Must have been a tasty one.

We're over the hump. But that doesn't mean we can't get a big storm.

Into the wind.

Paperbark maple I think.

Acer griseum. From the park near the pond.

I keep my Keith Richards bobble-head near my aspirin & knitting & reading glasses & bandaids & hand lotion. Where do you keep your Keith bobble-head?

Well duh. That's what you get when you put out raw meat. No vultures today. Just a pair of hawks.

It's probably not an ecologically sound thing to do, putting out those hunks of suet, with generous slices of red meat. Bunnies are probably dying because I'm drawing hawks to the yard. Oddly, the little birds are not frightened off by the hawk. When he takes off from the feeder the little ones come scampering right back, even though the hawk is clearly nearby. Maybe they know they're safe as long as that hunk o' meat / suet is there.

Vultures are Big.

I bought this beef suet at the local Amish market. I put a big hunk out on Thursday night and I awoke Friday to a scene reminiscent of Hitchcock's The Birds. Vultures. Huge, swooping, quiet, clumsy. The one that landed on the suet feeder had a hard time balancing his huge body on that relatively little platform. I couldn't get a shot of him. The hawk was there too. He visited at least three times yesterday: 10 am, 2 pm, 5 pm.

So here's the deal.

He, the hawk, is keeping one eye on the crows in the next tree who are protecting their nest. Then he swivels his head to watch me as I take pictures of him. And finally he swivels his head to watch the chickadees at my bird feeders. As my husband pointed out, it's like that scene in Casino: "Since the players are looking to beat the casino, the dealers are watching the players. The box men are watching the dealers. The floor men are watching the box men. The pit bosses are watching the floor men. The shift bosses are watching the pit bosses. The casino manager is watching the shift bosses. I'm watching the casino manager. And the eye-in-the-sky is watching us all."

Pretty so much of the year but it's time for them to go.

A reminder. Never forget the gloves when you cut down ornamental grasses. I use hand clippers. I've done it with the evil hedge trimmer before but I prefer this quiet way.

Cicadas. Fully intact (although dead) cicadas, abandoned cicada "husks" [AKA exoskeletons; thanks to an alert reader] and cicada tunnels.

These are from The Great 2004 Cicada "Infestation." I didn't think of it as an infestation, with all those negative implications. I was thrilled to have them swarming all over the place, making racket and littering the sidewalks with their "husks." (Note to Pam: find out what the correct word is for "husk.") And here's a question: is it a Tchotchke if it stays in a drawer? Shouldn't a true tchotchke be on display?

For other C entries check out Chesapeake Lady and Nyack Lady.

A final word: I will try to be more original in the future, but when God Bless Y'all posted her Bugs for the B challenge I knew at that moment that I had to share my Cicadas.

Happy Birthday cyradaria! Do you remember this birthday card?

You gave this to my dad about 8 years ago. He doctored up the front of the card in his usual style. It's one of my treasures and the reason my house will always be full of boxes, bags, and drawers of paper.

Gus. He likes to help me quilt.

Clump the Sussex Spaniel (ahem, I mean Stump of course) wins! A sweetheart. And 10 years old. A senior citizen.

Giant schauzer. Last one.

Toy Brussels Griffon, sixth of seven.

My my that's one homely little dog. And this Google image is particularly undignified. I don't think he'll win the show.

Sussex spaniel. The fifth of seven.

Four of the finalists in the W.Dog Show. I'm rooting for the Puli.

From top to bottom: Puli, Scottish deerhound, Scottish terrier, standard poodle. All images swiped from Google images. These are not the actual finalists. (Although they could be I guess.)

Snowdrops in my yard. It's only Feb 10 but spring is here.

I think I would have tons more of these if I could stop pulling up what look like weeds but are probably these.

I like this color. Lichen green. A touch of blue.

Relatives? Could be.

On the drive to the Monocacy Aqueduct.

Snowdrops? Is that what these early white flowers are called?

Unidentified bugs (or beetles) at the aqueduct at the mouth of the Monocacy River.

Finally. Something I understand about the environmental debate.

George Carlin. So wise. I highly recommend spending a few minutes listening to him on the subject of saving the planet. Go here.

Maybe not.

I boasted a few weeks ago that I would cover these deck supports with smashed aluminum cans like the crackpot who lives nearby. Change of plans. As I pounded in the two nails holding up these two cans I thought: now what happens to this 4 x 4 after I've finished inserting hundreds of nails on all four sides. Hmmmm. Let me think this through a little more.

Sunset at the beaver pond today. Bitter cold.

Talk about your no-frills book.

I rarely buy new books these days but I had to have a copy of this one so I paid about 15 bucks to get it through Amazon. It was published by IndyPublish.com, a sort of self-publishing outfit (I gather). I understand why such companies exist; lots of people self-publish. But we know Darwin isn't around so who decided to make the effort to publish this (presumably no-longer-copyrighted) book?

2 degrees of separation or How One of My Relatives (and the lawn in this picture) May Have Caused 9/11

I came across this photo while, once again, attempting to get rid of papers. It's a picture of a cousin once removed (his long-dead father was my long-dead grandmother's brother) who I never met; he's standing in front of his dorm on the campus of Colorado State University in Greeley (now called University of Northern Colorado). Osama bin Laden and his pals in al Qaeda were inspired by the writings of an Egyptian writer-educator Sayyid Qutb, who was executed in 1966. Qutb wrote about the evils of the western world, much of which he discovered while living for 2 years in the US. As one website says: "While he was auditing classes [at Colorado State University in Greeley], Qutb also joined student clubs and even church groups, then began to form a hatred for America and the West. He would later write books of his experiences in Greeley, chastising young people for moral decay and [get this!] homeowners in Greeley for their dedication to mowing their lawns." So....my cousin was a freshman there in 1946. Assuming he graduated he would have been there until 1950 and therefore he would have overlapped with Qutb. Maybe something my cousin did irritated Qutb so much that he went back to Egypt and wrote his screed about the US and Greeley in particular. The rest is history. I'm sorry.

Check out that foam.

I recently turned a friend on to the glories of French press coffee and he wrote this poem. (I think better phrasing might be "I recently turned on a friend to the glories of French press coffee and he wrote this poem.")

Ah what a drink that press doth make
As if coffee for the first time I taste
The stuff is scrumptious and now mine to take
All other taste of coffee now seems chaste

Another oddly anonymous building. This one is on Rhode Island Ave, in College Park.