Bird Feeding

As my wife is a bit under the weather so to speak I decided to feed her friendly flock of wild birds so I stuck on a cap and vest that was hanging on the wall.  Then, as she often does, she asked why I wore that vest instead of another vest.  After about two or three minutes of argument I finally convinced her the simple reason was that the one I had chosen was the first one I came to, and it was fine.  Then I donned my gloves and made it out the door as she yammered on about why was I going out in the first place?  I quietly closed the door leaving her to argue with herself about that one.

I then proceeded to the birdfeed container, and scooped out some for the pan on the porch, and tossed some over the side of the porch for those little feathered friends that like to eat on the ground.  Turning back to the feed storage can I scooped an entire pitcher full for the middle of the yard where the critters like to gorge themselves.  I carefully proceeded down the steps, knowing it was probably yet slippery even though there was snow on the ground.  Often a layer of snow on top of an ice base is even slipperier than without the snow.  The snow helps to lubricate the ice in case it’s not slippery enough to start with.  I got down the steps, and across the cement block at the foot of them.  I then proceeded across the downhill part  of the lawn as you leave the cement part.  All was well and good as I took little baby steps across that part keeping my upper body well balanced above my feet.

As I left the downhill section and started across the flat part, all of a sudden I was on the ground on my back.  For a couple of seconds I didn’t sort of know what had happened.  Then it came to me I had fallen, but I seemed dazed a bit.  I couldn’t remember how to get back up on my feet again.  I decided if I rolled over on my stomach that would help so I did that, but I didn’t seem to have strength enough to rise back up, and I was yet sort of dazed, and not too sure what I was doing.  Then I heard the door open and knew I should get up or the usual feeder of those little bustards would have a hissy fit.  Right then and there I was getting back to normal, ready to argue no matter what she said.  So I stood and proceeded to pick up the bird seed that hadn’t spilled and continued on to feed those dirty rotten vultures in the middle of the lawn.

Yeah, I’m okay, and how was your day?

Oliver Lawton's Farm

Peter Warren was born in Dublin, Ireland in 1703.  By 1744 he was in command of a 16 ship squadron of the English Royal Navy.  He had become a wealthy man.  Using some of that wealth he purchased thousands of acres of land along the Mohawk River in central New York in the colonies in 1738.  Peter hired his nephew William Johnson, born in 1715, to manage his property.

 

William sold farms to settlers, and then opened a store to sell goods to those farmers.  He also began dealing as a fur trader which earned him vast sums of money.  William took Molly, sister of Mohawk Chief Joseph Brant, as his common law wife giving him special status with the tribe.  In 1746 he became Britain’s Manager of Indian Affairs.  That same year he was awarded a Chieftainship in the Mohawk Nation.

 

In 1760 he was “given” 66,000 acres of land by the Mohawks.  He reciprocated with a gift of $24,000 and some trade goods.  In 1763 a Royal Proclamation forbid individuals from purchasing Indian lands.  William applied for a special confirmation stating he had not purchased his land, but that it was given to him, which was approved in 1769.  His land then became known as the Royal Grant.  In 1775 William died leaving the bulk of his estate to his son James.

 

The next year the Revolutionary War began, and James made the decision to side with the British, rather than the upstart rebels.  After the war the heavily in war debt New York State confiscated William’s lands and began to sell the first allotment of them at public auction in 1784.  They were all sold by 1789 at which time a second allotment was offered.  Oliver Lawton of Rhode Island purchased 500 acres as the first lot, located in what became Herkimer County, of that second allotment.

Keep Refrigerated

While pouring a glass of milk yesterday I noted it said on the carton to "keep refrigerated."

Not wanting to break some law or something I decided this morning to obey the message. I removed all of the shelves in the refrigerator, which entailed removing all of the food items which I placed on the kitchen counter. The milk was on a door shelf so it remained in place.

I then climbed into the empty space to pour my milk without removing it from the fridge. I told my wife I would tell her when I wanted to get back out.

So who knew it was dark in there? Did you realize the little light goes out when you close the door? By feel I got the milk carton and my glass more or less lined up and poured milk in my lap.

I then asked the wife to let me out, but she said later she never heard me say anything. So who knew you couldn't hear through a closed refrigerator door, or is it possible she has selective hearing which only works part time?

Fortunately, after a while, she didn't want her Pepsi sitting on the counter to get warm so she opened the door and I was able to shiver my way back to the kitchen table.

I am now still shivering, eating dry cornflakes, while the little woman with all her wisdom is inquiring if my pants are wet because I was afraid of the dark?

To hell with it, tomorrow the milk is going to be on the table.

How I "spent" my day

Over the past few days my jaw became all swollen and it hurt like hell so my daughter got me an appointment with the dentist as I thought I needed some teeth yanked out.  When I got to the office Huldah sat me in a sort of leatherette chaise lounge chair, left, and stayed gone for about a half hour.  When she returned she asked how I was doing?  I told her not overly well, my teeth hurt.  She told me I needed an Xray.  She led me to a torture room where she placed me standing with my head on a plate and a stick in my mouth wearing a heavy coat.  She told me to hang in there while this machine sent a pot whirling around my head a time or two.  Okay, enough of that shit.  I was getting dizzy, so they took me back to my lounge chair.

She said, “We’re going to have to pull those teeth.”

I said, “Well that’s what I come for.”

After some more time passed along came this guy in a little brown coat.  He told me he was going to have to pull them teeth.  I decided I was finally getting through to them now.  “However,” he said, “I’ve got to get an impression first.”

I’m thinking that his impression was that he was going to pull the teeth, but instead he had Huldah the Hun (he called her Hun a lot) mix up a batch of some really crazy pudding.  She got out this funny looking cup thingy and put large gobs of the stuff in it, and then put some more in a squeeze tube.  She told me to open wide, and durned if she didn’t start squirting that stuff around inside my mouth like I couldn’t eat by myself.  When she got done with that she stuffed that entire cupful, cup and all in my mouth and told me not to talk for a while.  Now having two cups of pudding stuffed into a one-cup space is not entirely fun you might guess, but she did it, and let me tell you talk was out of the question.  After an eternity she pulled that entire mess out in one glob.  Whew!

As if that wasn’t enough, she began mixing up another batch of that pudding.  Same routine, except this time she did the roof of my mouth, and told me to breathe through my nose.  I sure as hell was not going to breathe any other way except maybe through a tracheal tube.  When she finally pulled that glob out it was like the first one, all turned into a rubbery mass, and completely ruined as far as having a snack.  Huldah and brown suit looked it over and said that was enough, and they kicked me out the door, after I paid $350 for the pudding.  As I left they told me to come back in about three weeks and they’d pull some teeth.  I hope it’s cheaper than that damned pudding I never did get to eat.

Do you see that old tree?  I placed it right in the center to draw your attention to it.  I believe it is a White Pine, a species that lives for hundreds of years.  This one is quite obviously an aged specimen, and probably was fully grown when the first Europeans arrived in the New World.

It reminds me of myself and mortality.  Although it yet stands straight and tall, one can easily note the loss of strength as branches, like muscles, die.  In its elderly state, the top has thinned leaving a rather bony appearance.  Time has taken its toll, and its demise is inevitable.  No man, no living, nor inanimate, object is impervious to time and the ravages of nature.  Trees come and trees go, as does mankind.

I was out and about riding my old Kawasaki ATV when I found myself at an old abandoned gravel pit.  Apparently all of the usable gravel has been removed, and it hasn't been touched in years now.  I roamed around among the vast deep pits, filled with water, like a tourist seeing the sights.
After a while I found a small ditch through which water ran off from the surrounding area into one of the pits.  At some time in the past someone had stretched a plank across it for ease of moving about.  As I sat there contemplating crossing it to see what was over there, a small furry friend came scurrying across the rocks on my side of the ditch.
It seemed it wanted to cross the plank, presumably headed toward home, as its cheeks were full nearly to bursting with food it was taking home for its winter supply.  About the time it got to the edge of the ditch-crossing plank it apparently spotted my presense as it stopped in midstride before crossing.  Not wanting to get caught in the open crossing the plank it stood, cheeks bulging, lost in contemplation of its next move.
I took several photos, as I am wont to do, before I retreated and let the pretty little creature return to its fall food storage duties.

Recently, here in northern New York, there has been an unusual number of garter snakes present.  I have stumbled on many of them this spring, summer, and early fall.  I happened to take photographs of some of them as we crossed paths.

This first photo is a rarity in my mind.  I was picking blackberries along a fencerow that has grown up to bushes.  I had picked a small containerful, and was nearing the end of the fencetow when I reached for a succulent berry only to note this garter snake inches from my hand.

I realize they are relative harmless, yet I recoiled a bit.  I had previously never seen a snake up off the ground in a bush such as this one was.  It was around four feet up from the ground, and I believe obviously going for the very same berry I was.  It is also possible it was using the berry for bait in an attempt to lure some hapless victim to dinner.

While out and about on an ATV one fine late summer day, September 19th, to be more exact, I spotted this fine specimen.  It spotted me as well, but seemed in no hurry to leave the area.  We looked each other over for a minute or so while I took several photos.  Ultimately we went our separate ways.  I might guess I've had as many as twenty such encounters this year, where other years two or three might be more common.  There abundance may have something to do with weather, but that is merely speculation.