Visitor from Yakima

Old Fair Oaks Village Square
Just as birds of a feather, stick together, so do long-time friends. I lost track of my buddy after we graduated from High School in San Diego. I wondered where she was for years, then through the miracle of that annoying website ‘Classmates’, Diane found me back in 2000, just before the turn of the century.

I visited her in her home in Yakima Washington not long after that. I was tickled to learn that after college she traveled to Norway, becoming an Au Pair for a family she still maintains close contact with. What really impressed me - I suffer from bilingual skills-envy - is that Diane learned to speak Norwegian fluently. I imagine shrieking at kids in another language must be the height of 'immersion' langauge training. A second language - that's a holy grail for me. The children she nurtured have kids of their own, and Diane visits the whole family every couple of years or so.


Diane,aka 'Didi'
But before taking off, I got to have Diane for one day and I made the most of it. I think we squeezed in as much non-stop chatting into the occasion as we could manage. I happily showed her around my little world, from breakfast at Ettorie’s, to my local Farmer’s Market where we purchased fresh flowers – a must for this time of year – bee pollen and lavender salve. Then Diane agreed to allow me to show off the chickens from Old Fair Oaks Village.


Any chick can have a bad hair day

BAWWWWK! Let me in, I need some hair gel!
Then after a drive on Winding Way and a tour of Sailor Bar, we headed back to my place where we spent most of the day lounging and chatting. Next thing you know it was nearly nightfall, so in the best Fair Oaks tradition, it was off to the park for some dusk deer hunting. Before we even got into the park we saw a half dozen turkeys and two does with half grown fawns - one doe appeared to have triplets.


We weren't the only turkeys headed for the park

usual spooky night buck shot
The last stop of the day was to Casablanca Restaurant for a Moroccan Dinner. Friday and Saturday nights are Belly Dancing nights!


Boy, the joint was jumping!
As always, it was lovely seeing Maurite. He treated us like the visiting princesses we were. We were treated to a dish of fragrant and delish, couscous that went nicely with Diane's lamb with honey and almonds and my chicken with prunes and herbs - double yum! Of course our feast included Pastille, minted teas and baklava so we were fully stuffed by the time we were done.

Before we left, Diane treated the pair of us to Moroccan cook books. Unlike me, Diane is an accomplished cook, specializing in all things delish, particularly Norwegian dishes such as lamb and cabbage stew. Recently she's begun to successfully experiment with Moroccan foods. As for me, I'm going to have to read my cook book to learn North African kitchen arts. Our final surprise was Maurite gifted us each with a bottle of orange water – a necessity for all aspiring Moroccan princesses cooks. Diane has already experimented with Rose water for teas and other Moroccan specialties.

Diane said she felt as if we'd gone out to a friend's house for dinner and come to think on it, I guess we did.


Check out the Casablanca owner, Maurite (on right in pale green caftan), dancing in his cool shades

Columbus Day Weekend

A week or two ago, Don asked if I was up for some birding over the Columbus Day Weekend - not even a need to ask. He arrived Friday night & we wasted no time, heading out to Meiss Road, out in the sticks, looking for Common and Lesser Nighthawks. No such luck, they've apparently headed south for the winter already. We did find one Burrowing Owl - v. cute - and after dark we spotted a fence jumping doe and a fox, that was likely a Kit Fox. Ooooo!

Saturday morning we headed off to 'the Pit' in Rancho Cordova. The pit is a bit of the American River Parkway found behind the house of Jerri, that is, Dr. Langham. Jerri, aka 'lucky duck', is newly retired from a career teaching at Sac State. Jerri's my hero! He lead the 'fateful trip to Churchill, Manitoba Canada in 2004 - one of my top ever, 'All Birds, All the Time' vacation adventures. I say the trip was fateful because I busted my knee on that sojourn. Jerri, and his assistant Sean really saved my toast on that trip.

Jerri sprinkling seed in 'The Pit';
a view of the American River Parkway
Quail enjoying the breakfast bar
Autumn is here, we all gripped binoculars with icy fingers. Looking down into the pit I glimpsed a black & white crown with a splash of bright yellow - a White-throated Sparrow. The bird did not show up again- v. annoying, but I know saw it, even though I was the only one that did.

Nothing too exciting, but the company made the time worth while. We sat in lounge chairs birding the riparian vista all comfy like. A couple of weeks ago when I birded at the pit I found myself staring at a cinnamon bellied warbler with 2 white wing bars, trying to force my brain into an identification, but nothing came. Jerri shouted, 'It's a Bay-breasted Warbler!'

WOW.

Bay-breasted Warbler
Bay-breasted Warblers are an eastern species and I've seen them in Minnesota and Canada, so it rather felt like now they're following me around.

A Wilson's Warbler, a quizzical little bugger

Here are a couple of other shots that I took in the woods along the American River Parkway, behind Jerri's house.

Hermit Warbler, ironically with loads of other birdie company
Black-throated Gray Cutie. I mean, Black-throated Gray Warbler

Hyper little Warbler - the Black-throated Gray
The only glitch in the weekend was I had a hair appointment in Suisun City. While I got my hair froo-froo'd, Don attempted to bird Grizzly Island Wildlife Area, but discovered it was closed for the hunting season. Oops. So much for my planning skills. Don managed to entertain himself for the duration.

A week ago I drove 3 hours round trip and did NOT see a particular cool birdie. So this weekend, birding buddy on hand, we headed back to San Luis Reservoir where we saw this rather bland-at-first-sight bird, which lead to high-fives all around and a lifer for both of us.

Fresh out of the Siberian Arctic - Mr. Yellow-billed Loon!
Photo by Mike Rogers
Hurrah! We viewed the Loon from the observation deck at the back of the Romero Visitor's Center. I gave Don my small camera and he hiked wa-a-ay downhill for a closer look at the bird, which, as Don hiked toward it, rudely swum away. Happily, his hike was judiciously reward by his spotting yet another lifer bird for himself - a Vaux's Swift. Hurrah!

Loon Look
Our next stop was the 16 mile drive in Del Pueblo Canyon in Stanislaus County - nada! Oh well. The following morning our final hurrah was at Sailor Bar, "MY" bit of the American River Parkway. There we found Don's first Phaenopepla [fay-no-pep-la] (click here to see one) for our annual lists. Just for the record, the bird's name is, in San Diego at least, pronounced 'Para-pah-nail-ee-yah' (this is one of those things you may not wish to ask about, (right Joann? *tee hee*) Last but not least, here is one of several random shots of Acorn Woodpeckers.

Totally a fun weekend all round - I hope for another one just like it real soon.

Clown faced, Acorn Woodpecker hoarding its acorns for the winter

PLAGUE ALERT, DIAL 911!

Damn it. A couple of weeks ago my home experienced the Amityville Horror syndrome, invaded by a plague of bot flies.

Some honey bees obviously have issues

On Saturday morning I was out birding with friends, at one with nature - or so I thought - minding my own business, looking through my binocs and a Honey Bee - obviously a bee with issues - stung me!

Two realms of the buggy world had taken issue with me but I shrugged it off.

Flash forward to Monday night. I was filling my new composter with a bunch of wilted lettuce. Needing some dried leaf litter, I dragged over a downed limb from the Trident Maple tree. I stood barefoot; it was after dark so I stood in the patio light, stripping off the crackly leaves into the composter. It suddenly occurred to me I ought to look down. ARRRGGGHHHHHH!

Bugs!

A b'jillion little black & red bugs raced around my toes in the dead leaves. I was suddenly doing 'the Dance of the Bugs'. Thank heavens it was bugs, because had it been a Mantis or worse, it would have been the first, and the last time I could go near the composter.

It gets worse. Tonight I needed to water the patio plants. I cheerily headed for my prized, heritage Russian tomatoes.

AAAAAARRRRRRHHHHHHHHHHH!


TOBACCO HORN WORM

I shrieked out a string of very naughty words. The damned worm was like 37 feet long -honestly it was very nearly that big- and it was stuffing it's chubby cheeks with my tomato plant!

I was stunned; the worm was holding on to the leaf stem with HUGE feel that looked sort of like the thing was wearing those Dr. Denton footsie pajamas like kids wear. Did I say it was stuffing it's fat cheeks with my tomato plant? I stuffed the loathsome creatures into a jar and hunted around the plant for more worms but could only find one more. HOW THE EFF did something that HUGE remain hidden from me long enough to get that big?

GAH! I spoke to several savvy gardening friends during the week and they told me the damned Horned Worms in their adult form are night-flying Hawk Moths. I was amazed. Hawk moths are so huge they're often mistaken for hummingbirds! Here's what the effing things look like (p.s., I'm working on my buggie anger issues). The damned things can sniff out tomatoes on which to lay their disgusting little caterpillar producing eggs.

EVIL Tobacco Hawk Moth pretending to be a Hummingbird

Everyone I told about the worms (which is half the population of Northern California) said the same thing. You never notice the damned worms until they are large enough to arm wrestle your for your tomato plant. Apparently the young worms are extremely well camouflaged - the little shites.

So my question is, WHY am I being punished with a plague of insects??? Do I not support the Nature Conservancy? Don't I gently take stray green lace-wings and crane flies and carry them tenderly, outside to safety? Did I not see a Black-widow spider at the light rail station this morning and I did NOT step on the spider (as it was minding its own business)????Next there will be a plague of toads in the pool and blood when I turn on the kitchen tap.

[Management has received word that Ms. Miller's Niece Doris is also experiencing a plague of her own - a web-building spider, the size of a Buick has taken up residence just outside her Brooklyn window. When will it all end????]