WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY

Patience is a virtue: The Cardinal Diaries.

Posted on June 12, 2023 by Linda Schaub

In the final paragraph of my May 22nd post “Learning on my Terms” I teased about discovering a Cardinal’s nest in my barberry bush. For several years I have had a pair of Cardinals bopping around the backyard. Here are some photos of the female taken one Winter.

Since they were visiting more often lately, I offered a few peanuts on the sidewalk, then put a handful of sunflower seeds down. But that seed-dispensing generosity came to a rapid halt after I returned from walking to find a couple of mice contentedly nibbling on those seeds way too close to the door – a mouse in the house would freak me out!

This post is somewhat long; first will be a backstory, followed by the Diaries and pics.

I have had a lifelong affinity for domestic and wild birds.

Growing up and as an adult, parakeets and canaries were much-loved members of my family. And who doesn’t enjoy the cheery warble of a songbird, no matter the season? As much disdain as I have for Robins building their mud-packed nests in the crook of my porch coach light, then retaliating with huge splats on the front door and siding when I remove said nest, I love to hear a Robin’s cheery birdsong.

I fed and watered the backyard birds in all seasons for many years, usually just filling the feeders or birdbaths before dashing off to catch the bus for my job in Downtown Detroit. When I suddenly became “Yard Master” er … “Yard Mistress” in 1984 after my father’s abrupt departure, suddenly I was logging many outside hours, especially in Summer.

In 1985 I ripped out about 90% of my father’s landscaping efforts, most which had become grossly overgrown and created a more natural habitat, including a large butterfly garden. During this yard revitalization period, I had a backyard bird following of feathered friends who perched on the fence each morning while awaiting fresh seeds at the bird feeder and clean water as I hand-watered the garden before leaving for work.

During this time period, I befriended a female Cardinal and knew it wasn’t just my imagination that she would sit on the fence and sweetly tweet at me while I worked. I always whistled back at the songbirds and tried to keep up with them whistle for whistle, note for note.

Well Mrs. Cardinal filled my heart with joy and I treated her extra-special, i.e. I would place some peanuts on a partially hidden flat rock. It only took me a few times to point to her, then to the peanuts on the rock for her to see that treat. Her mate always waited in the tree or perched on the fence allowing her to partake in the peanuts first.

My mom, also a feathered-friend devotee, was just as delighted as me to see what we assumed to be a mated pair and she often watched them from her back bedroom window. In an issue of the magazine Birds and Blooms we learned that safflower seeds were a special treat enjoyed by Cardinals and, believe it or not, are one of very few foods squirrels do not like. So I bought a five-pound bag of safflower seeds to see if our Cardinals would like them.

And so began an evening ritual that lasted from Spring through Fall for several years … BUT, with Mrs. Cardinal only.

When I returned home from work every night, as I walked up the sidewalk leading to the door, Mrs. Cardinal acknowledged my arrival by flying down to the patio floor. I would step inside the house, put down my tote bag and emerge with a small Dixie cup of safflower seeds which I’d pour on the cement, then go into the house for dinner. You could set a clock to my arrival time and, obviously Mrs. Cardinal did not wear a watch, but there she was. Suffice it to say, we never disappointed one another. I stuck to that timetable on weekends and holidays if possible.

Sadly, that delightful routine was broken, likely after West Nile virus affected our area. My mom and I spent a long weekend in Toronto visiting my grandmother and when we returned home, I immediately went into the backyard to feed my feathered and furry friends and fill the four birdbaths. I was horrified to find about a dozen Blue Jay bodies in my backyard. As West Nile virus was ravaging Southeast Michigan, the Department of Natural Resources (“DNR”) had directed residents to notify them of any dead birds, even one bird, unless the bird evidently met its fate, having been mauled by a predator. The DNR picked up the bird bodies the following day and contacted us to say that all the Jays had West Nile virus and we should immediately discontinue watering and feeding the birds until the following year ONLY if the virus had abated. Sadly, I washed out the birdbaths and stored them in the garage. I never saw Mr. and Mrs. Cardinal again and assumed they also perished from the West Nile virus, thankfully not in my yard, where I would see them.

But, surely, not ALL my Cardinals’ extended family perished – they could have descendants, right?

Thank you for reading the backstory and now I give you The Cardinal Diaries.

The Cardinal Diaries 2023.

Wednesday, May 10th – I returned home from walking and as I came up the walk, a female Cardinal zoomed into the barberry bushes. Since I wasn’t near, I hadn’t spooked her, so I wondered if there was a nest. Later that day, I went outside and a male Cardinal flitted by. Sure enough, a rather flimsy nest, with a few leaves making up the bottom portion, was resting inside the prickly barberry bush.

I wondered aloud if they were descendants of my original Cardinal pair and could I recreate the magic in 2023?

Friday, May 12th – I took a vacation day as I wanted to visit the Ford Estate Lilac garden and the Environmental Interpretive Center. Before I left, I checked on Mama-to-be, Mrs. Cardinal who was sitting on the nest. I spoke softly to her, though she looked at me intently – I hoped she wasn’t scared.

That evening when I got online, I checked the incubation period for Cardinal eggs and learned it was 11-13 days. I also learned incubation does not begin until all the eggs are laid.

Saturday, May 13th – I thought of the realtor tagline “location, location, location” as Mama and Papa Cardinal likely thought this was a great spot to build a nest and nurture their hatchlings until fledging. It was chilly and Mama could not have been comfortable, nor warm. Here she was giving me “the tail” … guess she showed me.

Sunday, May 14th – It was Mother’s Day and I momentarily mused about the “Legend of the Cardinal” wherein a deceased loved one comes to visit you in the form of a beautiful red (male) Cardinal. Well, Mama Cardinal, who was looking a bit frowsy from embedding herself deep into that nest was the next best thing to perpetuating that myth, as Papa was nowhere to be found.

Monday, May 15th – We began an uncharacteristic cold snap, the coldest May in 115 years. A few evenings there were frost advisories. My “morning gawk” at Mama Cardinal found her hunkered deep down …

… in that flimsy nest protecting those eggs. I gave her words of encouragement before heading off on my walk.

Wednesday, May 17th – I began to suspect that the in-shell peanuts left on the patio, intended for the Cardinals …

… likely were ending up in the tummy of this nursing Mama Squirrel. Who would deny this little Mama a few peanuts? So I compromised and put out extra peanuts on the patio and out front.

Thursday, May 18th – After studying the habits of the Cardinals and noting Mama rarely left the nest, I ordered some safflower seeds, mealworms and two small hanging feeders to place in nearby bushes. They were delivered the next day, so I stopped by and informed Mama she had a new food source.

Saturday, March 20th – Because I wanted to take photos of the happenings at the nest and feeders, I waited until the weekend to fill the feeders.

These feeders had powder-coated perches, so a “fly-by” to eat on the run was not necessary – the Cardinals could perch and fill up on treats. I hung them strategically inside the barberry bushes and a Mock Orange which is looking a bit bare.

I returned from my walk anxious to see if the food was gone and found ants glommed onto the mealworms. I grumbled bigtime and dumped them in the street, rinsed out the dish at the outside tap and pondered my next move.

Sunday, May 21st – I Googled “how to serve mealworms and avoid ants?” Well I was supposed to rehydrate the mealworms before serving them. Really? Admittedly I didn’t read the package info and thought mealworms came “ready-to-eat” … who knew? I filled a disposable cup with mealworms and sloshed warm water over them. Ugh – it looked like some instant noodle dish. The mealworms were buoyant little fellas. I stirred and swirled them around until they were moist and juicy, then spooned them into the feeder, topped off the safflower seeds and left on my walk.

I returned to find ants crawling on the mealworms, so I dumped them again and was done with mealworms. I got a small ceramic custard dish and filled it with water and placed it in that feeder.

I decided Mama Cardinal was overdue hatching those babies. By my calculations, those beaks should be upturned, waiting for grubs to be dropped into their mouths. I hopped onto Google where I learned that Mama Cardinals often sit on the hatchlings when they are newly hatched and most vulnerable. So was she sitting on the babies to keep them warm? What a revelation!

Monday, May 22nd – The HVAC tech was here doing a wellness check on the A/C. In shepherding the tech to the backyard, I decided to show her Mama Cardinal sitting on the nest. Alana peeked in, then whipped out her phone, scrolled through some pics and showed me HER Mama Cardinal which was leucistic (all white) with her mate hanging out by Alana’s sunflower seed feeder. Nothing like trading Cardinal stories like two doting, if not dotty, aunts. 🙂

Tuesday, May 23rd – Our cold spell lingered with near freezing temps. If those chicks had hatched, I hoped Mama wouldn’t smother them trying to keep them warm.

Wednesday, May 24th – Patience was a virtue: I saw Mama Cardinal zoom out of the nest, so I zoomed into the house for the camera. She saw me near the nest and returned pronto. For all my efforts, I only got a few halfway decent photos of Mama feeding her babies. She was so embedded in the barberry bush that zooming in too much made it blurry. I saw just how big those babies were, so I was convinced they had hatched longer ago than originally thought.

Memorial Day weekend from May 27th through 29th – The Saturday of the long holiday was “Female Bird Day” so I was busy checking out Mama Cardinal while I spent two days doing yardwork, I squeezed in some “me time” too, on tiptoes, to scope out the nest. I’m sure I could have been in the house earlier both days rather than beating a path over to the barberry bush. Mama and Papa were hovering about. Mama’s tail was bobbing as she fed bug bits to her little ones. Every so often Papa did the same, gaining entry into the barberry bush, then dropping down to a branch near the nest. I got one photo of him, albeit far away.

Memorial Day I didn’t work outside, but planted myself nearby to take some pics. It was difficult to tell how many chicks were in the nest.

Mama seemed to be the best hunter and gatherer of the two. She’s looking a bit frowsy here, having lost some of her feathers either scooting in and out of the prickly barberry bush, or slinking down in that nest, but on each expedition she returned with bugs; one was still wiggling. This picture below on the patio wrought iron railing was my favorite of the bunch.

The next day, I went for my morning gawk and walk and discovered the entire clan had flown the coop and not a moment too soon – the nest was literally in tatters. I’ve only gotten one photo of Mama since then …

… though they both watch me laying down peanuts and drop by for safflower seeds. I’ve not seen any of the youngsters. I’ve also got Chickadees interested in those safflower seeds, though I’ve yet to get a photo of one.

I’m disappointed I didn’t get better shots, but it was a fun learning experience. If the pair was undaunted by this wannabe paparazzo and return to nest again, hopefully I have better luck next time.

Posted in nature | Tagged birds, nature, Northern Cardinal | 67 Comments

Gone Fishin’. #Wordless Wednesday #Outsmarting the fish.

Posted on June 7, 2023 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, birds, nature, walk, walking | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, Great Blue Heron, nature, walk, walking | 35 Comments

Some days are diamond … some days are stone.

Posted on June 5, 2023 by Linda Schaub

It’s the first Monday of a new month, so today’s calendar page is the header image. I agree with John Burroughs – I do the same thing every time I set out on a walk in a park setting. The locale for June’s calendar page is Mount St. Helens, an active volcano in Washington State.

Saturday, April 15th was my first 2023 visit to Lake Erie Metropark. As I drove through the park to get to the area where they scan my Metropark pass, the marquis advertised the “Birds in Your Binoculars” interpretive walk at 10:00 a.m. I remembered seeing that event as I follow the Metroparks on social media. After parking by the Marshlands Museum …

… I headed over to say “hey” and wish “Happy New Year” to Luc, the park’s resident Bald Eagle.

Luc has lived in this wooden aviary since 2009, after sustaining injuries the prior year which left him blind in one eye and a damaged wing rendering him unable to fly. After recuperating from those injuries, Luc was deemed unfit for release in the wild, so this enclosure which measures 20 feet long, 20 feet wide and 16 feet high is his permanent home. Luc is almost 20 years old with a life expectancy of about 30 years.

Luc is not always keen on small talk, although sometimes he’ll give me a sign of life with a chirp or two. I was pleased to find his breakfast had not been served – admittedly it is not pleasant to approach the cage and see a dead white rabbit or a rat slung across the tree stump which serves as his breakfast table. This morning was not one for chatting as Luc kept his back toward me.

Since I could not coax any conversation from my feathered friend, I stepped away from Luc to pause at the boathouse and wooden overlook to see the progress at the nearby lagoon and was disappointed to discover that since my last visit in late Summer 2022, the small dredging operation nearby had morphed and now encompassed the entire lagoon. It was a mess and not a critter was in sight, but who could blame them? The water level was low, an airboat was parked near a platform with equipment and there were tubes, hoses, plus plywood placed over some areas where water seeped up and over the walkways. I understood from conversations with park personnel back in the Fall, that once the dredging was complete, the water level would rise and aquatic plants would flourish, eventually providing a better habitat for turtles, frogs, fish and waterfowl. From the looks of this operation, however, the end result would take a while.

I told Luc “see ya” then headed up the hill, just as a group of folks led by interpretive guide Paul Cypher, streamed out of the Marshland Museum to begin their bird walk and talk. The tree they are standing near was just one of many that were damaged, likely during our February 22nd ice storm.

From my perch at the top of the hill I watched and waited until the group paused at Luc’s enclosure, then watched as Paul pointed to the lagoon, (of course still devoid of any waterfowl to see in their binoculars … or otherwise).

But, there was a missed opportunity for those birders because they likely didn’t see the Robin on the pathway, a feathered being that might have enjoyed being included in “show-n-tell” but I saw him/her and, if you squint a little, you can see that Robin too.

As I passed the Museum, I stopped to take a photo of the list of migrating birds that passed through the boat launch area at Lake Erie Metropark in Autumn 2022, dutifully counted by volunteers, so yes, there are raptors aplenty in the Fall migration months and maybe a better time to conduct a bird hike.

So, what birds would they see and, what about me? Could I continue my wonderful birding streak I had in 2022 with all the new and unusual birds that helped fulfill my 2023 Birdie Bucket List?

I decided to venture along Trapper’s Run.

Although we had a rainy Spring, it had not rained in ten days, so I decided to venture along Trapper’s Run, a one-mile trail that I only tried out for the first time last year. The reeds were still drab and lifeless looking …

… as were the trees and bushes along the trail.

But at the Riley Creek Overlook …

… I was able to see a few Egrets …

… Mute Swans …

… and a Tree Swallow that perched on a vertical hunk of dead wood like a king and decided I passed muster and didn’t have to leave its kingdom.

Speaking of “dead” I whirled around when I heard the unmistakable shrieking of a Great Blue Heron, ready to get a shot as it landed in Riley Creek, but instead I noticed the eyeball of this ol’ dead fish inches from the wooden walkway where I stood.

Ugh! Well, it sure wasn’t going to rise out of the water and “get me” but nevertheless it took me aback and I missed the Heron shot. Oh well, there will be others.

Since the Trapper’s Run Nature Trail was not muddy, I took my chances that the Cherry Island Trail would be mud-and-puddle free but my luck ran out there, so I double-backed and cut clear across this 1,607-acre park, enjoying the coolish morning, perfect for walking.

I don’t know what paths the birding group took as I never saw them again, but perhaps they should have followed me, as I not only saw the above-mentioned feathered friends, sans binoculars, but I also encountered this Robin singing its heart out.

It eventually stopped and took a much-needed breath.

There were lots of Red-winged Blackbirds.

Over by the pool and concession area, there was earth-moving machinery, which hopefully will not affect enjoying the park this Summer as the critters will likely scatter to the wind to avoid the noise and commotion.

I saw a few trailers from the Saginaw Bay Walleye Club and men setting up near the concession area. I learned it was in conjunction with a walleye fishing tournament. Hmm, I must have missed that event on the marquis as I was driving in.

Lake Erie Metropark was definitely still wearing its drab colors …

… and not ready for prime time yet with picnic tables either surrounded by orange construction netting or still stacked like dominoes awaiting warmer weather.

Alas, there were no new bird encounters for me and, although the photographic aspect of this trek was marred by the dredging operation, this is still one of my favorite venues and I vowed to return at least once a month. My next visit on May 14, 2023 as well as my last visit of 2022 will be in upcoming posts. I am far behind in posting about some of my longer walks, as holidays and a few 5K events usurped those walks.

Posted in birds, nature, walk, walking | Tagged birds, nature, walk, walking | 56 Comments

When peanuts are the ONLY motivator. #Wordless Wednesday #Your wagon is draggin’ and it’s a short week!

Posted on May 31, 2023 by Linda Schaub

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, Uncategorized | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, Squirrels | 49 Comments

Memorial Day 2023.

Posted on May 29, 2023 by Linda Schaub

Sometimes you have to write from the heart …

**Bleeding Heart blooms at the Volunteer Garden at Memorial Park.**

Admittedly, just like so many other “worker bees” I am enjoying this three-day respite from the regular routine, but it is always good to take a few moments to reflect on the real reason why we have this respite a/k/a the Memorial Day holiday.

So I decided to write about Sergeant Craig Frank, a young military man who hailed from Lincoln Park, a war hero who lost his life in 2004. Craig Frank was the only soldier from the City of Lincoln Park killed in Iraq.

**Sgt. Craig Frank’s image from The National Gold Star Family Registry**

I’ve written about Sergeant Frank in the past, but before I knew most of you. Last year I read in the local newspaper (The News Herald) that on October 15, 2022, a portion of M-85, a main highway in this City, would be renamed “Sergeant Craig S. Frank Memorial Highway” after Michigan Governor Gretchen Whitmer signed such legislation (House Bill 5712 – 2022).

The highway street sign was paid for by “Running to Honor” which is a non-profit group dedicated to keeping the memory of fallen soldiers and veterans alive. Their 5K runs/walks raise funds for various veteran-related causes. They have an annual 5K that takes place at Heritage Park.

Here is a photo of Craig Frank in military gear and the street sign which appeared in The News Herald.

A little background.

Our City’s Memorial Park has an old cannon, a pavilion with park benches donated on behalf of various pillars of the community and a huge cement monument lists the City’s war heroes from World War I, World War II, the Korean War and the Vietnam War.

Most of the names, like from the two world wars and the Korean conflict were engraved right into the stone. A few more casualties from the Vietnam War have been added using individual plaques affixed to the monument.

But Sergeant Craig Frank stands out from the rest … he has his own monument that honors a life cut short way too soon.

This memorial statue is a tribute to Sergeant Frank, a member of the Army National Guard’s 1775th Military Police Company out of Pontiac, Michigan. It is found next to the monument that commemorates all the City’s war dead. Craig Frank was elevated to Sergeant four days following his death on July 17, 2004 from injuries sustained from a rocket-propelled grenade (RPG) that struck him from behind while he was providing armed protection for an American military convoy north of Baghdad, Iraq during Operation Iraqi Freedom.

Sergeant Frank’s Fallen Heroes Memorial is a concrete pillar where a likeness of the 24-year-old’s boots, firearm and helmet have been cast in bronze and sit atop the pillar.

You can read about Sergeant Craig at this Fallen Heroes Memorial site.

This is not the original memorial. I went to see the original memorial after reading an article in the local newspaper, but not long after the dedication, metal scrappers dismantled the statue. There was outrage and money was raised to replace it and since then, Sergeant Frank’s memorial statue has remained intact, silently honoring him, year after year and season after season.

Because I knew I would once again spotlight Sergeant Frank, I made multiple meanders over to the veterans tribute pavilion at Memorial Park to take pictures of the statue honoring this young man’s valor. I’d already taken photos in the Fall for a prior post, so I will include a few here. This year, on a snowy Winter day, I made a brief foray to the memorial, then in early Spring and my most-recent visit was to see/photograph the flags placed in advance for the Memorial Day ceremony held May 21st.

Memorial Park meanders in various seasons.

In Autumn, the golden glow of leaves littering the ground made it very picturesque – the ambiance was peaceful.

On one Summer visit l noticed a flag had been entwined with the boots and gun and secured with a plastic poppy.

When I visited Sergeant Frank’s memorial in the Winter, there was something new added – a baseball cap from a Vietnam vet.

When I returned in early Spring, I was pleased to see the cap was still there, although it was hanging off a different boot.

The cap remained in place just prior to the Memorial Day parade.

Our new mayor, Mike Higgins, was Craig Frank’s swimming coach, so he knew him as a high school athlete – had he lived, what would Craig Frank be doing now at 43 years old?

Have a safe Memorial Day.

Posted in Memorial Day, Uncategorized | Tagged Memorial Day, Memorial Park, Sergeant Craig Frank, walk, walking | 25 Comments

Just Chillin’. #Wordless Wednesday #Feeling ducky!

Posted on May 24, 2023 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, nature | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, Mallard Ducks, nature | 27 Comments

Learning on my terms.

Posted on May 22, 2023 by Linda Schaub

Last week I received an e-mail – the re: line was “Hello, Dear LPHS 1973 Classmate!” and the topic was our LPHS 50th Reunion. Even though my previous RSVPs were a hard “no” it seemed the flyer attached to the e-mail was supposed to evoke fond memories, i.e.:

You probably noticed those memories didn’t mention the scholastic aspect of high school. I have to tell you that our senior year was more memorable for the 1973 LPHS grads as we crammed three years of fun activities into that final year. That is because the sophomore and junior years were strictly scholastic due to millage issues and not only did we lack extracurricular activities, but we had a bare-bones education with no college prep classes or foreign language studies and, for those students hoping to get college scholarships based on athletic prowess, there were no sports. Band/chorale/drama and clubs, even driver’s ed were not on the school agenda; thus, for two years we trudged to school for half-day classes, basically no-frills high school.

However, all amenities returned our senior year, so school was a little more exciting as we cheered on our “Rails” at football games with the marching band in attendance, we oohed and aahed when our classmates suddenly morphed into thespians at high school plays and school dances in the cafeteria gave us a chance to show off our dance moves and/or advertise we had two left feet.

Our high school education was not stellar, but I never realized that until I arrived at Henry Ford Community College in September 1973 where I soon learned that students from the many local high schools had read all the classic books, some which I still have not read as of today. They studied Shakespeare and Beowulf (ugh). That was an education – our education was shabby in comparison.

A lot of classes were mandatory and even today, I don’t see how Algebra and Geometry were useful. How about diagramming sentences for English classes? And we spent months learning about American History, only to gloss over World Wars I and II as the end of the school year was quickly approaching. We were living in the moment with the Vietnam War as I can remember hearing “Tie a Yellow Ribbon ‘Round the Old Oak Tree” on the school PA system in anticipation of our soldiers returning from the Vietnam War and soon yellow ribbons encircled tree trunks.

And then there were science classes …

Though I’ve shared with you in the past how I wanted to become a veterinarian, my lack of good grades in math and most of the science classes was the death knell for that career choice. Memorizing a shadow box of rocks and their properties for physical science, or mixing up beakers with concoctions for chemistry class sadly did not hold my interest. But perhaps if I had fellow blogger, retired chemistry teacher, Laurie, as my high school chemistry teacher it would have been different. The most-exciting part of chemistry class was when classmates filled the lab with a dark purple smoke … we, of course, thought that was pretty cool, since “Smoke on the Water” by Deep Purple, was a popular song at the time. Mr. Mumau was not amused.

But Biology class – well that was a whole ‘nother story. Notwithstanding classes spent dissecting a worm, frog and fetal pig (exercises which served no purpose in my humble opinion), Mr. Gray did make class fun. He once passed around a box of chocolates and soon thereafter fellow classmate Richard Long got green around the gills after he learned he had eaten a chocolate-covered bug.

All was not lost … I still received that diploma and went on to further my education. Education is never a waste of time – it is good to learn and not let your brain stagnate. So, nowadays, learning is on my own terms, immersing myself in the experience instead of becoming book smart.

A slow stroll through nature …

So, that is why ten days ago I found myself at the Environmental Interpretive Center at University of Michigan-Dearborn’s campus. You can read about it by clicking here.

I thought I would do this immersive experience and learn along the way. The visit was part of a trifecta of treks taken that day, which I began by enjoying the woodsy vibes of the Rouge Gateway Trail and a morning meander around the Ford Estate to see and smell the 154 Persian Lilacs.

Today’s post will focus on the trails behind the Environmental Interpretive Center. There are organized bird and wildflower walks, but I decided to do a stroll on my own. So what would I see? I knew there was lots to see because this nature preserve touts its biological diversity:

250 species of birds
80 species of trees/woody plants
170 species of wildflowers
12 species of reptiles
9 species of amphibians
24 species of mammals

I never knew about this place until Phil at Wild Birds Unlimited posted some pics about a hike taken with his wife and suggested we visit to check out the birds and wildflowers. It is just one-half mile down the road from the Ford Estate.

The first item I spotted was a bee hotel …

… and a lot of bird feeders.

A savvy Chipmunk was scamming seeds that had spilled near the bird feeders.

Before I embarked on the trail I stopped to see where mushrooms were “in progress” both on logs …

… and in a special glass-topped mushroom grow box. This Mourning Dove was not as interested in mushrooms as it was its reflection.

While taking pictures of the Dove, a Wild Turkey happened by …

… but quickly disappeared into an overgrown part of the trail, likely to avoid me, or perhaps to join its mate. I was reluctant to step through that matted grass and brush due to ticks, so I had to settle for pics from afar.

I saw a weather station.

Then I started meandering along Dogwood Trail.

Some fungi on a decimated tree were not part of the mushroom project.

I took the Black Walnut Trail …

… which led me to a clearing in the woods where I could decide what to visit next.

I decided to check out Fairlane Lake on the outskirts of Fairlane, Henry and Clara Ford’s Estate.

I opted to see where the trail leading to Fair Lane Lake took me and found a birder with binoculars pressed up to his eyes checking for birds in the nearby trees. We chatted briefly and then I went along the Lakeside Trail which was picturesque.

I could see a group and their guide across the lake.

The path was peaceful …

But I would soon meet up with another group; these were U of M students scribbling notes and watching a guide (or perhaps a teacher) discussing trees.

I don’t miss school and studies at all. Learning on my own is much nicer.

From here I walked back to the Estate and discovered more old, architectural goodies I had missed my other three or four times visiting this venue. They will be in a separate post.

Finally …

I was pleased to discover a Cardinal nesting in my barberry bush. I was lucky to see her land on the bush, then disappear inside of it two weeks ago. I walked over to find a small, cup-shaped nest. A few days later Mrs. Cardinal began incubating those eggs; I researched and found it takes 11-13 days for those eggs to hatch. I hope to do a post about the baby Cardinals at a later date

Posted in nature, walk, walking | Tagged nature, walk, walking | 61 Comments

Dandelion Darling. #Wordless Wednesday #Wanna share?

Posted on May 17, 2023 by Linda Schaub

Wordless Wednesday – allow your photo(s) to tell the story.

Posted in #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, nature, walk, walking | Tagged #WildlifeWednesday, #Wordless Wednesday, Canada Goose gosling, nature, walk, walking | 53 Comments

Tempus Fugit.

Posted on May 14, 2023 by Linda Schaub

Well I’ve stumbled across a few Latin phrases after 43 years in the legal biz, a few which I’ve committed to memory, but it doesn’t really impress folks much when you throw around res ipsa loquitur or ipso facto … so I keep them in my back pocket just in case I want to appear extra smart. Trust me, there are a lot of trite things that fill my brain and take up valuable real estate there; no wonder I forget what I went downstairs for sometimes.

Lots of Latin phrases roll off our tongue in everyday conversation like per se or a few of my favorites are carpe diem (seize the day) and caveat emptor (let the buyer beware). We could fill this post with common Latin phrases ad infinitum (forever) but for today the topic is “tempus fugit” (time flies).

This post was borne out of my original intent to write about this fellow, a/k/a “Joe”:

It is a story that took on legs after I went from discussing the restoration of Joe the Monkey to delving into the past wherein I began some serious time traveling.

Before I sat down to write this post, I was thinking about just how many vintage items, besides Joe, are in this house (not counting me of course).

While the clock with the words Tempus Fugit is not that old – I bought it for my parents’ 25th wedding anniversary in 1978 – the time pieces, a wristwatch and pendant watch, belonged to my mom and they were gifts from my father, likely during their courtship – they would have been married 70 years on June 11th.

The prayer book and prayer cards are the most-vintage items of the mementos I have. The prayer book has held up well, with the only damage being that the outer layer of the book’s spine is missing.

Mom made her communion, some 90 years ago and is pictured here by herself and with my grandparents on that day.

Moms Don’t Tolerate Monkey Business!

(At least my mom didn’t.) Though I have often sung the praises of my late mother throughout the pendency of this blog, while growing up, it was Mom who wore the disciplinarian pants in the household. During my formative years I was “Daddy’s Little Princess” and in his eyes I could do no wrong, BUT Mom kept a close rein on what I could and couldn’t do. Oh yes, I had a few spankings from Mom’s hand in my day when I pushed my luck a wee bit too far with her, but, since I was an only child and raised so strictly, believe me, those instances were few and far between.

In the past, I’ve written about the “Momisms” that were dispensed. There were always words to the wise, plenty of advice and the inevitable “I told you so” which lasted well into adulthood. I’m sure you got the same lines about “monkey see – monkey do” or “if everyone else jumps off a bridge, do you have to follow?” Yes, Mom was always dispensing a ton of advice and I knew to toe the line, because if I went down any other path, I’d hear about it, or feel it on my bum.

So why is today’s post mostly about “monkeying around” anyway?

After I published my Christmastime post about my favorite childhood doll “Tilda Jane” (click here for that post in case you missed it), there were a lot of fun comments from fellow bloggers and readers alike. I no longer have any of my own dolls, nor Mom’s dolls, although through the years she often told me she wished she had saved her Shirley Temple for me.

There is, however, an honorable mention, an asterisk regarding one vintage toy. “Joe” is a felt monkey Mom hand crafted when she was a patient at the Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto, Ontario. Mom spent four long years at that hospital, as well as Thistletown, a branch of the HSC which was a long-term care facility for kids.

She was only 11 years old when she was struck down by a car on July 11, 1937. She would have 42 operations in her lifetime, all orthopedic but one … the C-section which was me.

Mom was very ill the first year and in a body cast. She was in a ward with other sick children, some who had polio. To occupy their minds, those young patients had arts and crafts, like leatherwork and constructing animals from felt, like this bendable felt monkey which Mom named Joe.

Joe sat in a corner atop the loveseat … that is, before my collection of teddy bears began encroaching into more rooms. One day, I noticed Joe was missing from his usual spot. When I asked Mom where he was, her answer was “I put Joe away in a drawer until you move some of those bears around.” Then she added “one day when you’re at the craft store, buy some brown felt and wire … that monkey is missing a tail.”

I used to sew all my own clothes back in the 70s before tall clothing was available, plus I dabbled in lots of crafts in my day, so I knew I had felt on hand and meekly responded with “okay” but I never got this simple task accomplished.

It was actually Mom who started me on the teddy bear collection when we were at the mall and she bought me a cute bear in the early 80s. As a youngster I was allergic to stuffed animals, so I grew up with zero plush toys. Mom would later rue the day she bought that teddy bear, as 51 would follow until I called it quits as to stuffed bruins. Some bears I bought, but most were gifts. Mom said “thank goodness” to ending the teddy bear collection, then turned around and purchased a cute monkey while we were at the Hallmark card store a few months later.

She suggested I name it “Linda” – well Mom was full of monkeyshines sometimes, but then she sarcastically added “you’ll find a place for YOUR monkey; meanwhile MY monkey is in the drawer, awaiting a tail.” Well that comment stung just a bit.

The tail must be fixed, or the tale cannot be told.

Flash forward to that December 19, 2022 post and in the Comments section, I committed myself to restoring Joe to his former self and in doing so I knew I would create a Mother’s Day post as well. I had about five months to whip Mom’s monkey into shape – no worries!

After the flurry of comments, that very same evening, I retrieved Joe from the drawer where he’d been tucked away a few decades, then studied him anew. Admittedly, the years had not been kind to him. Although ol’ Joe had no wrinkles to show his old age, where his legs bent, the fabric had begun to pull apart. Hmm – was that even fixable?

Then, I turned him over – sigh. How would I fix the tail dilemma?

For a split second, I toyed with the idea of finding a similar-sized monkey and swapping tails à la Tilda Jane’s head-swapping adventure. Heck, Amazon has about everything you desire, right? So, I perused Amazon for possible “fixer-uppers for a tired and worn monkey” but came away with no magic monkey fixes, (unless I wanted to dress up like a monkey – um, no thanks). So I ordered brown pipe cleaners and a dark brown waterproof magic marker and those fixin’s have been in the closet in the Amazon bag until Mother’s Day grew near.

Sewing was a passion for me once upon a time.

When I was a little girl, Mom borrowed my grandmother’s Singer treadle sewing machine and made a few dresses for me and my dolls, notably Tilda Jane. I remember a black/gray and white dress with a bright red sash was “our” favorite. We even had matching fuzzy pink cardigans with pearl buttons Mom knit for us. Since I expressed an interest in sewing, I got a children’s sewing machine for Christmas. It was beige, made by Singer and sewed like a regular sewing machine but used no bobbin, so seams could not tolerate too much strain or they would burst.

I would like to imagine I looked like this little girl from a vintage card site (Vintage Greeting Card Art on Facebook).

When I suddenly shot up to 5’9” tall in the early 70s, sewing my own clothes became a necessity, or else I would look like I wore my younger sister’s duds. I got a regular sewing machine in a console and matching chair in the early 70s and sewed for many years thereafter. I was not good at hand sewing, however, so Mom would baste in sleeves and zippers for me and, as each project was completed, she’d hem it and sew on the buttons. She often said “I hope you don’t take credit for sewing this from start to finish when I do all the hand sewing.”

Here was one of my creations, circa 1975, with me standing with my short parents and even shorter grandmother.

The weather was so-so, so sew-sew I did to get ‘er done.

We’ve had a few rainy weekends, so, amid a little fanfare, it was time to get the photos done for this post.

First, I grabbed my old sewing basket and got everything together for my project.

Here is Joe before. You can see the wear marks where his legs were bent. It appears his “innards” were some type of shredded flannel.

I decided to document the repair.

The easiest fix would be twisting eight brown craft pipe cleaners together and attaching them to Joe.

I wasn’t crazy about that look so decided to use them INSIDE the felt, chastising myself by saying “Linda, if you’re going to do this, you’ll do it right!”

(Hmm – talk about vintage … that red tomato pin cushion I got for 8th grade Home Ec class, circa 1968.)

After a few (okay seven) unsuccessful attempts to thread the sewing needle, I was sure Mom was looking down and laughing. Flashing back I could picture her sitting at the kitchen table ready for a hand-sewing session, saying “Linda why don’t you make yourself useful and thread this needle for me – your eyes are younger than mine.” Well, I tried to thread that needle’s eye with my glasses off, then on. In the process I bent the needle threader … finally, success and you can bet I used the longest piece of thread so I didn’t have to repeat that exercise again!

Finally the tail was done and sewn on – no, I didn’t just use a safety pin. Ol’ Joe was ready for the final touches.

I uncapped the magic marker – it smelled so badly I was sure I’d keel over from the fumes before I finished the touch-ups, but when they were done, he looked great. If only I could be revitalized so easily!

I estimate Joe to be at least 85 years old. I don’t know exactly when Mom crafted him, but I suspect around age 12-13. I posed Joe with Linda for this post.