Bluebirds--Falling in Love and Dealing with Trauma of Premature Fledging due to Snake Predation.

I provide this narrative to (1) introduce how we became interested in bluebird nest and more importantly (2) relay our stragegies in a premature fledging situation.

We had a tough winter in Virginia.  We have always fed the birds during all year long.  I've never gotten fancy, just black oil sunflower, millet for the smaller birds and suet (which I make)**.We had a couple of days cobbled together of -5F nights, which has been unusual in recent winters.  Also, we had a few freakish snow storms.  Those two things presented a perfect storm for bird's needing supplemental feeding.

When it is so cold, to give the birds a caloric boost, I make suet.  I typically melt lard and peanut butter together and add various flours.  The recipe that I am using consistently is 1 part fat (combo of mostly lard and some peanut butter; 2 parts corn meal; 1 part flour.  I work in pounds, so I'm using 1lb for each "part" (1 lbs fat; 2lbs cornmeal; 1 lb flour).  You can other ingredients such as raisins (ensure that your dogs cannot ingest).  I've had good results using Masa flour in place of the cornmeal. I also add some mixed seed--scattering, not densely. I place my suet in tradition green suet baskets (which last for years and years unless crushed by a possum's grip), as well as put "suet muffins" on the platform feeders.  Hardware cloth  (e.g. rat wire) also makes it easy to put suet just about any place.

Once the mixture is cooled in fridge (or freezer) it cuts easily. I use loaf pans, muffin pans, square silicone baking pans to serve as mold.  If you use a metal pan, particularly a muffin pan, you can put it it on your stove top and heat the bottom.  It releases beautifully.

This year, I noted several anomalies.  First, the juncos were eating at the suet and seed (platform) feeders.  I've never seen these delightful birds at a feeder bur rather hopping about on the ground in their cheerful way.  However, this year, I used my McGyver skills, and I fashioned some platform type feeders.  Placing both suet and seeds in these feeders, I ended up with lots of eager eaters to include the juncos.  Second, I had bluebirds at my suet feeders.  I had 3 pairs of bluebirds, and I don't recall ever seeing them in the winter at my yard (though they overwinter in VA). 

Seeing them sparked an interest in bluebird houses.There's lots of information on the internet, none more comprehensive than you will find at Sialis.org.  I also find Cornell Lab of Ornithology a great place for bird identification, feed suggestions, and bird house building.

We built 3 bluebird houses along with the predator guards to thwart snakes, raccoons and other bird seeking varmints. (Though I should note that our 'territory of open yard' will only support 1 house.  Was hoping another species would take residence.) Some of the web information said to not be disheartened if you had no bluebirds.  We were thrilled to get a nesting pair (and they chased another pair from one of the other houses.)The other houses, which could have housed chickadees, were not used by any species.

My one attempt at 'monitoring' the blue bird box caught the hen on her eggs (though I had announced myself).  I did not attempt further monitoring, and I'm sorry for that now. Over the last couple of weeks, we have enjoyed watching these industrious parents feed and remove fecal sacs from the nest. However, because I did not monitor, I do not know how many eggs were laid nor how many hatched which did cause a problem. Let me explain.

On Saturday, mid-day, there was a raucous noise of birds. Both Mark and I went outside and inspected near the box.  We were looking for a snake as that was the type of alarm that we heard.  Not only were the parents furiously flying about--agitated in a way we've not seen, there were several other birds (warblers and chipping sparrows) that had joined in.

We didn't see anything, and we went inside.  Mark went on a motorcycle ride.  Oddly, the male blue bird kept approaching the window (which was odd behavior).  Plus there was still alot of  noise continuing outside.  I pulled out the binoculars (not a very good pair I should add), and I notice in a little sapling near the house a very shiny black color. SNAKE!

I'm terrified of snakes, but I armed myself with a broom and went out.  The snake, a slender but long rat snake, was about 10 feet up and stretched out on a horizontal limb, and the broom was not up to the task. (Meaning that I had to be underneath him enough to reach with the broom, and he could simply fall on top of me).  I threw everything handy-brick, old wood pieces-- but he wouldn't budge (and my goal was not to maul him).  Searching about the outside of the house for a suitable tool for this job,  I found a very long, metal scaffolding brace. Not only did it have heft (and I could heave it), but it had length to get me a safe distance for his dismount!

 I proceeded to bang the sapling as hard as I could and I broke all of the horizontal branches, getting closer and closer to him.  I was not going to kill him, just disabuse him of the notion that this was a friendly place.  It did not take long (metal on a sapling yields a very strong noise and vibration) for him to relocate.

The parents would not go back into the box.  I decided to look in the box.  I removed the top and found nary a chick.  Had they fledged prior? (Had I monitored, I would have known if they were old enough to fledge on their own and how many).  I had seen the parents caring for chicks (occulted from my view) in the box, so I know they were chicks there earlier.  Further,   I was confident that the snake had not eaten the chicks because there were no bulges in him.  Where were they?

The chitting and flitting of the bluebird parents continued.  I thought I had seen something hopping in the yard, but then did not see anything when I got closer.  All dogs were rounded up.  (The bluebird house was outside of our fenced area to protect against the dogs).  Noise!  Noise!  Noise! There, I spotted a baby bird.  I scooped him up.  There's no way this chick had fledged normally.  There was still some down flecking on its head.  Tail feathers were but stubs and behind shoulder blades was naked as a baby's bottom skin. I placed him in the nest box.

Thirty minutes later I found chick #2.   I placed the chick back in the nesting box.  They were there for more than 4 hours.  I was watching vigilantly, and I could tell that the parents were NOT going to go into the nest box. They were still squawking about the box hole but were not oging in. Well, there were two chicks in there that would die a slow death.  What to do?

I searched for, found and  called a wildlife rehabilator.  She said to bring the chicks in and warm them (it was cool outside).  She said that if a box is predated, then it is unlikely that the parents would return to it.  (Though there was no snake incursion, the proximity was enough).  Further, she said that the snake would be back. [Note: I later read from online resources that when the nest is under attack, that the baby birds will spontaneously fledge (whether ready or not) in response to the the alarm call of the parents.]  In that caucophony of bluebird and other bird alarms calls, they all bailed presumably.  I should also note that the snake has not been back. Metal scaffolding brace on wood sapling provides a powerful THWAMPING that no animal would want to come back to.  Good vibrations for me to get him away.

I nabbed the pair of chicks and brought them inside.  Mark and I warmed them in our cupped hands and they became more active.  I in an ornamental birdcage that I had (who knew it would have a use?) and put their nest in there as well. I placed a microfleece towel in there so the could stay warm. Given that they had not eaten for so long,  I tried to feed them mealworms and softened cat food (as instructed by the wildlife rehabber), but they would have none of it.  It was clear that this strategy would not work.

I elected to take the bird cage (which had a removable top) outside and place it on top of my mealworm feeder which my bluebirds were very keen on.  I whistled (as I had been doing each time I put out mealworms for the last 3 weeks), and placed the bird cage with the door open and the top off.  It hangs from a large oak tree branch (with about a 15 foot wire cable) and NO predator can get to it.

To my great relief, both the male and female came and immediately began ministrations of their two chicks.  Later that evening, I found chick #3 and took him to the bird cage. It nestled in with its mates.  I was putting meal worms out of the momma bluebird to ease her burden--as it appeared that the male, previously so diligent--to include when I first put the cage out--had abandoned helping her care for this brood.  However, I observed him taking mealworms and offering them to her on a tree branch.  I'm not sure that was even the original father.  Who's to know?  Plus, my neighbor has bluebirds, and he has noticed them coming back with mealworms. Is this a male looking for a mate?

Nevertheless, the female and (who has been guarding the nest and dive bombing the Carolina Wrens who were getting mealworms nearby) was still getting the mealworms and taking them around back.  She had also been "chitting" without stop around the southside of the house (the 'nest' is now on the west side where I found chick #3.  But I didn't see anything.

As it was going to be cool over night and the bird cage is just that a cage, I was concerned for inclement weather.  I slipped the cage into an insulated plastic shopping bag and left the front open  for the momma bird (who was using this entrance in addition to the top).  She chitted and chitted at us as we protected the 'nest'.  I fretted all of Saturday night over the babies.

Sunday--woke with trepidation wondering if the chicks who had been in the box were weakened beyond repair from not having been fed.  I stuck my hand in the cage, and everyone was nestled in tight.  Everyone was warm.

Female is still taking food to the south side.  She's chit, chit chitting in the dogwood (and she never has been in that tree).  There!  Chick #4 had been hanging out by a brush pile that we kept out there for the birds.  (Basically a pile of tree branches from a palanomia that we cut down.  The birds love to be in it).   Fortunately, he had survived a very cool night.  He was fussing and waddling to get away from me once he could tell that I was in nabbing mode.  Surprising, the female did not dive bomb me, but I could tell it crossed her mind.   I nabbed him but not without having to throw a shirt over him (I didn't wan't to injure him) and the female bird raising a stink via chitting (though not as loudly as if I had been a snake predator).  I placed him in the 'nest'.  Now everyone is together and the female can ministrate to a single nest.  Though all in one place, the female continued to chit and fly to the dogwodd for a few hours. Finally, her initial distress dissipated, and she focused on these chicks.

Now...the importance of monitoring.  I still don't know if there is a missing chick.  It is entirely possible that the 'absent' father is helping that chick.  Despite my best efforts, that remains an unknown.  However, if I had counted, I would know.

Nevertheless, I'm on day 3 today.  I believe that my nestlings are about 12-13 days old when they prematurely fledged (site notes 17-18 days as the norm) based on the great photos on Sialis.  The nestlings are safe and cozy.  Their momma is taking care of them in the makeshift nest, and they can complete their development safely  and fledge normally.

Conclusion:  I was not prepared for the notion of a premature fledging due to predation. However, our strategies were successful (so far, fingers are still crossed--see P. S. for the happy ending.) due to the help of a wildlife rehabber who generously took my call on a weekend and warned that the nest was likely abandoned (even though I had put the then two neslting back in it and the great and extensive information available online.  But mostly due to the dedication of the parents and their trust in us.  I know this sounds far fetched but the male bluebird  coming to the window seemed as if it was beckoning me to come back outside was very cool and allowed me to successfully intervene.  Also, that I had "trained" the bluebirds (and nuthatches and Carolina wrens) to know that when I whistled, fresh meal worms would be available at a known location helped me beckon the parents for the makeshift nest.

My neighbor, Tim, who has had bluebirds for years helped give me moral support and confirm that these birds were not ready to fledge--meaning that I was not intervening inappropriately and that my interventions would help them develop further.  He also noted the irony that as a 'first timer' compared to his many years without incident, that such a thing would happen to me.



P. S.  I am happy to report that all 4 pre-fledglings were cared for by their mother in the makeshift nest.  On  Tuesday afternoon, I had one fledge.  On Wednesday, I had one fledge in the a.m. and the other two fledged in the afternoon.  I am thrilled.  This is the best Mother's Day lead up ever.  As much as I watched that nest, I cannot believe that I did not see anyone fly out!



**I belong to Restaurant Depot so I can buy in bulk and make suet much cheaper than I can buy the cakes for.  And it is easy to do and doesn't take much time.  Plus I know what is in it.





Neighbor Helping Neighbor

I find the idea of not knowing your neighbors foreign.  Most of my neighbors, I have known since I was a wee lass of 25.  I'm 57.  I have 32 years of solid experience of enjoying the benefits of neighbors who can help out in times of need.

It's far too easy to become isolated from our neighbors, particularly when one lives in a "bedroom community".  Work takes us away during the day.  Once home the demands of the household take over.

During my 32 years, we have had several major weather events, though none that I would label as a disaster.  They were inconveniences that could be mitigated by a generator, a chain saw and most importantly the help of our neighbors.

Hurricane Floyd brought down three 100 year old damns.  No neighbor help involved other than being a witness to the destruction of 2 of those dams when Tim, my immediate neighbor, standing at the front door about 7 a.m. and saying, "You are going to want to see this."  "This" was the water in his pond that was pouring over his damn.  His neighbor's damn had already been breached causing his pond to swell.  Water moves quickly and its power to erode an earthen dam is awe inspiring.  When it broke, a wall of water went crashing through the bottom (behind our property).  The next day, I could see a four foot high mark of the muddy tracks that the overflow left behind.

An ice storm in 1998 caused almost the entire electrical grid in New Kent to be knocked out.  The storm descended down on us in the early morning hours of December 23.  I awoke to a large crash.  It was pitch black as the power had been knocked out.  It was not until morning that I saw a massive oak branch had landed on my car.  No damage to my car as my car had been encapsulated in a massive ice cocoon.  It was very cold, and each of us had a measure of comfort that we shared with our neighbors--beer, liqueur, steak and potatoes cooked on a fire grate.  When you are surrounded by 1 inch ice encrusted oak trees, the dangers were ever-present.

Both Isabel and Irene packed a wallop, the latter making our county the number one FEMA disaster area in VA.  Every single road was rendered impassable.  We had to cut our way out of the neighborhood.  But we did it in concert with our neighbors.  During Isabel, one of my neighbors must have experienced a microblast which had about 10 trees on her home (some poking through) and her driveway impassable.  She was caring for her brother who had MS.  It was vital that the nurse be able to get into administer needful things. She made outreach to my daughter and within the hour we had assembled a team of help with two tractors and 4 chainsaws.  Her worry for her brother's care put to rest.

Our inconveniences were potentially life threatening from wind/tree havoc, but not on the scale of having water invade every aspect of your life:  home and travel.  That the message from FEMA is focusing on the neighbor helping neighbor is a reminder of how important our cohesiveness as a community is when there is a need.  Whether it is checking in on an elderly neighborhood, cutting a pathway in/out of one's homestead, providing water/food/comfort or a daring water rescue, these are the things that bind us as a community.

There is so much second guessing about whether Houston should have been evacuated.  Not sure where 4 million people could go much less how they would get there.  But I am sure that whatever misery a disaster metes out, neighbor helping neighbor will provide both a physical and emotional lifeline and for dealing with such epic and tragic events.

Korean War "Morale Builder" Letter

With the death of my father, I am in possession of his personal things (in addition to everything from my parent's time together to include things from my grandmother and my mother's brother who I never met).  These things predate my stepmom.

There are several things from the Korean War where my father served as a communications specialist, stationed in Austria.  In addition to finding pictures, his wool cap and his United States Football Alliance game bag which has a hand-painted and signed vignette, it appears that each place he played was hand painted--the pencil lines still on the bag.

I also found a folded letter, very tattered which appears to be one of those huckster letters that was passed around for amusement.  I recreate it here.  All 'typos' are from the letter.  I elected to stop putting in 'sic'.  I'm not sure why he kept it once returning.

Morale Builder

Dear Buddy:

Nothing much doing back hear. I sure envy you down there in Korea, in the thick of things, bet you never have a dull moment.

I was over to see your wife last night and read all of your letters, they were a bit mushy, but I don't blame you, Fran is a swell girl. Wonderful figure, looks and personality. Guys still whistle at her when she walks down the street.

Your brother-in-law Smidly dropped in. He was wearing the brown suit you bought just before you left. Fran gave it to him as she thought it would be out of style when you got back. Several other couples came in and we killed two cases of beer. Wanted to chip in for it. But Fran wouldn't let us. She said you send ten or twenty dollars extra for her to spend as she wishes. One of the guys is buying your new golf clubs too. Paid twenty dollars for them and will pick them up tomorrow. That's more than she got for your movie camera and projector.

Fran was the life of the party. I thought she'd be a little shaken after the accident last week with the Chevie, buy you'd never know she'd been in a head-on collision and smashed yur car to bits. The other driver is still in the hospital and threatening to sue. Too bad Fran forgot to pay the insurance, but the funny think is, she isn't a bit worried. We admire her courage and nonchalance and good thing you gave her power of attroney before you left. Smart girl, her willingness to mortgage the house was really wonderful.

To get back to the party, you should have seen Fran do an imitation of Gypsy Rose Lee. She was still going strong when we said goodnight to her and Claude. Guess you know Claude's rooming at your house. It's near his work and he save as lot of gas and lunch. He sas Fran can cook bacon and eggs bes in the world, and really does things to a streak.

Nothing much new with me except my wife got another raise-$100 a week now so we do okay with the $90 I get at the office. It's getting late now so I better stop. I can see through my window accoss the street. Fran and Claude are having a nightcap. He's got on the smoking jacket you wore so often.

Well, Buddy, I sure wish I could be out there with you.  Guy - Give those Commies Hell. .

Stupefying.

Our so-called President, DJT, is whining that Nordstrom's is treating his daughter unfairly by making a decision to no longer carry Ivanka's line of whatever she peddles.  The simple, incontrovertible truth:  Nordstrom's is a an entity that is free to make business decisions as it sees fit (within the realm of the law).  The impetus for the decision is immaterial.  If Ivanka is half the businesswoman that she is espoused to be, then she must be bristling at her father's yammerin'. I take nothing away from her accomplishments.

Ironically, spawn of so-called President, DJT, JR stated in response to workplace harrassment:

"If you can't handle some of the basic stuff that's become a problem in the workforce today, you don't belong in the work force. You should go maybe teach kindergarten,"

source: http://www.cnn.com/2016/10/14/politics/donald-trump-jr-women-workplace/

I suppose that he may be counseling his sister to go teach kindergarten if she is unable to deal with a very basic business event to folks saying no to your wares.  It happens.  No one but DJT in is silly string mind wins 100% of the time.

Stupefying--a word that I seem to be using often.

Purging a Lifetime

With my father's demise, and my mother having passed 28 years prior, I'm going through two lifetime's of stuff with my stepmother who shared 25 years with my father.  At times it is very emotional seeing long-forgotten and in many cases, never-seen items.

As I look around me, I think of the things that my kids might sift through and wonder, "What is this?" or "Why on earth would she keep that?".  Things are just that, "things."  Becoming attached to them is not such a good thing.  And as I look around, I realize that someone many of the 'things' that I have seem to have become part of my shared DNA.

I realize now why parents do not part with this things prior to their death.  So many tangible memories imbued in the the stuff that fills our lives--holds our precious things, supports our life, and reflects who we are.


Pressure Cooking


I was at my local N&W Salvage and stumbled upon a mountain of pressure cookers.  I've seen pressure cookers in there before, but having 3 at home, I've passed them by.

The current stock is Fagor Duo in 6-10qt models, and they had exceptional pricing.  The price for a 10qt was $69.99--about $50 cheaper than Amazon.

My three pressure cookers are large 16 and 20 qt and a  smaller 5 .5 qt model.  I use the latter daily as part of making my dog's food preparation--using it to effortlessly cook their starch (white rice, lentils, beans, brown rice) as well as making food for us.  However, the size of the pan is limiting. 

As I was fixing my dog's food after walking away from the purchase earlier in the day, I decided that the larger size would give me more flexibility.  Plus, it was budget friendly.  I went back the next day, and I'm ever glad that I did for these reasons:
  • quality exceptional
  • size is roomy, and perfect for family meal sized prep 
The only con is that the 'trivet' that comes with it is a joke.  The steamer basked is great, but it would be nice if it were taller. It has 2 pressure settings in addition to a setting that allows you to cook sans pressure (e.g. an open valve).  Yesterday, I used that feature to make a large pot of bean soup.  I was able to keep the top on, heat low, and they cooked to perfection.

No buyer's remorse, and this is a valued cook's tool.




The Hard Work of Dying

My father's terminal illness diagnosis came early June, about 3 weeks after he presented with a broken collar bone--the result of his simply rolling over in bed.  My stepmom was visiting her daughter in Illinois.  My father was not alarmed; he called me to tell me he was driving himself to the emergency room.  "No, Dad.  Call your orthopedic and ask them to see you today."

Our odyssey began with this left collarbone "pathological break."  Both he and I knew that nothing good would unfold from this.  I took him home and immediately hit the internet.  He went either that afternoon or the next day to The Cremation Society and took care of things. 

The prevailing question for all of us is "How long?"  It had less of an urgency at the beginning as my father felt reasonably well, was ambulatory, and could engage in all of the activities that he could enjoy.  The urgency of the ask escalated with the more debilitating effects of the progress of his stage IV liver cancer:  cane, walker,  wheel chair, furniture moving belt to go from bed to bedside pot--the latter being a surprising freedom clung to when all other freedom from the bed is now out of reach.

My father's younger brother at 72 is 12 years my father's junior, came to help us last Tuesday.  While I know many of the stories on my mother's side of the family, largely due to my Nanny telling them in an animated fashion while drinking coffee around the kitchen table, my father's history is somewhat hidden.  My uncle tells my sister, "You daddy is the closest thing to a father that I ever had."  He tells me, "We would have starved if it had not been for your daddy."  He can engage with my father in a way that we cannot given their shared history.  It is an enormous comfort to both my stepmom, sister and I as well as my Dad to have him here.  It is not service to our family that I will ever forget.

Each day is now measured by fluid and food (if any) intake, outflow and pain management.  My uncle is able to use the furniture moving strap I rummaged out of my garage to help lift my dad's torso up, and then helping him pivot to the bedside commode.  This man who has always been independent has reduced his current situation as "A stallion put in a corral."  The last ambulation from the bed to the commode will soon be lost. Who would have thought that such a modest movement would be the one last freedom of a dying man? 

My father's faith accepts that God will take him when He is ready.  When I kiss my father each night, I say to him, "I hope that you die tonight."  My stepmom's visiting  friend heard me say this, and looked shocked.  To a dying man in misery, saying "I hope that you die tonight (or sometimes I say, I hope that you go to perpetual rest)" is the same as saying, "I hope that you have a nice day."  It is something that he prays for.

My stepmom's friend was great to have around.  She is thoughtful and energetic.  However, she has  not had the 2 a.m conversations with my father who asks, "How can I feel so low, and still be alive?" Or, "I don't know how much longer I can take this."  My father is a tough old bird--witnessed by the fact that he is still with us.  His toughness is working against his goal of transitioning quickly.  

Until I wrote this post, I had not considered how much the nearing of death is much like the nearing of birth.  Presuming that one is diagnosed with a terminal illness, as with finding out that one is pregnant, the time horizon steadily truncates from months, to weeks to days to hours to minutes. One ends with a new life being thrust into the world, the other with a life removed from this world. Both are as regular and ordinary as the sun rising and setting, but until we experience it for ourselves, we cannot fully appreciate the process.

We have honored my dad's desire to die at home. Being a participant in the sacred process of leaving this world, and offering comfort to a loved one preparing to depart is truly an honor and a privilege--as it is with welcoming a new life.  He is still concerned that he is a burden to us.  He is not.  But his frailty means that we need to enlist the help of professional care givers to give my dad a sense that others are helping and give us a sense that his needs can be met for hygiene and other comforts.  (One of the caregivers complimented us on how clean he was and how well-conditioned his skin was).  We've done our best, but his ability to participate is impaired.  We need professionals to help position him so that he is not injured.

My father has already made it past the mid-point in the bell curve for his diagnoses.  In the normal course of events, a baby is born on his/her own schedule, and a person will die on his or her own schedule.  All we onlookers can do is be there to smooth the passage into the world or out of it.  Throughout the process, I am reminded that I am my father's daughter:  pragmatic, efficacious, objective.