the guidance level for late March. Lanier, Hartwell and Seminole are running 0.5 to 1.66 feet low for late March.

Farm ponds across much of the state are low.

The state had less than desirable groundwater recharge this winter. Groundwater levels are dropping statewide

We finally got rain last night, nearly two inches overnight. And we got some wind…

Just to our north, folks in Eastman and Dublin got more than just wind and rain! Either small tornadoes or severe straight line winds did damage in Dodge and Laurens counties.

Photos of the damage to the Press Box at DCHS football field

~ Photos by Kim Turner and submitted to 13WMAZ.com

The tornadoes that took the lives of 8 souls on March 1st were about 30 miles away. Last night, the winds were within 15 miles.

William sung a very appropriate song this morning.

Words and Music by Mosie Lister copyright 1958

In the dark of the midnight have I oft hid my face,

While the storm howl above me, and there's no hiding place.

'Mid the crash of the thunder, Precious Lord, hear my cry,

Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,

Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;

Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,

Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

Many times Satan whispered, "There is no need to try,

For there's no end of sorrow, there's no hope by and by"

But I know Thou art with me, and tomorrow I'll rise

Where the storms never darken the skies.

Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,

Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;

Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,

Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

When the long night has ended and the storms come no more,

Let me stand in Thy presence on the bright peaceful shore;

In that land where the tempest, never comes,

Lord, may I Dwell with Thee when the storm passes by.

Till the storm passes over, till the thunder sounds no more,

Till the clouds roll forever from the sky;

Hold me fast, let me stand in the hollow of Thy hand,

Keep me safe till the storm passes by.

This storm will continue to cause concern for the next several days, forecasted to turn into a Nor'easter which will impact Mid-Alantic and New England coastlines and states.

Keep 'em safe till the storm passes by...

"And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm." Mark 4:39

Friday the 13th

Actual email from my boss:

Bob, I heard from Alex last night that they’re having difficulty doing the reversal test, on the medium and large sizes - - he claims it’s difficult to get the umbrella to reverse because of the double canopy construction. Would you pls have someone video you doing several cycles of the reversal test, to show him how you do it? Send to me first so I can review before sending it overseas.

So I get an umbrella from stock with Ashley running the video camera. And POW! I destroy the first one. I dig in the box of rejects from last year. POW! Two up and two down. OK, let's try another one. Great, I'm pitching a NO HITTER!

The last umbrella is taken from my retains. FINALLY, a good take!

I get back to my desk, review the 15 second mpeg and it dawns on me. It is Friday the 13th!!!

I have never been into the rituals of luck:

• crossing out a black cat that happens in my path only causes fingerprints on the windshield
• not walking under a ladder is a safety issue
• finger crossing is for forming the letter R in sign language
• four leaf clovers - they're just rare, unless you live near a nuclear plant - then you may have 5 or 6 or 27 leaves
• pennies heads down or heads up are going in my pocket - that's 1/100 of a buck
• horseshoes are for horses, not over doors

There is no such thing a karma or luck for the christian. Rather, we receive blessings. And more than we deserve.

Why the voice of Buck Owens stuck in my head?

Gloom, despair and agony on me
Deep, dark depression Excessive misery
If it weren't for bad luck
I'd have no luck at all
Gloom, despair and agony on me

Remember When...

Kuhn’s 5 & 10 and Lay’s Five and Dime were where you really wanted to go on Saturday morning. The hardwood floors would squeak up a storm as you walked the aisles in Kuhn’s. King's Department Store. Fraley's Furniture. Cook's Department Store and the fire that destoryed it. Cedar shavings on court house square. Turning the handle on the parking meters.

Miss Nancy on Romper Room

Boyce Hawkins, Bob Lobertini, George Goldtrap (with his flipping chalk) and Bill Hall were the T.V weathermen

Marcia Trimble’s name was used as a reminder to be home when you were told to be home

Roma Pizza, Dean’s Dairyland and the lunch counters at City Drugs and Stewart’s Pharmacy

“Look at us we’re walking”

Getting ready for school while watching Ralph Emory and hoping Snow Bird would show up and Keith Bilbrey would name your county

The smell of the library and the Elkin's Hardware Store

WBMC, WAKI, WLAC and KDF

Purity Dairies cow said "it must be nice to be wanted".

Avalon Dairy and 8 ounce cartons of milk

Weekday afternoons of: Dialing for Dollar and The Big Show

Huell Howser, Oprah Winfrey and Pat Sajak before they went on to bigger things

Field trips to the Park Theater and Warren County Airport or if you were really good - Cumberland Caverns!!!


Cooper & Martin, HG Hills, Lentz Cee Bee

Warren County Livestock and Agricultural Fair

S&H Green Stamps and Top Value Stamps

McMinnville Central Bulldogs and McMinnville City Rebels

Sonic to Dean's Dairyland and back again, and again, and again, and again, and again...

The sound of drumming finger on desk...

Usually a treadmill test is started in the early morning, checked on occasionally but otherwise forgotten until the end of the day when it really gets cranked up.

But not on the latest request:

30 minutes on
5 minutes off
30 minutes on
5 minutes off
repeat ad nauseum... or until 8 hours is reached.

There has got to be better use of a treadmill than this:

And there IS!!!




OK GO... Here it Goes Again

The dude in the red slacks nearly slipped at 2:04!!! Bwahahahaha!!!

Miracle

Lawrence is an amazing man. I have work along side him on several occasions. On the roof of the sanctuary – in the landscape surrounding the building – in the heat of church attic in the middle of the summer – cutting lumber for him for the new orchestra pit behind the pulpit - under the preacher's house. He was never tiring, or so it seemed. He would work circles around me, even though he is 18 years my senior.

Even more amazing is the fact that Lawrence did all this with a less than visible handicap. He wears prosthetic from just below his right knee.

He had walked into his shop one October afternoon – some seven years ago – to put away the odd tool, to rummage around for a scrap of lumber or perform some other mundane task. As he stood near the small air compressor, decay and oxidation give way to force, and the tank exploded. After painful therapy and rehab, Lawrence was able to get back to the labor he loved – doing for others and serving the Lord with his hands as well as his heart.

I could only imagine working with him before that accident. Or rather, in his dust…

On November 3rd of last year, near tragedy walloped Lawrence again. He was trimming and clearing dead pine trees around his house. He was on a scaffold on a fork lift, some 40 feet in the air, handling a chainsaw. Only problem was - he forgot to place the safety chain around the forks of the machinery.

Being an engineer, I did the math.

• 32 feet second per second


• 40 feet in the air


• 6 square inches of heel

I came up with – trying to stop a one ton car, traveling at 45 miles per hour with the heel of one foot. Since Lawrence tried to protect his right leg, all of the impact was absorbed by his left side.

Damage was intense. A broken left hip, broken femur, shattered knee joint and knee cap, broken tibia and fibula and a general rearrangement of the metatarsals.

A hip replacement and pins to realign the upper leg were the first order of business. External Pins in the lower leg with a splint (not a cast) until the pins were removed. Additional surgeries for the knee and heels were discussed and planned. But they are yet to happen. Early on, the doctors thought he would be bed bound for many months and confined to a wheel chair for years, if not the rest of his life.

Around the middle of January, Lawrence was back at church. On the first Sunday of February, he was back teaching our Sunday School class from a wheel chair. Three weeks later, he was walking with the aid of a walker.

This pass week I witnessed something that many would consider a miracle.

During Passion Week communion, Lawrence walked from the back of the sanctuary to the front and returned to his seat in the back of the auditorium by taking security on the ends of the pews.

Did I mention that “Lawrence is an amazing man” ???
He IS a WALKING testimony!

Lawrence during the Valentine's Banquet 02/09/07

Here comes Peter Cottontail… Brrrrrrr…. Ouch!

As we rode to Sunrise Services this morning, the thermometer in the overhead console glowed 30° F. You come to expect a cool snap around Easter, but this year was very unusual. This Easter falls right in the middle of the five week span which defines the day.

Easter festival should be celebrated throughout the Christian world on the first Sunday after the full moon following the vernal equinox. If the full moon should occur on a Sunday and thereby coincide with the Passover festival, Easter should be commemorated on the Sunday following.

Full moon was this past Monday – after the first day of Spring last month on the 21st. Spring has been kinda strange across the eastern half of the nation. Three of three MLB games scheduled in Cleveland this weekend were cancelled – DUE TO SNOW!

The air conditioner was running just four days ago (temperature was just short of the 90° mark) --- the heat has been on for the last 3 days.

Standing on the front courtyard of church this morning, jackets covered pastels. Sandals were endured for the few moments until Grace was said for the breakfast that waited in the Fellowship Hall. And damage was done to the tender vegetation around the farm.

Crepe myrtle

Pecan

Paulownia

Potatoes in the Garden

Hydrangea and Metro

Watching the Master's this afternoon, Amen Corner (and especially the 13th) is just beautiful with Dogwood and Azalea.

Grand ol' Ladies of the South

The Old South is full of them. Some are better preserved that others. Show cases of "old times there". I can only imagine the tales walls could tell and the history that passed by the Main Street out front for nearly two centuries.

This specimen is in a sad condition. The Corinthian columns are decaying at their bases. The side protocol is caving in under it own weight. The front balcony is infested with honey bees (they were swarming around the broken boards).



We peeked into the windows. There is indications of someone working on the old place. The floor are clean. The inside is clear of any real damage. The stairs (both the front and rear) appeared to be in decent condition, no warping or missing treads. The kitchen is void of any evidence of any meal ever being prepared. It is like the old girl is being prepared for a grand ball some time in the distant furture.

It is going to take a lot of work and money to redress this Southern Lady!

I can't help but wonder... What kind of homes would have been the norm if the War of Northern Aggressions had turn out differently?

Merlinda

When Maggie died last fall, Merlinda took over as Head Hen. When allowed freedom from the chicken pen, the four red hens (Merlinda, Melissa, Mildred, & Margaret) along with Marty and Martha scratched and hunted for bugs all over the yard. And when Marty would call at the discovery of a treasure, Merlinda would be the first in line for the morsel.

Then something happened, we are not sure what. But I am blaming a mean Nanny Goat. Around the middle of January, we noticed Merlinda was hopping on one foot. Her right leg (thigh and drumstick for the culinary) just kinda flopped without purpose. At the same time, she lost her status in the pecking order. She was being abused by the other hens in her weakness. We removed her from the coop and made a small pen for her under the carport.

And a fine pen it was… One inch EVA foam to act as insulation from the cold concrete - fresh straw for bedding (changed regularly) - a heavy gate as a top for security - and a blanket for shielding Merlinda from the winds that circle around the breezeway - fresh water and food & daily treats. She was enjoying the spoiling.

Amateur vets to the rescue – we splinted the leg. For six weeks, we pampered and petted her while she wore her blue painter’s tape cast. She even received ‘spa treatments’. Did you know that chickens are somewhat potty trainable? We didn’t either!!!

Yesterday, Merlinda was moved from the rehab center back to the coop. She protested! But as darkness came with the end of day, she hopped one rail at a time till she made it to the roosting rail at the top. The victory was bittersweet, we felt like our chicken had cut the apron strings and we were empty nesters.

Morning report: Merlinda is either afraid to or is not able to descend the rails to ground level on her own. I guess we will have to install a handicapped ramp.

April Wises

We have received many a ribbing from our Anniversary date. But it was the most convenient time for us the head to the mountains to get married. We told no one except our parents of our plans. Buddy and Sissy had preceded us with a Smokey Mountain wedding by just a few months and acted as our escorts and our Best Man and Matron of Honor.

We left work Thursday afternoon, with our luggage packed the night before to head for Lawrenceville. Friday would find the foursome heading toward Tennessee. Friday afternoon, we arrived in Pigeon Forge to obtain the license and do a little shopping.

Our time was set for 5:00 p.m. We are early and got to see those before us having their photos taken in the various scenes that were set.

A simple and beautiful ceremony. We had our photos taken and re-dress in more comfortable attire. As we are re-entering Georgia, a GASP! "I forgot my purse!" To this day, Sarah doesn't carry a purse!

This morning, we discovered we shared this date with another couple. One of Sarah's classmates and his wife were married 17 years before us.

Joe and Vickie,
Happy Anniversary to you also!!!

Happy Anniversary

What do you get for your wife for your anniversary when she really wants nothing?

"Don't get me roses or cut flowers - they are just going to die"

Although, a tree or new landscape plants would be an option...

"Don't get me jewerly - I have enough already"

Wow, would I get hit for that...

"Don't even think about going out to eat"

HA! Considering, gourmet dining around here is going all out and ordering those large fries instead...

I walked into Chas Mar Friday afternoon to buy worms. Nope, that is NOT what I bought Sarah for our Anniversary!!!
I saw the banner over the door: F-R-M (Flint River Mills) CHICK DAYS. I walked in the door and the sound of little peepers filled the air, along with the smells that I associate with hardware stores - in the present and in my childhood. I flip open the cell phone and call home.

"Listen!!!"

Rainbow colors run around the pen, too young and not yet programmed to flee the reaching of the nubby fingers of toddlers that come in looking for Easter basket fillings.

Purple, Blue, Green, Yellow, Orange, Red

I wanted one of each color. Sarah convinced me that two yellow ones would be least artificial and would be enough.

Out like a Lamb

The weather in south Georgia was be-you-de-full today. Overnight and the start of the morning in the lower 60's and with the clouds cover the sun, we were able to continue cleaning the flower beds around the Koi Pond and on the south east end of the house. After lunch, we ventured into the pine woods to gather a pickup load of pine straw. Nothing looks better than freshly dressed landscaping.

The high temperature (79°) occured around 4:00 this afternoon - and with the steady southern breeze blowing, it was a perfect day to stay in the yard working till dark. Metro was there to "help" - his little paws can dig much at a time, but he sure can get dirty. His bath water could be called McKinley Morganfield. Don't get that one - look up the wiki

Doctor Report

I called yesterday for my phone appointment as scheduled. The doctor was not available. I waited in vain until 5:00 pm for my call back. So I figured I would need to try again this morning.

The red light was glowing on my phone when I arrived at work. I dial the voice mail number.

"You have ONE voice message.
Message ONE,
received Thursday, at 8:34 PM"

I got a GOOD report...


Whew!!! Now, I will need to make appointment with Dr. Salvat. But first... another Liver function blood test.

Sneezy

Ah pheel lize meh noze iz donnah expoed!!!**

I drive a white truck... only right now it isn't white. It is a dusty yellow. For the past 13 days the tree pollen count has been in the very high zone. Pine, oak, various ornamental flowering trees and shrubs are contributing to the sticky golden mess that covers everything. Ahhh, spring time in Georgia.

Let's do that the quiz:

• Do you have red, watery eyes?
  
• Do you sneeze a lot?
  
• Do you have an itchy nose?
  
• Do you have a runny nose with clear drainage?
  
• Do you have a stuffy nose?
  

Where's the all the above box?

The pollen count today was 5768 according to a report on Georgia Public Radio. A count of 120 per cubic meter would be considered in the High Zone.

Red Oak

Pecan

Pine

Willow Oak

**In case you need a translation: I feel like my nose is going to explode!!!

Cherry Blossoms

The International Cherry Blossom Festival ended last weekend. For ten days, the city of Macon opens up with gracious southern hospitality. Some 300,000 Yoshino cherry trees across the city were in full bloom. Yesterday, we got to see the show without the crowds and too many vendors hawking their wares.









As we walked down the corridor. we were in awe. It seemed that the tree limbs were spun with pink and white cotton candy.




I believe this little guy was happy to see the mobs gone from his habitat.

Why was tempted to ask him about saving 15% on my car insurance???

Stressing

• 35 minutes early for my appointment
• 24 minutes late to be called back
• Hair shaved from my chest to stick the EKG patches
• IV installed
• First round of Thallium injected
• 15 minutes of the glowing stuff coursing through my veins
• 16 1/2 minutes of lying on the most uncomfortable table in the world with a rotating camera circling around my chest
• 12 lead EKG
• 140/100 BP - ouch
• 15 minutes of walking on the treadmill - I actually did good with this - but I was so ready for it to be over
• Second round of Thallium injected
• 15 minutes of the glowing stuff coursing through my veins
• 16 1/2 more minutes of pictures of inside my ribs

The worst part of the entire ordeal... being Decaffeinated for +24 hours. I am such a coffee junkie! And my head was pounding the whole time!

I have a phone appointment with Dr. Jones tomorrow at 2:30 for my results.

Blooming along the Trail

They crawl along the grond and will cover over small scrub oaks. The faint but fragrant aroma is intoxicating. The Cherokee Roses lined our path as we drove to Macon today.

The Legend of the Cherokee Rose

No better symbol exists of the pain and suffering of the Trail Where They Cried than the Cherokee Rose. The mothers of the Cherokee grieved so much that the chiefs prayed for a sign to lift the mother's spirits and give them strength to care for their children. From that day forward, a beautiful new flower, a rose, grew wherever a mother's tear fell to the ground. The rose is white, for the mother's tears. It has a gold center, for the gold taken from the Cherokee lands, and seven leaves on each stem that represent the seven Cherokee clans that made the journey. To this day, the Cherokee Rose prospers along the route of the "Trail of Tears". The Cherokee Rose is now the official flower of the State of Georgia.

Rosa laevigata on the Golden Isles Parkway

Examation

All during high school and college, I never really studied for a test at the last minute... None of that burning the midnight oil stuff. If I hadn't gotten it during the actual lecture and assignments, then all that fretting at the last hours would make little difference.

I have to take a test tomorrow. I need not fail this one. I don't want it to be my final... Mid-term would be nice.

My Cardiac Stress Test is scheduled for 12:30 tomorrow.

• No caffeine since lunch today.
• Light breakfast and nothing after 8:30 AM
• Comfortable clothing and shoes

That's all the cramming necessary to prepare for tomorrow's test. Hopefully, I can ace it!

Chief Noc-A-Homa

And when we started talking I could not believe my ears,
You said you were a Braves fan even through the rotten years.

My Kind of Girl, Collin Raye


92 years old she is…


Back in the days when the only television reception available was an antenna (the higher you can get it the better the reception – and that wasn’t the greatest), Mama Mildred would watch the Braves games on WTBS, but just barely. The picture was fuzzy at best. If it happened to be during a peak in the sunspot cycle, you could forget it. Channel 17 from Atlanta was pumping some megawatts in the days before cable, and way before satellite dishes. Turn the rotary just right. And when the snow on the screen was so bad that it was not viewable, she would listen to the games on the radio. Mama got hooked on the Braves.

When she finally gave in and got hooked up on the Dish Network, she was like a kid set loose in a candy store. But there was the problem of when and what station would be carrying the broadcast of the next game. Sissy did the first list about 8 years ago. I have done the years since. Date, opponent, stadium, start time and channel number are printed out for each month of the season. Seven crisp sheets of paper are now placed on a clip board beside the lift chair.

With good coaching, pitching, fielding and hitting – I will get to print out an eight sheet come October.

Hummer Migration facts

From the migration page on hummingbirds.net:

Most Ruby-throated Hummingbirds winter between southern Mexico and northern Panama. Since hummingbirds lead solitary lives and neither live nor migrate in flocks, an individual bird may spend the winter anywhere in this range where the habitat is favorable, but probably returns to the same location each winter. Ruby-throats begin moving north as early as January, and by the end of February they are at the northern coast of Yucatan, gorging on insects and spiders to add a thick layer of fat in preparation for flying to the U.S. Some will skirt the Gulf of Mexico and follow the Texas coast north, while most apparently cross the Gulf, typically leaving at dusk for a nonstop flight of up to 500 miles, which takes 18-22 hours depending on the weather. Although hummingbirds may fly over water in company of mixed flocks of other bird species, they do not "hitchhike" on other birds. Some hummingbirds land on offshore oil rigs or fishing boats to rest. Individual birds may make landfall anywhere between southern Texas and central Florida. Before departing, each bird will have nearly doubled its weight, from about 3.25 grams to over 6 grams; when it reaches the U.S. Gulf coast, it may weigh only 2.5 grams. It's also possible that a few Ruby-throats island-hop across the Caribbean and enter the U.S. through the Florida Keys.

Males depart Yucatan first, followed about 10 days later by the first females. But the migration is spread over a three-month period, which prevents a catastrophic weather event from wiping out the entire species. This means that a few birds will arrive at any location very early (the dots on the migration map), but the bulk of the population will follow later, so you may not see your first hummingbird for several more weeks. Each individual has its own internal map and schedule, and "your" birds may arrive early, late, or anywhere within a two-month span.Once in North America, migration proceeds at an average rate of about 20 miles per day, generally following the earliest blooming of flowers hummingbirds prefer. The northward migration is complete by late May. Banding studies show that each bird tends to return every year to the same place it hatched, even visiting the same feeders.

Well, in that case: Welcome Home, little fellows!

They'rrrrrrrre back......

We had just finished supper. Dishes were loaded into the dishwasher. I was downloading the photos that Sarah had taken today. Sarah walked to the front door and GASPED!!!

"HUMMINGBIRD!!!"

We grabbed the camera and waited... Last summer we finally got hummingbirds to come to our front deck. And they came in groves!

We had been tracking the spring migration on hummingbird.net, so we had set up one of our feeders on the front deck and one in the Paulownina tree on the path to the goat pen. Fresh sugar solution (4:1) was prepared - very similar to Georgia Sweet Tea!

The sun was low in the west and light was fading quickly this evening. But we were able to get several decent shots.



We saw at least 3 of the teeny emerald and ruby buzz bombers - all males today. We can't wait for the chance to take more photos of the hummingbirds in full sunlight!

You do have Smell-o-Internet, dontcha?

Oh, you don't... Too bad! The wisteria in the front/back yard is in full bloom and full aroma.

The wisteria is only out done in South Georgia by the "cow eating plant" (a.k.a.: Kudzu) in covering the country side. Down the street from work, the trees are wrapped in light purple blooms. Let go wild, wisteria will take over ground, fences and trees alike. But given the right application of the pruning shears, the wisteria will make a wonderful accent to the landscape of most any yard.

One of many bumble bees taking in the fragrance and nectar!

The "First" Day of Spring

The calendar has caught up with the season, at least in south Georgia. Watching the early morning news on CNN this AM, the weather guy, Bob Van Dillen was telling of the freezing temperatures and snow still falling in the north lands. (Pop-ups galore if you click the links to CNN).

I got a wonderful reminder that spring is in "full bloom" around here. NOT a flowering tree, which there are plenty... This one was heard. NOPE, not a chorus of peppers being all froggy in the swamp spring head. Those little fellows have been busy "Chrrrrrrippp-ing" for a couple of weeks already. This sound came from the most vocal of all night time birds.

As I walked in the pre-dawn darkness to the truck this morning, I stopped still in my tracks. The repeating of his night song was echoing in the crisp air.

Whip - poor - will, whip - poor- will, whip - poor - will...

lather - rinse - repeat...

I remember the pre-air conditioned summers of my youth, with my head practically laying on the sill the screened window. Hoping to catch a fleeing breeze on my face, as I sweated myself to sleep. And the voice of Poor Will, resounding in the hardwoods.

Whip - poor - will, whip - poor- will, whip - poor - will...

Whippoorwills are an elusive bird. Only once have I seen the muddy feathers of Mr. Will. On the dirt road leading away from the house - the reflective orange of the eye, give away his location before I could even begin to make out the outline against the red clay. And flight was taken before a good look was obtained.

So here is Spring. I placed my backpack in the truck, cupped my ears and squatted down to listen...

Image of a "poised" Whippoorwill by Mike Danzenbaker

How not to complain!

The old farmer was most proud of two things: his prize bull and his amazing bird dog.

Driving home from the Cattle competition at the county fair with a blue ribbon on the dash, the bird dog on the seat beside him and the bull in the bed of the pickup, the farmer was smiling from ear to ear.

As the trio was approaching home, a tire blew on the truck and into the ditch they went. All three were thrown from the vehicle – the bull to the back, the dog to the side and the farmer toward the front.

What a mess, the farmer did inventory of his injuries. He wasn’t able to move.

The bull was bellowing in pain, the dog was yelping from his injuries. Surely, neither one could survive such bodily damage.

Just then a State Trooper, happens on the accident scene. Seeing the condition of the bull, he pulls out his service revolver and –

BANG!!!

The Trooper turns his attention to the bird dog –

BANG!!!

Then moving to the front of the truck, the Trooper asked the farmer, “How do you feel?”

The farmer immediately jumped to his feet, “Never better in my life!!!”

More Dogwood Lore

The rural people of Cumberland Plateau are keen observers of nature and weather. Over the years they gathered much knowledge concerning seasonal weather lore. Counting the fogs on August Morns to predict the number of snows in the winter, the thickness of the hulls on the hickory nuts to tell the harshness of winter, even whether or not to set out on that fishing trip...

When the wind is blowing in the North
No fisherman should set forth,
When the wind is blowing in the East,
'Tis not fit for man nor beast,
When the wind is blowing in the South
It brings the food over the fish's mouth,
When the wind is blowing in the West,
That is when the fishing's best!

Another one of these legends concerns a natural phenomenon that occurs each spring when winter returns. In April, the white the blossoms of the dogwood tree cover the hardwood understory. But during this blooming, there is always a cold spell, which brings a dramatic drop in temperature and an light frost and even the occasional snow flurry. My grandparents and parents (and lots of other Tennessee folks) called this Dogwood Winter, and I’ve observed it too, occurring almost every year without fail during my childhood and early adulthood.

Instead of April, dogwoods bloom in mid-March in south Georgia. Earlier in the week, we saw several days with temperatures in the mid to upper 80's. A strong North-West wind yesterday afternoon and clear skies overnight delivered lows in the lower 40's.

Dogwood Winter in even defined on Dave's Garden website (the first entry when you Google). Now, where have I heard of that URL before???

Dogwood...

This has been the sign of spring that I have been waiting for!

Dogwood trees in south Georgia are nothing like the ones in Middle Tennessee. Well, actually they are probably exactly like the ones in Middle Tennessee. Most likely, they were shipped from the many nurseries in and around McMinnville.

And that's the thing. There are very few native dogwood trees on the plains that were once flooded by the Atlantic Ocean - unlike the hills of the Cumberland Plateau, where the under story of woods are covered with brilliant white blooms in the early spring. My childhood was filled with these four petal flowers. Yeah, I know the the center cluster are the flowers and the "petals" are actually bracts (modified leaves).

But try telling that horticultural fact to a six year old boy, who just filled a Coke bottle with water and placed into it three limbs of the showiest dogwood blooms he could find. Then carrying them into the green shingled house, grinning from ear to ear, "These flowers are for you, Mama."

The Old, Old, Legend Of The Dogwood

Two thousand years ago, few trees in the Middle East were big enough to construct anything. However, one tree was valued above the others for its thick trunk and fine, strong wood. When the Romans came to rule over Jerusalem, their government used this same timber to build the crosses for executing criminals. A group of workers were assigned to gather wood for the crosses. Before long, every Roman official knew the best wood came from these gatherers of execution wood, so those workers became popular.

One day, the wood gatherers received a special request. An officer of the Roman court came and said, "The King of Jews is to be put to death. Deliver an extra-large cross made from your finest wood." So, a fresh tree was cut from the forest of the trees with thick trunks and fine, strong wood. An extra-tall (and extra-heavy) cross was quickly made and delivered. Three days after the death of Jesus of Nazereth, the chief wood gatherer got alarming news. "All of our finest trees are withering!" the messenger whispered. The wood gatherer hurried to the forest and saw that it was true.

Several years later, the chief wood gatherer heard that, every spring, many people visited the old forest that had once made his job so easy. Despite his advancing years, he set out to discover why. He saw the remains of forest, now like a salty bottoms, with only a few trees still standing tall, baked, lifeless and rotting.

But what was this? As he drew closer, his feeble eyes could make out the people walking among thousands of beautiful, flowering bushes. Seeing one of his own workers there, the old man said, "No one could ever make a cross out of this twisted wood. Our finest tree has gone to the dogs!" He noticed the beautiful white flowers, each blossom looking as if it had been burned from the touch of a miniature cross.

So...an old and beautiful legend has it that, at the time of the crucifixion, the dogwood was comparable in size to the oak tree and other monarchs of the forest. Because of its firmness and strength it was selected as the timber for the cross, but to be put to such a cruel use greatly distressed the tree. Sensing this, the crucified Jesus in his gentle pity for the sorrow and suffering of all said to it: "Because of your sorrow and pity for My sufferings, never again will the dogwood tree grow large enough to be used as a gibbet. Henceforth it will be slender, bent and twisted and its blossoms will be in the form of a cross -- two long and two short petals. In the center of the outer edge of each petal there will be nail prints -- brown with rust and stained with red -- and in the center of the flower will be a crown of thorns, and all who see this will remember.

~author unknown~

DLST

The clock on my office did not fall back last October. I just did the math and adjusted whenever I looked at it.

And do I really need a clock on the wall of my office or a watch on my arm?

The 1969 Chicago song "Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?" couldn't be written today. Everyone knows what time it is, even the people who aren't wearing watches.

These days, the correct time is everywhere: in the corner of the computer screen, on the satellite television when channels are switched, car radios, microwaves, ovens even coffee makers... And, perhaps most significantly, on cell phones, BlackBerries, MP3 players and GPSr's. Most people these days carry a highly accurate and durable time piece, but it isn't a watch.

I have several watches in a drawer slowly draining the batteries to nil. A couple that cost several hundred dollars to one that was a single buck on a flea market table more than a decade ago. Today, it would cost more to replace the battery in that one.

As I stand at the work table in the lab and glance at the clock on the wall, I no longer have to calculate to know whether it is fifteen minutes till time for lunch (or an hour and fifteen minutes). At least until the first weekend of November.

Trading Up!

And speaking of Roadside Produce Stands....

I was reading some emails from two years ago from a member of the Yahoo Group Yorkie South.

At the roadside stand, Mrs. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy,delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. Sure look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

"Not zackley . but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."

"Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering.

Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... all very professional looking.

They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about.! They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size ... they came to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

Roadside Fruit Stand

With late summer, given enough rain, wild plums are abundant in south Georgia. While not the best for eating, their flavor is just right for jelly making. So come August, I will be carrying a bucket in the back of the truck - waiting for the tale-tell change from green to crimson along the side of the road.

Whatcha going to do this weekend?

215 plus miles of folks set up to sell any and everything!!!



A portion of the route is less than a mile from our front door!!!

More Signs of Spring

We started down the driveway.

Sarah: "Where's the camera?"

Me: "On the table."

Sarah:

Me: "Let's walk to back house and get it. It's just a few extra steps and we can use the exercise. "

We walk the gentle rise back to the back door. Then back to the trek around the paths through the fields and woods.

Blackberries (not electronic communication devices) and Pear Trees were in bloom.

And the Oxalis on the southern side of the house is showing out!

Another Sign of Spring

Our Paulownia trees are blooming! After the severe wind and heavy rains last night, we were welcomed this morning by light purple flowers.

The Lion Roared, LOUDLY

Sixteen people in Alabama and Georgia are reported dead after tornadoes hit the southern region. Severe storms and strong winds with rotation were within 30 miles of us last night.

*Photo: The Lion King, Disney Corp.

Purple Martins

Yay, the Purple Martins are back!
The Purple Martins are back!
The Purple Martins are back!

Thunderstorms and Lions and Lambs

Mae West said it best - "Hold onto your hats, it's going to be quite a bumpy ride!"

So starts the weather in South Georgia on the first day of March:
100% Chance of Thunderstorms
High temperature 73°
Wind gust to 25 mph

If March comes in like a lion, it goes out like a lamb. And, if. March comes in like a lamb, it goes out like a lion.

The whole lion and lamb thing always had me confused as a child. I suspected it had something to do with the “lions and lambs shall lie down together” business, but that never seemed to happen on Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom which was my reality test, way back then.

Yeah, yeah, I know the actual verse is --- “The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.” from Isaiah 11:6.

Well, I didn’t actually *know* the quote, as in had the knowledge stored in my head, but I did know how to search for it, and that’s all that counts, right? Life is just one big open book test.

As drove to work this morning, part of my gray matter rung up something from, again, way back!

John Belushi cleared it all up on Saturday Night Live in a bit he did with Chevy Chase about the way March’s entrance and exit is depicted around the world. I didn't have the skit stored in my head, but I did know how to search for it.

Chevy Chase:
Last week we made the comment that March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb. Now here to reply is our chief meteorologist, John Belushi, with a seasonal report.

John Belushi:
Thank you Chevy. Well, another winter is almost over and March true to form has come in like a lion, and hopefully will go out like a lamb. At least that's how March works here in the United States.
But did you know that March behaves differently in other countries? In Norway, for example, March comes in like a polar bear and goes out like a walrus. Or, take the case of Honduras where March comes in like a lamb and goes out like a salt marsh harvest mouse.
Let's compare this to the Maldive Islands where March comes in like a wildebeest and goes out like an ant. A tiny, little ant about this big.

[holds thumb and index fingers a small distance apart]

Unlike the Malay Peninsula where March comes in like a worm-eating fernbird and goes out like a worm-eating fernbird. In fact, their whole year is like a worm-eating fernbird.
Or consider the Republic of South Africa where March comes in like a lion and goes out like a different lion. Like one has a mane, and one doesn't have a mane. Or in certain parts of South America where March swims in like a sea otter, and then it slithers out like a giant anaconda.
There you can buy land real cheap, you know. And there's a country where March hops in like a kangaroo, and stays a kangaroo for a while, and then it becomes a slightly smaller kangaroo. Then, then, then for a couple of days it's sort of a cross between a, a frilled lizard and a common house cat.

[Chevy Chase tries to interrupt him]

Wait wait wait wait. Then it changes back into a smaller kangaroo, and then it goes out like a, like a wild dingo. Now, now, and it's not Australia! Now, now, you'd think it would be Australia, but it's not!


[Chevy Chase tries to interrupt him]

Now look, pal! I know a country where March comes in like an emu and goes out like a tapir. And they don't even know what it means! All right? Now listen, there are nine different countries, where March comes in like a frog, and goes out like a golden retriever. But that- that's not the weird part! No, no, the weird part is, is the frog. The frog- The weird part is-

[John has seizure and falls off chair]