I thought I’d take a little creative license and tweak John Fogerty’s “Proud Mary” lyrics just a tad for the title of this blog post. I know that song will be an earworm for you the rest of the day now. I prefer the Tina Turner version myself.
It’s been over a month since I took this trek and captured some images along the Detroit River – it was on Groundhog Day, February 2nd. I wanted to stay outside as long as I could to soak up the sunshine and enjoy the predicted 54F (12C) temperature later in the day, but when I stepped outside in the early morn, it was a little chilly, so I scurried back inside to grab a heavier jacket since I’d be down on the waterfront.
This was a three-park day on that gorgeous Sunday, with the first stop taking the longest, at Council Point Park. I was only going to stay about an hour at that venue, but, you may recall, on that trek I spent considerable time mesmerized by the Canada Goose, who was not grazing on grass, nor scamming the squirrels’ peanuts, but wrangling a fish. I was able to take a series of photos of the goose with its prize; in case you missed the post, just click here.
It was a Sunday stroll to savor.
After leaving Council Point Park, I drove to Bishop Park in Wyandotte. Wyandotte is a fairly cosmopolitan city and its business district and many eateries are found in close proximity to this riverfront park. Once warmer weather arrives, there are many events in the areas adjacent to the waterfront like fireworks, street fairs, parades and the like. Bishop Park is not a large park, just 12.2 acres, but has a veterans memorial, small playground, pavilion and picnicking amenities. Its boardwalk stretches just about one city block, so it’s not a place you’d go to bulk up on steps for your walking regimen. Bishop Park’s biggest draw is the scenic view of big freighters as they glide past Hennepin Point and sometimes pass one another on the horizon. The kayakers come to the launch area on sunny Summer days.
The wooden pier, which juts out over the Detroit River, is a favorite spot for anglers and home to the City’s Annual Fishing Derby which has occurred the first Saturday in June for over three decades.
But on this morning, surprisingly, just a handful of folks were Sunday strolling. Perhaps they would gather once the temps warmed up later in the day. It was kind of windy and I was mindful of those occasional gusts as the wind buffeted me a few times while I walked along the pier and riverfront. I was grateful for the guard rails as I watched waves leaping up and lapping against the seawall, even though not a single boat was in sight. You can see the flags flapping in the stiff breeze.
If you close your eyes while here at the Detroit River’s edge, the shrieking seagulls could make you think you are walking along a beach shoreline and not just a block away from a bustling business district. Surprisingly the seagulls were absent though. In the Summer, the bold and brazen seagulls have been known to swipe a hot dog or hamburger bun right off someone’s BBQ grill at Bishop Park. Then yelling, or maybe a little swearing ensues, something like “hey wait a minute – come back with that! … um, maybe not – I guess it’s yours Bud.”
The sun was shining brightly for the first time in several weeks, and even I, the ultimate weather worrier, had to concede that maybe the two Groundhogs, the infamous Punxsutawney Phil and Woody, Michigan’s female woodchuck, (whose predictions are more accurate than Phil’s), were spot on in their early Spring prediction. “How nice if the snow and bitter cold were done for the season” I thought. As the sun got stronger and brighter, I knew I would savor this little “Spring Fling” should Winter make a return visit, so I would indeed “seize the day” as that expression goes. I even unzipped my coat as suddenly it seemed unbelievably and uncomfortably warm, despite the strong winds.
Enamored of eagles.
After departing Bishop Park, I walked around downtown Wyandotte a little, then headed to Dingell Park, just about 2½ miles away. The beautiful day had brought a few fishermen to this riverfront venue, as well as spectators with binoculars pressed up against their eyes and photographers toting tripods and long lenses. All gathered silently at the boardwalk, hoping for a glimpse of, or a perfect shot of, a Bald Eagle.
The pavilion area juts out a little over the cove. Sometimes the cove area, with its rocky shoreline and extremely clear water, may be teeming with Canada Geese, Mallard and Canvasback Ducks and Seagulls; even the occasional Mute Swan or Great Blue Heron will put in an appearance to the delight of children and adults.
But the main attraction every year, mostly in January and February, are the Bald Eagles that live in the trees on Mud Island, one of the collection of many small, uninhabited islands that are part of the Detroit River International Wildlife Refuge and the northernmost island of the Refuge.
Oh, to soar like an eagle …
I’ve visited Dingell Park when a heavy ice covering had multiple shorebirds riding on the ice floes and I blogged about it. It was fun to watch them on the ice as it clinked against the seawall and the floes bounced into one another. But, enjoyable as the waterfowl may be, the crowd is not there to see them, but the big prize, the eagles which dip and dive through the skies as they exit the trees to scope out fish in the Detroit River. Sometimes those eagles will swoop down, talons extended, to grab a silvery shad, or, depending on the amount of ice on the Detroit River, those eagles will perch on an ice floe and simply study any open water for a sign of life. If you go to Dingell Park on Facebook, the site is full of eagle photos every January and February and other waterfowl throughout the year. Here is the link if you care to see them – trust me, my eagle photos will likely never make it to this informal Facebook site.
By late Spring/early Summer the Walleye run makes it difficult to get to this park on a weekend. Pickup trucks with their hitches line West Jefferson Avenue, boats jam the waterways and anglers are elbow-to-elbow at riverfront piers all along the Detroit River, as local fishermen and even those from across the country, come to the annual Walleye run.
While I didn’t get any great eagle shots (or none good enough to satisfy my eagle quest for my 2020 Photo Bucket List), if you scrunch up your face and squint at the pictures just the right way, you’ll find eagles in my shots below.
Post script: I returned again on February 21st and the eagles must’ve slept in. A trip to the riverfront yesterday yielded the very last eagle shot, albeit a bit blurry. Something tells me you have to be in the right place at the right time .
With near-tropical temps on the horizon for Sunday, I thought I’d better hurry and do this post about the birds I encountered in frosty February, as well as my 2020 Birdie Bucket List.
I scored a few lucky shots of birds this Winter.
At my favorite park I saw this bird (believed to be a Kinglet) on a frosty cold day – see how it is fluffed up, a/k/a “floofy” (another newfangled bird word like “chonky” which I shared last week). As frigid as it was on this morning, this fellow was singing away. I was surprised that puffs of condensation were not coming from its beak – poor little bird.
I also was ecstatic to finally snag a few photos of the male Red-Bellied Woodpecker at Council Point Park and I captured these shots on a gloriously sunny day with a bright-blue sky.
Every morning, Mr. Woodpecker is either making a loud screechy noise or drilling its long and pointed beak into a decayed tree. Just check out the damage this woodpecker has done!
He’s not only creating small cavities in the tree, but also looking for grubs – I hate to tell you Bud, but the grubs are still asleep. Occasionally the woodpecker will come down to ground level to grab a peanut, but Sunday was apparently “Drilling Day” for this guy. Regardless of how he is decimating this tree, isn’t he a beautiful bird?
I caught a glimpse of my first male Red-Winged Blackbird last weekend, though I’d been hearing the calls for about a week. Though this bird was shy and kept his back turned, I was happy to at least get a shot of his colorful “epaulets” for this post.
Back to Birdie Nirvana …
I made a return trip to Elizabeth Park to the feeder station, hoping to get more up-close shots of the visitors to that tree and memorial stone. It was a poor showing that morning, except for a White-Breasted Nuthatch …
… and a cute Black-capped Chickadee.
Do you make lists? I make ‘em and have for years, whether they are a handful of items jotted down if I’m running errands, or the perpetual New Year’s Resolutions. I even made a list of items I wanted to accomplish over the Winter 2019-2020, since the weather forecast called for a brutally cold and extra-snowy season. Ha ha – happily that wicked Winter wallop did not happen and yes, I am mindful that we often get snow in April. We are way behind on our snowfall this season, though we’ve had lots of rain and freezing rain, which is worse than snow in my opinion.
So, just ask me how many items I have fulfilled in the latter two to-do lists? Wait … don’t ask. The house is still cluttered, my exercise bike goes unused since I walked more than expected and the art supplies/how-to books to begin sketching again, following the interpretive walk/sketching event last year, remain untouched. They’ll likely get deposited into the “things-to-do-when-retired” Rubbermaid tote downstairs. Even the stockpile of books I anticipated reading during the predicted horrendous Winter season languish in the drawer, taking up still more space and creating additional clutter. Where was the woman who wanted to read one book a month? Or twenty books in 2020? Hmmm.
But one list I’ve created since turning the calendar page to March, is my 2020 Photo Bucket List. This photo bucket list, for me, is an annual ritual (even if I never seem to accomplish it). Sadly, I no longer have fellow-walker Mike scoping out Dingell Park to alert me when the swans take their cygnets on a piggyback ride, or, when those sweet ducklings toddle down to the river’s edge for their first clumsy paddle and swimming lessons from Mom.
I do follow the Facebook pages of various parks in my area to see the local photographers’ discoveries at these venues. In Spring 2019, based on local photographers’ shots, I hustled up to Heritage Park twice looking for cute-and-fuzzy ducklings streaming in a neat row behind Mama Mallard, but had no success either time.
So let’s have a look at what I’m setting my sights on this year.
I spent many hot and humid mornings at Taylor Conservatory and Botanical Gardens trying to get a picture of a hummer sipping nectar from the abundance of beautiful blooms. There were butterflies galore, however … not a single hummingbird.
Last year, the local Detroit Audubon site reported an influx of Bluebirds and Baltimore Orioles in the Downriver area. I’ve yet to see a Bluebird, despite a kind soul and avian lover who hung several wooden nesting boxes for them at Lake Erie Metropark. When strolling through the ‘hood, I’ve seen no Bluebirds, nor at my favorite nature nook either. These pretty blue birds with the rosy red breasts, relish mealworms – does that mean I need to carry a Ziploc bag of them to have the Bluebird of Happiness grace me with its presence?
I saw one colorful, orange-and-black Baltimore Oriole at Council Point Park and it was its strong song, not the plumage, which made me glance up to a nearby tree. Before I could grab the camera, it was gone. I know the Oriole delights in oranges – perhaps I need to carry a clementine or two with me, though Orioles prefer their treat halved and jammed into a holder, not segmented like you and I enjoy our oranges or clementines.
As to waterfowl and raptors …
Though I’ve seen many Mute Swans (which are considered invasive in our state), I’ve yet to see them with their offspring. I’ve heard the Trumpeter Swans overhead. Their wing-flapping alerts me to their presence by a loud humming noise, but they pass by so fleetingly that I am unable to get a good shot of them and they never land to graze.
Likewise, the Canvasback Ducks congregate at Dingell Park. I’ve often seen photos posted on that park’s Facebook page of a contingent of Canvasbacks with their unique rust, black and white plumage. I saw one of these beauties in the cove area, but it was so far away it was difficult to tell the species.
And every year I am on the prowl to glimpse and take a photo of an owl. Fellow blogger and bird lover Sandra and I recently agreed that owls were on our perpetual photo bucket lists. Well Sandra’s wish came true earlier this week when she spotted a Burrowing Owl in Florida, in the middle of the day and at ground level. Click here to check out Sandra’s find.
Last year a Snowy Owl was making its presence known at Belle Isle and in Downtown Detroit, as well as frequenting local marshy areas like Pointe Mouillee. So, on a cold January day, I traipsed around Point Mouillee, hoping to see this beautiful white owl, which, because it typically hunts by day, coupled with different migrating patterns, was photographed at that venue on several occasions. Unfortunately, I didn’t glimpse the Snowy Owl that day (or any time thereafter) and, when I reported my abysmal owl search in that day’s blog post, Joe, a fellow from the ‘hood, and also a follower of this blog, sent me a shot of a cute owl he spotted mid-day perched in an evergreen tree at the local DPS just a mile away. I’ve yet to find a Great Horned Owl at Elizabeth Park on my many treks there, though fellow blogger Pril suggested I might fulfill my quest there – nope, no success yet. Perhaps they are hiding from me? (And no, I refuse to carry a mouse to entice it from the treetops.)
So, no owl in the wild, but I saw a rehabbed owl last year at Oakwoods Metropark. He sat motionless in his cage, not even emitting a single “hoooooo” to my greeting of “how are you?”
Likewise, in the past two years I’ve gone to the prime viewing sites for migrating raptors and the best I could do was to get a meh shot of a homely Turkey Vulture. Oh, I’ve seen plenty of Cooper’s Hawks or “Chicken Hawks” as some folks call them – they circle overhead while I’m at Council Point Park. My first encounter was when one tried to nab “Stubby” (the resident squirrel with half his tail missing, thus his moniker), within seconds after he scurried over to my feet to gobble up peanuts which I had just placed onto the path. Stubby escaped with his life by diving under a picnic table in the pavilion area and the hawk flew over to the high fence, fixing his glare on my furry friend. I’m sure my heart was beating as furiously as Stubby’s, as I would have made him a sitting duck had the hawk snatched him. A few months ago I was driving and an adult Cooper’s Hawk suddenly swooped down from a tree and headed for my windshield – it was scary! That hawk dived down, then turned with its large wings as I steered sideways to avoid it. I’m no fan of these birds of prey who seek to make a meal of the small songbirds, or even the squirrels, and this hawk must have sensed my vibes about it.
Although I can view rehabbed Bald Eagle Luc, in his enclosure at Lake Erie Metropark, I have been diligently trying to see an eagle in a more natural environment. To that end, I’ve visited Dingell Park to stand alongside the photographers with their tripods and lenses as long as my arm. They camp out for hours, hoping an eagle will fly out from uninhabited Mud Island to go fishing in the Detroit River. I am going this weekend, for the third outing there, in a last-ditch attempt for an eagle shot, otherwise I’m going to just post my previous eagle photos and use a red arrow to point them out to you.
And then there are the local backyard birds …
I thought I’d participate in the 23rd annual “Great Backyard Bird Count” which took place over Valentine’s Day Weekend. The global bird count encourages ordinary people from around the world to count backyard birds from February 14th through 17th and report on their sightings. I thought it would be fun and blogworthy. After all, I see those Northern Cardinals and Blue Jays when I tender peanuts and sunflower seeds here at the house and the Park. On Sunday the 16th, I took the time to spread out extra treats on the sidewalk, then stood patiently by, hoping to count several birds to make my contribution, not to mention getting a few shots of these photogenic birds. Well they slept in I guess. I put the camera away, muttered to myself as I went to take the car out of the garage, then peeked at the side of the house before departing, only to discover multiple cardinals and jays chowing down – grrrrr. My bird count was so abysmal that I didn’t end up participating.
So, will I fulfill my Photo Birdie Bucket List by year-end?
The weather forecasters were correct this time – Ol’ Man Winter made a return visit, stopping by just long enough to whiten the landscape and put down a layer of ice that made the driveway look like an icy washboard. The two-day event included snow that was blowing and drifting and when it was all done, there was 5 ½ inches of new snow with an icy glaze. I spent each weekday morning shoveling or grumbling about the ice. I’m on the shady side of the street (as to where the sunshine finally hits late in the day, not necessarily the inhabitants of this block), so when we had temps dip down to a “real feel” in single digits, even walking down the sidewalk or driveway was a slick trip.
So, I didn’t walk any weekdays since I ran errands last Monday before the snow event. When the sun melted a wee bit of driveway ice Friday afternoon, I seized that opportunity to get down to Council Point Park Saturday morning. This time the pathway had not fared so well. The City had not plowed so the walking path was still snow-and-ice covered. It was bitter cold and I wondered if I needed to coax the squirrels to ground level and onto the grass, where snow reached the top of my hiking boots, but where I wisely chose to walk so I didn’t land on my butt.
It sure was pretty though …
Great expectations.
The squirrels were scoping me out from their nests high above … before I would get to them, they had scrambled out of their trees and awaited me, so I almost felt like a celebrity with a passel of adoring fans. 🙂
“Are you coming to me or should I come to you – what is the proper peanut protocol here?”
“Hey Linda – the snow is up to my knees here – can we go a little faster?”
My furry friends were eager to eat despite the cold and snow and I was able to walk parallel to one loop (the equivalent of one mile) to dole out peanuts and get some photos too.
The snow was high enough to tickle the squirrels’ pale underbellies and appear on their furry faces, so I couldn’t resist pulling the camera out to get a few photos of my peanut pals’ antics and their cute snow-covered noses.
“I rubbed my snout in the snow to look cuter – do I get extra peanuts for doing that?“
“I think I’ll pose for Linda though my snowy snout makes me lose my credibility just a little.”
I needn’t have worried they would not come down from their cozy nests to eat … Parker led the pack of peanut pals …
“Where were you all week?”
“Do I smell fresh peanuts? Hurry my tummy is rumbling!“
“I can smell fresh peanuts a mile away … I’m on it!“
Meanwhile … the early bird, er squirrel has the best selection when another pile of peanuts is dropped.
I picked my way precariously as I needed to step on some of the icy path as I headed back to the pavilion where I left more peanuts and suet, some offerings for later in the day.
The suet offering is for the birds; likely the squirrels will thwart attempts to gain access to it.
I completed my steps by doing a couple of miles in the parking lot, which had been plowed and salted. There was only one other walker and he likewise sidestepped the icy path like I did. I returned yesterday and it was a little better, but not much.
This morning a torrential rain is pounding the snow and ice away and is about thirty degrees warmer than it was on Saturday! Here are a few more of the friendly faces I encountered:
“Thank you, thank you, thank you – um, can I go home with you?“
“Winter is for the birds, I tell ya …”
Well, looks like even the birds are contemplating going South – who wants to stick around in this weather?
“Must. Bury. Peanuts. (Just in case Linda doesn’t return again.)”
“My tail is blowing sideways and I’m freezing. Next time bring along a hat, scarf and mitts okay?”
Winter will return after a few days of playing hide-and-go-seek.
We basked in four days of sunshine – did you know that here in Michigan we had not enjoyed four days in a row of sunshine since July 2019? Yep, it was a real travesty.
And, not only did we revel in the sun’s rays, but this past weekend, the temps shot to 50F (10C) which is certainly not your usual late February weather. Cars cruised by with windows down or sunroofs slid open, motorcyclists zoomed around and BBQs were christened for the 2020 grilling season. I walked ten miles over the weekend, hitting three parks and taking loads of photos.
It was all good, except now we have a Winter storm watch through Thursday with a projected sizable snowfall amount of 6-8 inches (if they are correct, that is).
What the heck happened? Maybe the Groundhog will not be so smart and smug after all!
No wonder Winter makes us want to hunker inside the house and eat heavy comfort foods like mac-n-cheese, bread pudding or fresh-baked cookies for the entire season. Winter weather causes us to lose all our sensibilities for goodness sake.
Of course, if we are not mindful of what we eat, we may just end up looking a little roly-poly, just sayin’.
One moment you are svelte and before you know it, you have a rotund, Buddha-like shape.
In a four-season state, it is easy to pack on a few pounds over the Winter months and though you may glance at those love handles in the mirror, you just put on a heavier sweater and tell yourself “I got lots of time before I need to wear shorts or a bathing suit.”
Of course the squirrels can get away with these extra fat rolls … people just smile and say they are cute and chonky … “chonky” is Twitterspeak for saying an animal is chunky looking.
Actually Dictionary.com does recognize this word. It sounds amusing and better than saying “fat” – in my opinion anyway.
This journey to Fat Tuesday began with Halloween – you had a nibble here or there, swiping mini candy bars from the bags of Halloween candy you stashed away. But you didn’t stash them far enough away – they were too handy and then after you downed a bar here or there, you helped yourself to a handful of candy corn or orange-and-brown M&Ms every time you passed the dish. Then there was that marathon 36-hour torrential rain and gusty wind event on Halloween night, no kids showed up, so you ended up with a ton of leftover candy – you didn’t want to let it get stale, right?
Soon it was the Thanksgiving table groaning with goodies and that festive event just transitioned into the holiday season. Well you had to be polite and sociable, right?
Oh, you said you’d atone for your non-stop eating sins on New Year’s Day … so how did that work out?
Did you eat all the bon bons in the heart-shaped box your significant other got you for Valentine’s Day?
Perhaps you indulged in a few pieces of fresh cherry pie for George Washington’s birthday this past weekend?
That translates to a lot of calories … and, as proud of myself as I was walking ten miles last weekend, I only walked off 1,000 calories (10,000 steps/5 miles burns just 500 calories).
That’s an OMG moment for sure!
In Michigan, paczkis will cause your diet to self-destruct.
Well, you can enjoy one final food fling today for Fat Tuesday. If you’re going to indulge in a food feast, having fat-laden jelly donuts known as paczki is the way to go.
Just inhaling the scent of those delightful jelly donuts packs on the pounds, no matter what the flavor.
There is something for everyone … glazed paczki with raspberry, custard, or even lemon filling.
But beware – you’re sure to end up with sticky fingers (or paws).
But, if you opt for the powdered sugar paczki like these …
… you’re sure to have a sprinkling of powdered sugar on your face (even on your forehead/fur).
While you might be scratching your head wondering how to spell or say the word “paczki” – well here’s a primer for you: if you’re only going to have one of these delicious donuts, you’ll ask for a “paczek” (pronounced “poon-check”) and more than one (if you dare), then that would be plural or “paczki” (pronounced “poonch-key”) and no “s” for more than one of these delectable donuts BTW. Though not easy to spell or pronounce, they are easy eating – just don’t look at the nutritional value (depending on whether jelly or custard, one donut can be 500 to 1,000 calories and anywhere from 24 to 48 grams of fat).
Whew! Good thing Fat Tuesday only comes once a year!
[Images from Twitter and Pinterest and some of my favorite Park pals … Parker over-indulged in heart cookies, so he was not around. 🙂 ]
One month from today is Spring (even though I thought it was always the 21st when I was a young ‘un, or so it seemed). In a four-season state, normally by the third week of February, we are so Winter weary, that we rejoice when the sun peeks out from behind the ever-present gloomy skies, or, by chance we hear a songbird warbling in a tree as we pass by. Every little glimpse of Springtime now will fill my heart with joy.
On Monday I saw and heard my first Robin – what a welcome sight and sound that was.
Before long, the marshy area around Council Point Park will be filled with the call of the Red-Winged Blackbird as it trills to its mate.
Only then do I feel like Spring is just around the corner.
Long-range Winter predictions were a bit scary.
Our Winter has been wacky, but not just here in Southeast Michigan. Way back in October, it was more than ghosts and goblins scaring us, as several learned meteorologists, including the local folks, the National Weather Service – even those prognosticators from The Old Farmer’s Almanac, all gave a long-range forecast for an extra snowy and cold Winter. I believed them as they sagely predicted this doomsday and even added that it would likely rival or surpass Winter 2018-2019 for snowfall and brutal temps. “Ugh” I thought and remembered during one chilly week in late August, the Park and ‘hood squirrels began burying their peanuts and not eating them on the spot. At that time, I muttered to myself “do they know something we don’t?”
Folklore tells us that the wide black bands on the Woolly Bear caterpillar I saw back on October 17th would indicate a bad Winter was in store.
When a dusting of snow on November 7th adorned porch pumpkins …
… then a record-setting 8.5-inch (22 cm) snowfall on Veteran’s Day occurred …
… I sure wished I could be like a bird or butterfly and head to warmer climes ‘til April.
Our Fall was cold, not even chilly – the trees turned color, not as vibrant as usual, yet the cold snap messed them up and my ornamental Maple has yet to drop its leaves. My neighbor’s Magnolia bush has buds and I’ve already seen crocuses, daffs, and snowdrops beginning to push their bright green heads through the still-frozen soil in homeowners’ gardens, likely due to several days when we climbed to 50 F (10 C) or above.
Winter vocabulary.
There have been countless predictions for a three-to-six-inch snowfall, resulting in an “oops” with just a dusting of snow or some icy precip. In fact, we’ve had many mornings where freezing rain has messed up my a.m. walk. When our snowfall is off the mark, the weathermen have some clever ways to explain away the deficiency. I have to laugh as they report “the snowfall was not ambitious enough” or, my favorite “this storm was a low achiever.” It sounds like a teacher’s renderings on a bad student’s report card. Also heard was “the complexion will change later today” – so now Ol’ Man Winter has become a she, or is this Mother Nature being referred to? I’m a wee bit puzzled and perplexed, but happy the Groundhog knew the scoop better than all the rest of ‘em.
With the advent of Spring, and sunrise earlier every day, I am excited about the happenings that await me in the ‘hood and Council Point Park in the upcoming months.
The joy of new life, whether it is the green leaves as they unfurl, or the baby robins’ beaks wide open for Mama Robin to drop a grub or worm bit into them, is a sight for Winter-weary souls.
And then, just like that (snapping fingers), those babies are ready to fledge.
Watching fuzzy yellow and gray goslings with their parents is a sight I never tire of.
But, in my usual mad sprint out the door every morning to my favorite go-to spot, with coat tails flying and woolen hat askew, I cannot help but think about a fellow walker named Mike Chiola.
Who is/was Mike Chiola?
There are many types of walkers, with a myriad of personalities, that frequent the perimeter path at Council Point Park. Some are eager to just get their steps done and are plugged into music while they walk. Some stare at the ground, not willing to engage in eye contact or small talk. Because the entire Park encompasses only about two miles, it is a small enough venue that most people take the time to get to know all the other walkers, even if it is just their first names. Since I’ve walked at this Park since 2013, I know almost everyone by their name and a little bit about them as well. But, I want to add that I generally walk by myself. This is not because I’m antisocial, but anyone who is there to bulk up their steps and get exercise, is not necessarily interested in stopping with me along the way while I photograph a Blue Jay swooping to the ground, or I bend down to feed Parker who sometimes gazes at me like a lovesick cow until I give him a few peanuts.
Then there are those walkers who are there to enjoy nature AND exercise.
Now that would be the category I fit in, as did Mike Chiola.
Mike Chiola walked at Council Point Park for many years. He was a former football coach at Lincoln Park High School and also functioned as a substitute teacher. I’d walk alongside Mike from time to time and our conversations ran the gamut from the good ol’ days of the 70s and 80s, to current events, sometimes politics. But, most of our conversations revolved around nature because there is lots to see there … if only you look up, down and around.
Most of the other walkers called him “Coach” but I always called him Mike. He had a few names for me too, including “The Peanut Lady” or “The Camera Lady” and occasionally he’d even call me by my name. 🙂
Mike was pretty protective of this Park. He took an early retirement after suffering a heart attack. For rehab, he began walking at Council Point Park. He walked the entire circuit (a Figure Eight loop, consisting of two miles, with each loop being approximately one mile). Every day, rain or shine, even all Winter, the first complete trip around the entire Park he picked up trash. Mike’s pet peeve was trash that Park attendees threw anywhere but the garbage cans, so Mike picked up empty water bottles, fast food and granola bar wrappers, or plastic store bags which littered the Park. When he was done, the second two miles were his to enjoy. He loved the natural setting of this Park and boy did he love the squirrels. (More on that later.)
Drop down and give me 25 (pushups)!
Mike, for all his good qualities, never lost his coach demeanor and I was often on the receiving end of a few well-meaning wisecracks through the years. In retrospect, I’ve come to realize that Mike was right about some things, and now, as I reflect back on my interactions with him, I recall one of my mom’s favorite sayings. She would recite this old proverb when I finally understood something she’d preached about in the past and I had failed to see her point right away: “we grow too soon old and too late smart.”
Many times I’d arrive at the Park breathless, staying too late at the computer to finish up just one more reply to a comment here on WordPress, then hightailing it out the door to the Park. If I passed Mike on the perimeter path, he’d quip “too bad you were so late getting here because I saw a ___________ this morning.”
Mike never said a “heron” but instead he’d say “that big bird you like to take pictures of” …
… or, he was apt to add that I’d missed those “red birds you like that sit in the trees” – well, those would be cardinals.
Mike knew the names of those birds – that was just his way. So, why did I feel like he was chastising me for my tardy behavior – furthermore, why did I care what he thought of my punctuality (or lack thereof)?
I distinctly remember this one conversation.
Mike:“Where were you this morning? The goslings were all together by the twisted tree and you could have gotten a nice picture, but they’re gone now, so too bad you weren’t around earlier.”
I thought about my retort, while smarting a little from that accusation. Plus, sheepishly I was remembering how I used to be out the door to catch the bus for work so timely that one could set their watch to my schedule – sigh, what happened to that young woman?
And, despite the fact that I was late, I did see those goslings at the twisted tree anyway!
Inwardly, I began to take the gruff demeanor with a grain of salt, feeling it was MY prerogative to set MY own schedule. Furthermore, I hated being chastised, my tardiness exposed for anyone within earshot. But, I politely just let the comments roll off my back. This time I had to explain why I always seemed to be running late these days – I was not just going to let it go.
Linda:“Mike, I was running late as I was responding to some comments on my blog.”
Mike:“A blog – what’s that?”
Linda:“Well, where do I start?”[at which time I explained as succinctly as I could what a blog was.]
Mike [after a long pause spent pondering what a blog was]: “I don’t know anything about computers, I’m not computer literate and I don’t want to be. I have a flip phone and I like it that way.”
Linda:“I have a flip phone too and I admit sometimes it is easier to be on the outside of social media as it does hog a lot of your time, but I bet you’d enjoy interacting with people.”
Mike: “I do all the interacting I want right here and down at Dingell Park.”
Such were our conversations from time to time and I jollied along to the equivalent of getting my hand slapped for missing the heron, cardinals or the goslings.
Sometimes, if I was running late, Mike would alert the other walkers to seek me out … like one time when he said “tell The Camera Lady to get over to the Creek to see the mist rising off the water – she’ll want to take a picture for that blog she has.” The message was shared and received – no missed mist opportunity for me. Thanks Mike – I got that shot.
My mind is a blank every day when I get to the Park. I absorb what is around me, do some thinking and sometimes a blog post is begun in my head, from a photo I’ve taken or something I’ve seen. I had to admit to myself that Mike was right – why was I lingering at home when I could be here? The purpose all along was to walk, then I began taking pictures … but somehow the reason for my being here was becoming an afterthought. I mused on that a bit, but no way would I tell Mike he was right! I had my pride after all. (Note to self: Linda – linger later in the day at WordPress … the comments will still be there.)
Every year, once Spring arrived, Mike would finish walking at Council Point Park, then head to Dingell Park down at the Detroit River to chat with the fishermen there. He’d scope out the nature doin’s at that venue, then give me a daily report. My blog is full of references to Mike when he told me he’d seen a Mama Mute Swan with its cygnets riding on her back, or when, just like clockwork, the Mama Mallard built a nest in the planter’s box near the boardwalk and sat on the eggs to incubate them. People would stop at the nearby restaurant and bring Mama Duck goodies so she didn’t need to leave the nest unattended. Mike would give her goodies as well. I’d go down on a weekend to scope out Mike’s “finds” for my own interest, or picture-taking for my blog – yep, I’d be toting goodies too and I got pictures of Mama Duck semi-hidden and incubating those eggs.
I never did see the cygnets going for a ride though – this year I know I will, even if I must go to Dingell Park every weekend to scope ’em out.
I wanted to reblog a particular post centering around squirrels, but I could not since this current post has pictures and is lengthy. So, if you click here you will be able to read the post in its entirety. That blog post mentions a conversation between Mike and me, not quite two years ago, where we, along with a dozen squirrels, (give or take a few), congregated at the fork where the two paths meet – it was a beautiful Spring day.
These are the featured photos from that post of Mike feeding the squirrels. On that day, once again, he challenged me … this time not for my tardiness, but why I would not tender peanuts to the squirrels like he did, hand feeding them, instead of just laying peanuts on the ground?
And here’s how that conversation played out:
Mike: “Look Linda – here is how it is done, put the peanut between your fingers and hold it out. It’s easy – watch me.”
Linda: “Mike, I need my fingers for work.”
Mike: “The squirrels aren’t going to bite your fingers off – give them some credit.”
Linda: “They might not have had breakfast or I ticked them off one time; you never know.”
Flash forward almost two years.
So, on and on it goes, and, like anyone who suddenly passes away, after that initial gut punch, you struggle to remember the good stuff. Gee, I could have eulogized Mike – I’d have regaled the mourners with his wit and touch of sarcasm, or maybe his grumpy old guy demeanor, even though he was just 70 years old at the time of his death. But, I would have concluded by saying he was a good man and a friend to all at Council Point Park (the peanut pals included).
Mike had some serious health issues the end of last year. His growing absence at the Park was evident, as was his gaunt and haggard look on the few occasions when he did show up and shuffled along the pathway, head bent, a dark gray hoodie covering his head and hanging off his slumping diminutive form. It was evident to all of us, he’d lost weight and was not speaking clearly. He stayed to himself, mumbling in monosyllables to our greetings of “how ya doin’ Mike?” We walkers compared notes saying “Mike/Coach is just not himself – did he say what was wrong?”
Collectively we worried about our friend.
And then he didn’t return anymore.
We learned through Ray, a fellow walker who went to the same barbershop as Mike, that our friend had a stroke, then oral cancer caused his tongue and part of his jaw bone to be removed. He landed in a nearby nursing home to recuperate as he lived by himself. I sent a ‘thinking of you’ card with a note, signed simply “Linda, a/k/a The Peanut Lady and The Camera Lady” – I knew he’d know who I was.
Mike eventually lapsed into a coma and passed away on February 7th. Al, one of the regular walkers, went to his funeral and advised us a memorial tree will be planted in Mike’s memory this June. I went on the obituary notice tribute wall and posted these pictures of Mike feeding the squirrels, unfortunately not the clearest shots in the world as they were taken on the fly. I wrote a message to say how Mike loved this Park and he’ll be missed.
Rest in peace Mike. I was a slow learner sometimes, but I now “get it” … so up and at ’em going forward. I’m gonna get my butt movin’ every morning and down to the Park timely and you aren’t even there to chide me about it. I’ll miss our talks … and walks.
[Photo of Mike Chiola courtesy of R.C. Aleks Funeral Home; included are some of my favorite shots from Council Point Park the past few years.]
It’s Valentine’s Day weekend, so I will squeeze in one more post for this Hallmark holiday.
I wish I could say I coined the phrase “Cuddle Alert” for those frosty and frigid mid-Winter nights here in Southeast Michigan; no, it was not my clever idea, but the trademark description belongs to a local weatherman named Chuck Gaidica.
Saturday morning, the alarm rang and I hopped out of bed, put on the radio to hear the news, then scurried back to bed and listened from under the covers where I would contemplate my day’s agenda. Nice … the wind chill was -1 F (-18 C) with an air temp of 11 F (-11 C). Those stats made it so tempting to crawl back under the covers for a few hours … or hibernate.
Decisions, decisions – do I stay home and tackle the dust bunnies, or, do I get going and take a long walk before the sun is supposed to sneak back behind the clouds at 11:00 a.m.?
Yes, of course – you’d go on a walk too, as the housework can always wait.
For Valentine’s Day I gave you CUTE; today I give YOU CCCCCCC-COLD.
Yes, this is what cold with a side of snow looks like in my part of the world. I suited up in multiple layers and while getting dressed (it took me about 15-20 minutes to do so BTW), the weatherman said it had dropped to a -4 F (-20 C) wind chill. Yikes! Add more layers? Nah – I may look like the Michelin Man in my down coat and not be able to move my arms and legs. I told myself to just get going as there are two hours of sunshine max! (Not that the sun was going to warm anything up mind you.)
My destination was Heritage Park in Taylor, a ten-mile roundtrip.
“Cuddle” alert – hmm, it looked more like a “huddle” alert to me.
My squirrel pals Parker and Grady are so cuddly looking with their soft fur and endearing looks, that you might like to pick them up, like you would a puppy or a kitten. The Mallards and Canada Geese at Coan Lake at Heritage Park won’t elicit the same feeling, but I guarantee it will melt your heart to see them huddled together on the cold ice or paddling in the frigid waters of the man-made pond known as Coan Lake. Yes, I’m a bleeding heart for these fine feathered friends congregating in one section of the lake. Unfortunately, I cannot make a panoramic shot that would show all of them, so there are many more that were not included in the header shot either.
This is what cold looks like.
On this sweetheart weekend …
… it appears no one was the object of his affection.
I always watch the waterfowl when I see them at a Park. No matter the size of the body of water, there is always one duck or goose that gets stirred up and causes a ruckus. Here this Canada Goose prepares to go into attack mode.
A split-second later, this goose was hissing at one of his counterparts. Check out that nasty face! A few chose to quietly exit the scene …
… while others got the heck out of Dodge in a real hurry! No worries – everyone was fine and they only flew to the other side of Coan Lake – look how they churned up the water during their mass exodus!
A heart-smart hike focusing on red, the color for February.
After taking a ton of shots of the geese and ducks on or around the ice, it was time to move on. I decided to keep with the February heart theme and take pictures of red items around Heritage Park – this was easy to do as you’ll see in the below shots of the Taylor Conservatory and Botanical Gardens and Petting Farm which are on the fringe of this Park.
First the Gardens.
I had a bit of a hike from the historical area of Heritage Park to get to the Botanical Gardens.
First, I had to pass the Community Gardens, where you may recall that people buy garden plots to grow flowers or fruits and veggies and a good portion of the Community Gardens are planted and tended to by prisoner detail and that food is donated to the Fish & Loaves Food Pantry. The Community Gardens look a little desolate, but the evergreen roping, wreathes and festive bows add a touch of color to the blah landscape.
Then, after hiking the length of those Gardens and a large, snow-covered grassy area, I arrived at the Botanical Gardens. I last visited this venue on a hot and humid September morn while in search of hummingbirds. I’ve visited here often in the Summertime – it is a delight to walk through and the volunteers are all friendly and knowledgeable. This was my first Winter visit and I wanted to photograph THE HEART and I think I picked the perfect weekend to do so.
Winter does not do the heart garden justice – you must imagine the beauty of blooms planted at the base of the dedication plaque and for special occasions, the heart is lit up.
I moved along over to the main structure which looked a little barren without all its flower adornments.
Scattered around the pavilion area were potted flowers that have survived the cold weather, pelting wintry precip and I was in awe of these pretty red flowers tucked among the evergreens and their delicate beauty on this frosty February day.
Now onto the other touches of red around this Park.
If you’ve followed this blog for a while, you’ll recognize the big red barn of the Heritage Park Petting Farm. I am a little bummed that they leveled the decrepit red barn that was badly in need of a paint job, boarded up with a multitude of old signs and always seemed like a stiff breeze would blow it down. A white fence was around the barn with a huge lilac bush and it was very picturesque in the Springtime. But all these photo ops have vanished and the City is building sheds to accommodate Park maintenance equipment. The new structures will be built to resemble the barns to keep with the Park’s quaint look.
No trek around Heritage Park would be complete without taking a photo of the little red schoolhouse, especially with a snowy background. Check out the evergreen tree that is listing to one side. (Note to self – don’t walk too close to it.)
My last stop on my brutally cold trek was at the red wooden Fitz caboose and accompanying boxcar.
The sun was fading fast as I snapped this photo; if my frozen fingers could speak, they would have said “no more pictures please!” Even with two pair of gloves on, it was no match for the brutal cold, so I called it a day at Heritage Park. I made a brief pit stop at Council Point Park to leave peanuts on the table for the squirrels, as I didn’t see any out and about, then headed home, ready to wrap my frozen fingers around a large cup of coffee. When I returned home, no pleading faces awaited me and I saw none of the squirrels who hang out at the house had eaten their peanuts … feel their foreheads? No, it was just that cold!
I figured it was the perfect opportunity for another installment of “A Girl and Her Squirrel” – oh, I know I have inundated you with more posts than usual lately, and some were really long, with lots of words and pictures. So, since brevity is the soul of wit, it’s time to let the photos (and Parker) do the talking.
These pictures were taken on February 3rd after my walk. Parker was a real sweetie and I was lucky that he seized the opportunity to grab one of these big, heart-shaped cookies I took to the Park, hoping to get a cute shot or two of him or the others.
I placed some cookies on the picnic table near the inspirational graffiti, then sweetened the pot by scattering a few peanuts around as well. There was a large dog running around the Park that morning and all the squirrels had scurried up the trees, so I left a big pile of peanuts on the picnic table where they could access them after I was gone.
Parker was fearless and the only squirrel to discover the cache of treats, as you’ll see below:
“Cool! Linda brought peanuts AND sugar cookies. Wow are they big!”
“I’ll take this cookie to the ground so no one else sees me, ‘cuz all these goodies are just for me, me, me!”
“Linda will want to take my picture, so I’ll turn the red sugar side toward her so I’ll be especially photogenic.”
“BTW – that’s why I get the best treats, ‘cuz I’m smart; Linda’s a pushover when it comes to me.”
[Looking around] … “Hmm, looks like I’m still the only one here, so I’m not telling the other squirrels because ya snooze, ya lose!”
“Gee, I’m getting full – good thing I didn’t eat peanuts first!”
“Mama always said ‘don’t let your eyes be bigger than your stomach Parker’ so I buried the rest of my cookie and went back for peanuts.”
Not everyone is a cookie monster. I left a few heart-shaped cookies for the “house squirrels” and they were not interested in the least (while I was there anyway, because the next morning they were all gone).
Happy Valentine’s Day to you and those who make you smile!
Well I couldn’t resist doing a quick post about today’s somewhat amusing event with my corded landline phone. I thought it was especially relevant in lieu of yesterday’s post touting technology in the workplace. This is a tale about tech in MY workplace, a/k/a the kitchen table, where I’ve parked myself since I began working from home.
Now, I may be handy with computers, but phones and their technology, not so much. In fact, I concede I am truly not much of a gadgets-and-gizmos kind of gal at all. I hate to read manuals and often scour YouTube to watch an abridged version of a lengthy how-to manual.
My kitchen table ceased being a place to dine many years ago. I have a Dictaphone, a speakerphone, smaller phone, radio, gooseneck lamp and my laptop placed around the table. This is my “office” – we’re not talking anything fancy here. I like the speakerphone which comes in handy when I need to troubleshoot computer problems at work with our IT guy, or checking voicemail and transcribing messages for my boss when he is out of the office on vacation or business. On occasion my boss will call in some dictation, so I put him on the speakerphone. About a month ago, he called and there was massive static on the line and we had to hang up. It lasted a few days and went away.
Yesterday he called me at 4:00 p.m. and we chatted briefly. About 6:00-ish, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the small phone had a red flashing light and the speakerphone’s caller I.D. read “line in use” – sigh, both were red flags for a dead phone, so I picked up the receiver and there was no dial tone.
I realized I had to contact AT&T to alert them my landline was kaput. I am likely the only person in the neighborhood with an AT&T landline. Most folks are on an internet provider bundle or use their cellphones. So, I was probably the only person with a complaint.
Creating a repair ticket at AT&T’s website was interesting. First, you must give an alternate phone number for an AT&T tech to contact you. No problem, that would be my cellphone. I have a cellphone which I carry with me while outside the house, but I never use it – it is just for emergency purposes only and I also have OnStar in my car, so if I end up in dire straits while driving, I push the blue OnStar button, or use the cellphone to call the Auto Club number.
Long story short – I NEVER use my cellphone and I never call myself, so I had to go find my cellphone number from my annual loading of minutes bill to put the contact info into the repair ticket.
Next, a brief description of the problem was needed. Well, brevity is not my strong point, as you all know, so trying to condense my issue of static and no dial tone into just a few characters had me being creative – “dead phone” and “I work from home” seemed to work best.
I got the repair ticket completed, pressed submit and received a confirmation a few minutes later. I waited an hour or so, and, with the phone still dead as a doornail, I hopped onto the AT&T website to check the phone repair status. I typed my logon/password to access my account, then went to the status area and needed to use the same logon/password and was told my password was wrong. (I used it just a few seconds before … just sayin’.)
Finally, I figured out a workaround and my phone was already being tested – “great” I thought, I don’t have to stay home for the repairman on this last sunny and dry day before tonight’s three-to-six-inch snowfall. Sadly, the phone was dead when I went to bed and when I got up as well.
This morning I turned my cellphone on to await the call and was filled with some trepidation, having never taken a call on this phone. It is different than my last phone and I had to buy this one when AT&T no longer supported the 2G phone I had for 15 years. This time the password worked and as of 7:05 a.m., a tech was “on it” meaning I was still hopeful for a walk. Then the cellphone rang and I hurried to answer it … two rings and it went to voicemail. Oh no, I never tackled the cellphone voicemail before, but I managed to push all the right buttons and discovered a typed voicemail message (not a text) that the tech was on his way and would see me shortly.
He arrived, we chatted and he said he would try multiple fixes before coming inside to repair the phone port, to ensure it was AT&T’s issue, not mine. This necessitated checking the box behind the house and two places where the phone equipment is housed. I heard him leave in the truck and return twice. He was walking around on the roof which annoyed the neighborhood dogs. Finally, the phone stopped blinking and I picked up the receiver and there was a dial tone.
He soon knocked on the front door with a big smile on his face. “Ma’am, your phone should be working now” he said and I replied “yep, I saw the light go off and tested it – so what was the problem?”
“Squirrels – they are my best customers, as they like to chew the insulation on the wire, so the torn coating allows moisture to get in and damages the phone wire. You are not the only one to have this happen, believe me!” I laughed and said “many years ago my boss had a fax machine in his home office and AT&T had to bury the phone cable because they were out three times for chewed wire repairs.” I continued, saying “I want you to know the peanut shells you see scattered on the sidewalk are from me. I feed those little buggers every day and they do this to me? I must have fed them late one time and my tardiness was not up to their standards (or they were very hungry) and tried to eat the wires!” He laughed out loud at that. I continued, saying “at least you didn’t have to climb and crawl all over in the snow – good thing it was today.” Another big smile and he said “it’s all in a day’s work Ma’am – no worries” and then he left.
Thank goodness my outside internet cable is a very heavy wire because internet interruptions are not great when working from home. Good thing I have a forgiving nature with my furry friends that I feed here at the house, but I’ll warn them to cease and desist! After all, I wouldn’t want all the robocallers to get a busy signal when they bug me, which is pretty much ALL DAY LONG, despite having put the number on the Do Not Call Registry back in 2003.
So, my day was a little squirrelly – how about yours?
In 2019 our country celebrated the 50th anniversary of several historical and significant dates: the moon landing, the Woodstock Music and Art Festival and 50 years of being amused by the cast of characters from Sesame Street. We even looked back wistfully at the last time the Fab Four played together live on the rooftop of Apple Records some five decades ago.
This year we’ll give the nod to those feisty broads, a/k/a the Suffragettes, who aided in the passage of the 19th Amendment giving women the right to vote – 2020 marks the 100th anniversary of that feat.
This is not going to be a political post – no rants or raves. As many/most of you know, I’m a Canadian citizen, living over here since 1966, so I’m not voting, even in the local election. The only time I vote is for those little polls y’all have in your blog posts, or when WordPress asks if their Happiness Engineer gets a thumbs up or thumbs down.
So why did I go searching for suffragettes’ pictures on Pinterest?
And why did I use this blog title, which was the theme song from the popular Virginia Slims skinny cigarette ads so many years ago? The commercials were vintage themed and geared to show how women gained the right to vote and smoke – I thought they were very clever. Take a peek here and be prepared to end up with an earworm. And, while we are discussing dates, we have not heard any cigarette commercials since December 31, 1970, when Virginia Slims aired the very last cigarette commercial on network TV, at which time all cigarette commercials were banned from radio and TV.
Milestones.
I, too, have come a long way – even though I’ve never marched to get the right to vote or be permitted to smoke a cigarette in public.
Today I am celebrating two significant anniversaries … so break out the cake!
First … it’s my 7th Blogiversary.
Yes, I have been blogging since 2013 and this will be post #1,415 – who knew I had so much to say?
My posts weren’t always as long and full of photos as they are now. In fact, during the course of these past seven years, my blog has morphed from one-paragraph posts with a single-word title and no photo (or an image purchased from “Dollar Photo”), to posts so long and picture-laden that I have fallen asleep proofreading them. 🙂
“Walkin’, Writin’, Wit & Whimsy” has become my labor of love and I am having great fun with it, especially with my renewed interest in photography. The blog posts are a great way to write about the ordinary and extraordinary nature I encounter on my walks. I sometimes think I should rename my blog “Simple Joys” for my morning meanders bring me such peace and pleasure.
Today is National Make a Friend Day (#NationalMakeAFriendDay) and it is no coincidence that fellow bloggers and friends in this forum have been a blessing. One might think the blogosphere is large and intimidating, but, in fact, the blogging community is small, and interacting with all of you, and my e-mail subscribers, has been very fulfilling to me.
But wait, there is another anniversary ….
It’s my 40th year as a legal secretary.
Forty years ago today, I began my career as a legal secretary, after spending 18 months in an ad agency, hoping to advance from a Creative Department secretary to a junior copywriter position. It would have been super to parlay that print journalism degree into such a dream job, but that didn’t work out since we lost our major account and my mentor went to another ad agency, leaving me behind.
So here I am, forty years later, in a job that has taken me on a long journey with technology twists and turns aplenty during those four decades.
Ponder this: can you imagine a day in your business or personal life without e-mail or voicemail? Well, those niceties didn’t exist circa 1980. And, while I didn’t use a mimeograph machine with purple ink to make copies, (no I’m not quite that old), I used a fax machine that you wound up like a Victrola. It smelled like rubber tires burning and its dial tones beeped and screeched when a fax was sending or receiving.
I began my career typing on a non-correcting IBM Selectric typewriter, often using carbon paper; (believe me, you learned how to type with great precision, or forever be fixing your boo-boos). I then graduated to a self-correcting Selectric typewriter and finally to an IBM Wheelwriter typewriter, with storage capability for phrases and addresses. Imagine doing a lengthy appellate brief with many footnotes and gauging how much space to leave at the bottom of each page for those references – it was a nightmare! Or, how about retyping an entire letter because your boss wanted to change one word? Grrr. Now word processing is something all legal secretaries just take for granted.
The technology aspect alone has made law firm life much easier – important documents once sent via overnight courier are simply sent as a PDF accompanying an e-mail. Voicemail eliminates the need to be tied to the phone or paged incessantly the very moment you stepped away from your desk. Even the fax machine is becoming obsolete due to e-mail/PDFs and now document productions are transmitted between client and their attorney or to opposing counsel courtesy of Dropbox. No more stuffing thousands of pages into boxes and shipping them out.
As to work, it’s been a long and sometimes onerous journey and now I don’t even deal with most of those administrative rigors of office life since I’ve not worked on site since 2009.
Now that I’ve waxed nostalgic about work and play, there will be many more posts coming down the pipe as my computer photo file is still groaning with recent trek pics as well as some taken last Summer and the accompanying posts are bubbling around in my brain as time marches on.
Linda Schaub
WALKIN', WRITIN', WIT & WHIMSY 