Journal: Squirrel Watching & A Drive to Grand Island

 

Last Monday, Hannah sent pictures of pelicans, cormorants, and coots at Lake North, reblooming lilacs in Loup Park by Lake Babcock, and, as a bonus, Chimera and Willow squirrel-watching, just for good measure.

When I was little, we had to travel quite a distance to the east to see much color in the fall.  Nowadays, because of all the pretty trees and bushes people have planted, we can top a hill outside of town, and the whole valley looks like a colorful forest, in scarlets and oranges and bright yellows and all shades of green.

There are even Tiger Eyes sumac in our neighborhoods now.

This time of year, there are hundreds of little American Coots on nearby lakes.  Before we knew better, we called them “Mud Ducks”.

But American Coots (Fulica americana) are not ducks at all.  They belong to the family Rallidae, making them a species of Rail, rather than the duck family Anatidae.  Instead of webbed feet, they have broad, lobed scales on their toes that help them walk on mud and swim.  People also refer to them as ‘water chickens’.

Coots tend to lean forward when they paddle, like a toddler trying to make his trike go lickety-split.

It was chilly and damp midmorning Tuesday, just 43°.  The high would be 53°.  

One of the newscasters on the Rural Radio was giving a list of favorite candy this time of year.  It varies from location to location through the States.  Nebraska’s favorite, it seems is Peanut M&Ms.  

I wonder if the newscaster knows where Peanut M&Ms are best stored?

I cleaned the kitchen, then headed upstairs to my quilting studio to work on the Dresden Flowers & Flutters quilt.  I’m so happy my Avanté is working well!  It’s working even better than before the ruler mishap, as it wasn’t timed quite right the last time it was done.

Look at this picture of Baby Russell Victoria sent.  That’s the same funny little sideways grimace his big sisters Carolyn and Violet used to do at about that age, three or four months.

Here’s Carolyn at just about the same age, when Kurt and Victoria were in a big mall somewhere with her.  They (or Victoria, most likely) decided they needed a selfie.  So there they are, grinning at the camera, and down in the bottom corner of the picture is Baby Carolyn, grimacing:  “Oh, brother.  These parents of mine.”

Almost exactly a year later, there’s Violet with the same expression:  “Oh, brother; here we go again with the camera,” while Carolyn leans back and looks at her, as if to say, “What in the world kind of a face is that?!”

Whataya bet their Mama makes that face?  Babies are such little copycats...

It was overcast all day.  The damp weather has turned everything quite green, except for the leaves that are changing color.  The Black Locust tree outside the east window of my quilting studio is a brilliant yellow.

By the time I quit quilting for the night, I’d made it to the one-third mark of Keira’s quilt.

It was a little warmer Wednesday than it was the previous day, getting up to 68°, with the sun peeking through the clouds now and then.  After the usual morning activities, I popped the shower curtains into the washing machine, and then got back to the quilting.

After church that evening, we had venison vegetable pasta soup – the stuff I made a month or so ago, freezing enough for four meals.  It was just as good as when it was freshly made.

Thursday, I went to the Bernina Store in Grand Island to pick up my serger.  It’s a 70-mile drive.  The serger has been there for a couple of months, because first the owner/tech was busily involved with the Nebraska State Fair, and second, he had to order parts, which were a bit hard to find, since my machine is about 15 years old or so.

I’d sat down to repair a sweater with that serger – and it was totally locked up and wouldn’t move.  I cleaned it, oiled it, tried the handwheel – but it wouldn’t budge.  It turns out, the knives had gotten moved into the wrong position, and then when I stepped on the pedal to make it go, it bent the loopers.  I don’t know how this happened, and I’ve worked diligently to figure out who to blame; but no one but me has ever touched that thing.  There aren’t even any cats around to blame anymore.  Sigghhh...

I do know that one of the last times I used it, I flipped the top knife out of the way (one presses a button that releases it, and then it can be rotated) in order to serge without trimming.  The bottom knife is moved by turning a knob, small clicks at a time.  That knob had been turned too far, and when the top knife was flipped back into place, the knives didn’t line up correctly.  All these years I’ve had that machine, and I had no idea that could happen!  That’s the trouble with not using it very often, I guess.

It was a nice day for a drive, getting up to a high of 64° in the afternoon, and bright and sunny.  I’d thought to stop by Pier Park, as the lake is often full of waterfowl.  Here’s a photo of a Wood Duck I took there a couple of years ago, along with the small replica of the Statue of Liberty. It’s not a very big park, but it’s always pretty, even in the wintertime.

It was so funny to see the male Wood Ducks chasing other males away from ‘their’ female, with a whole lot of quacking and pulling tail feathers of the offending males.  Even the big Canada Geese ‘turned aside to see this great sight’.

Wood Ducks form pair bonds each year during late winter and early spring, choosing a new mate every breeding season.  The male provides zero assistance with incubating the eggs or rearing the hatched ducklings.

Nesting season was well over by the time I took these pictures on September 28, 2024, so the fuss had to be new courting displays.  From The Birders’ Report:  “Interestingly, Wood Ducks begin the process all over again remarkably early.  Courtship displays and new pair formations for the following year’s breeding season actually start up in the autumn, as early as September or October, while they are on their wintering grounds.”

On the west side of Grand Island, I saw a Great Blue Heron take off from a pond beside the road – and fly right up in front of a big truck!  Realizing its error, it put on a burst of speed and flew straight upwards and then back the way it had come.  But wheweee, that was a close call.

I’ll bet the truck driver was ducking like mad.  Those birds are big enough, they could come right through a windshield – and that’s where truck and bird would’ve collided, had the heron not shot upwards at such a clip.  They’re faster than you think they could be; they look big and awkward, with their long necks curving out before them, and their long legs dangling along behind them.  And if you think they look funny, you should hear the sounds they make!

Hannah described it this way:  “It sounds like a goose with someone’s hands around its neck, while other times it sounds like a pig grunting.”  😄

I also saw at least three, possibly four, bald eagles.  I’m not sure about the fourth, as it had mostly dark feathers.  I think it was a juvenile eagle, as it was the right size and shape, and there were adults in the vicinity.

It was a pretty day, with the sky bright blue, and reflecting in the rivers and lakes.  This is the Loup Canal, and below is the Loup River.  It’s shallow in many areas, but has numerous unexpected deep spots, and quicksand, too.

I didn’t go to Pier Park after all.  The Bernina Store is in the north part of the city, and Pier Park is in the south, and I arrived right at rush hour.  Definition of ‘rush hour’:  when nobody can at all rush anywhere.

But that’s okay; I still took 157 pictures and one video.  😏

Out in the Nebraska boonies, there are random picnic tables and chairs scattered here and there in unexpected places, where anyone might take a notion to have a seat and watch the butterflies flitting and the corn growing.  Nobody’s going to steal thet thar chair, either, because bindweed (aka Wild Morning Glory) has trailed vines all over it and effectively glued it smack down to the earth good and proper.

There are random picnic tables right in the middle of Grand Island, too, on street corners and other places.  There are even garbage cans by some of them, so you can sit down with your fast food, eat, and discard your trash afterwards.  😄

By the time I got home, I was half starved half to death, so I had a snack of cheese, corn chips, and mango juice, and put some giant sweet potatoes into the Instant Pot.  I edited pictures while I waited for the sweet potatoes to get done.  I like them slathered with butter, and with a bit of brown sugar sprinkled on top.  Maybe even two bits.  😉

The farmer who lives at this farm must’ve been deprived of Fisher Price Shape Sorters & Stackers as a child, as he has no idea how to properly stack his hay bales.  Or maybe he had a new forklift, and was playing Spin and Toss with it.

Victoria’s dishwasher went kaput.  She replaced it – with a designated coffee and tea cart.  She is unconcerned with the lack of a dishwasher, since hers didn’t work all that great anyway, and they practically had to wash each dish before putting them into the dishwasher already.

I had a dishwasher from the time I was married until we moved out here, 23 ½ years ago.  Here, there’s no room for one.

Years ago, we had one that came with the house (our previous house).  It expired a few years later, gasket first.

Someone would walk into the kitchen, come to a splooshing stop, and cry, “Somebody bring some towels!”

One evening after church, Teddy headed in there for a snack.  We heard some sloshing and splashing, an exclamation, and then Teddy yelled, “Somebody bring an airboat!” 😂

Victoria’s kitchen, while not at all huge, is bigger than any kitchen I’ve ever had.  I tell you, I’ve coped with submarine galleys.

And y’all know I have a penchant for Large Projects.

Once I was making pumpkin pies.  I decided 32 would be about the right number, judging from the pumpkins people had generously given us.

I cooked pumpkin.  I puréed pumpkin.  I stirred pots and pans full of pumpkin pie mixture on the stove.

And then, because I was making pumpkin chiffon pie, that first mixture needed to be cooled before the combined egg whites and sugar was added.

So... I put a whole lot of pots and pans full of the cooked pumpkin mix into the tub, which I’d filled with cold water.

And then the kids came home from school.

One of them went into the bathroom.  There was dead silence for a moment, and then whoever-it-was screeched with laughter, and kept laughing the entire time he or she was in there.

Soon the pumpkin mixture was cool enough to add the egg-whites mixture.  Add it too soon, and you wind up with cooked strings of egg whites floating around in your otherwise-smooth pumpkin pie!  😜

Having already pulled out every pie plate, cake pan, casserole dish, and shallow broiler pan I owned, I began carefully filling them and then sliding them into the refrigerator so they could set up.  Larger pans could rest on smaller pans, and I also used cookie sheets to create more levels for pies.

But there was no way that that whole volley of pumpkin pies was going to fit in the refrigerator.  So I called one after the other of the people I’d made them for and asked, “Can I borrow your refrigerator?”

>>crickets<<

Then I explained, adding, “We’ll bring the Cool Whip, too!”

Near as I could tell, everyone was pleased to get a pie, even if they did laugh.  Somehow, I have no idea how, we managed to get those pies to recipients all over town without spilling a drop of unset pumpkin pie.

Friday was an overcast day, and the temperature only got up to 60°.  Here’s a fact:  Great Value pre-ground Pumpkin Spice coffee cannot hold a candle to any flavor, any flavor at all, of either Christopher Bean or Aroma Ridge or Amana whole beans.  I decided my tumblerful of cold-brew coffee was cryin’ for some creamer.

I poured in a couple of gloop-gloops of Italian Sweet Créme Coffee Mate.

((...sip...))

Ahhhh.  Much better.

I spent the majority of that day quilting.  I’m using a whole lot of different colors and kinds of thread.

It was Kurt and Victoria’s tenth anniversary that day, October 30^th.  We gave them 2023 and 2024 cookbooks from the Nebraska State Fair.

By suppertime, I’d made it to the halfway point in the quilting of the Dresden Flowers & Flutters quilt.

Later, I headed to my recliner.  I looked at a few VIVs (Very Interesting Videos), such as emus frolicking all over their pasture, and then accidentally came upon one that explained what I have been doing all these years when I’m up after everyone else has gone to bed:  I’m conducting RBP – Revenge Bedtime Procrastination.  I’m reclaiming the hours the world took from me during the day!

Oops.  Now they tell me that I evolved from ancestors who survived because people like me kept watch.  🙄  Well, that’s wrong, right there.  People like me would’ve let the rest of the tribe get eaten by dinosaurs, out of sheer devilment.

So there.

At 11:00 a.m. Saturday, it was 59° and rainy.  I put sheets and blankets into the washing machine, then made myself a tumblerful of Pumpkin Spice cold-brew coffee.  It was better than the last mugful, because I watered it down more.  My cold-brew jug always dispenses the strongest brew first.  Seems like that’s backwards, and it would be stronger after it continues to steep in the refrigerator a few more days.  But... it’s always strongest first.

There were Dark-Eyed Juncos all over the yard, looking sharp in their little tuxedos. They’re such fun to watch, the way they leap forward and scrape backwards with both feet at once to pull leaves and grasses back in their search for little seeds and maybe even a bug or two.  They’ve migrated all the way from Canada, the Northwest Territories, and Alaska, and they’ll stick around until late Spring next year.

One month ago, on October 1, 10,026,100 birds migrated overnight.  Friday night, only 190,800 birds crossed Platte County.  Migration is slowing.

I quilted for several hours that day.  

By 5:00 p.m., it was starting to get dark.  It was Halloween night, but we don’t have Trick-or-Treaters out here in the country.  I keep the porch light off so nobody gets the notion we’re open for doling out Halloween candy, as I didn’t have a solitary thing to give them.  Besides, Halloween has gone from masquerading as a somewhat harmless little kids’ holiday (where they can be rude and demand candy from strangers, heh) to the nasty ‘Hallowed Eve’ it’s really been all along, with people doing all sorts of dreadful things.

One time when we lived in town, a big teenaged boy decided to wreck our children’s pumpkins on Halloween.  But the trouble was, we’d carved them early on, and then there were warm days and cold nights, which caused the pumpkins to rot from the inside out, so it was hard to tell there was anything wrong with them.  The kid kicked the biggest pumpkin — and wound up with the gooey, gishy thing stuck to his foot and halfway up his leg. He danced around, kicking and trying to get it off, and even falling down a couple of times.  

We came upon this spectacle when we rounded the corner in our Suburban on our way home from somewhere.  We slowed down, pulled over to the side of the street, and watched.  By the time the kid finally pulled the pumpkin off his foot and went on his way, trying to wipe the goo from his hands off on his jeans, we were laughing ’til the tears ran down our faces.

By 7:30 p.m., my feet were grumbling, as I’d been standing on them without a break since a little before 2:00 p.m.  I quit for the day and went to fix supper.

I’d finished another row.  The next time I roll this quilt forward, the tops of the picket fence will be showing! 

We picked up groceries at Walmart last night after the evening church service.  After getting home, I baked some Alaskan salmon and warmed up the last of the frozen venison vegetable pasta soup.  We had peach pie with extra-creamy Cool Whip for dessert.

At ten after seven this morning, I was awoken by loud bangs from the far reaches of the back yard – Larry was out there pounding on something.  It didn’t seem like he was planning to stop that horrendous racket anytime soon, either.

I jumped out of bed, put on my glasses, grabbed my phone, and called to inform him it was waaay too early for him to be making all that commotion.  Good grief.  (He can blame it on his hearing loss all he wants, and say he didn’t know it was so loud; but he’s created rackets at unearthly hours ever since we lived on 17^th Street.)

Deciding it was too early for me to get up, since, after all, I’d been employing Revenge Bedtime Procrastination until quite late the previous night, I went back to bed for another hour.  Besides, the wind had awoken me a few times during the night, too.

It was mostly cloudy and quite windy through the day, getting up to 71° this afternoon.  It would likely be raining by late afternoon, so my weather apps said.

I shined up the bathroom, played the piano, and made myself a mug of Pumpkin Spice cold-brew coffee.  Someone keeps refilling the jug in the refrigerator overnight, I think!  I will not buy cheap, pre-ground coffee again.  I will not buy cheap, pre-ground coffee again.  I will not buy cheap, pre-ground coffee again.

I cleaned the kitchen, read some online news, and scrolled down to the comments.

They did not disappoint.

One person announced that the Lear jet that had that awful crash in Palm Beach, Florida, yesterday wasn’t a plane at all, as there were no parts strewn about the crash site.  (There were; but they were very small, as the plane had hit the ground at a high rate of speed, and the fuel tanks had exploded into a huge ball of fire immediately thereafter.)

Someone else promptly retorted, “Your a Moran.”

The next person corrected that one:  “ *You’re a moron.  If you’re gonna call someone stupid, try not to look stupid yourself.”

Another one added his weight to the takedown:  “I’d refrain from calling someone a moron in a three-word sentence, while you misspell two of the three.”

A fourth person demanded, “How do you know he’s Irish????  (Moran is an anglicized form of the Irish Gaelic surname Ó Móráin.)  For all you know, he may be a McGillicuddy.”

It started pouring rain around a quarter ’til five, and the wind was blowing hard.  This continued for about 45 minutes before calming considerably.

I popped some lasagna into the oven, and soon the house smelled so good, it was making my mouth water.  I made it the easy way – with Stouffer’s Italiano frozen lasagna.  It takes about an hour and 15 minutes to bake, and it’s a good brand that tastes almost homemade.  There’s one particular spice in it I don’t care for, though.  Next time, I’ll get another brand, and we’ll give it a try.

,,,>^..^<,,,          Sarah Lynn          ,,,>^..^<,,,