S’no Day

She: “C’mon, slugabed, I’ve got to go soon.”

He: “Snow day.”

She: “It most certainly is day. You can see in the house without turning the lights on, and it’s before 8 AM. We might survive the winter yet.”

He: “Snow day.”

She: “Are you listening to me? It is day! Wake up before it’s over!

He: “Hang it, love, look out the window!

She: “Oh my God, it’s snowing!

He: “Like I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s no day for you to be going anyplace!

She: “But I’ve got an appointment in town! I can’t afford to miss it!”

He: “You’re driving in this?”

She: “Yeah?”

He: “Then they’re something I do want you to miss.”

She: “My appointment?”

He: “The trees that’re shooting up out of the ground while you’re trying to steer a car over it.”

*     *     *     *     *     *     

She will be out in this all day – they’re calling for up to 5 inches of the white stuff, which in this part of the world will have the impact that a two-foot blizzard would have in, like, Maine or Minnesota. She’ll probably be by to visit blogs and all sometime this evening, or tomorrow. In the meantime, tell her to be careful for me, willya?

Hummingbirds in Snow

People say Hummingbirds are too fragile to withstand extreme weather.  Ha!  Hummingbirds are strong, resilient and fierce.

On December 29th, 2010, I video taped this Anna’s Hummingbird sipping nectar from a feeder on our back deck.  Three hummingbirds that we know of wintered here on San Juan Island in Puget Sound.  During the snowstorm they were out flitting around and playing chase. They all come in to feed, but only one at a time. They are very territorial and they fight over the nectar even though there is more than plenty to go around.

Lunch With A Woodpecker & Some Snow

Yesterday as I sat at the dining room table eating my lunch I watched the Juncos and Chickadees fighting over the suet in the woodpecker feeder and wondered why the woodpecker had never come back.  I figured our greasy spoon cuisine didn’t suit him.  Alas.

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than his missus showed up!  I was so excited I deserted my Pad Thai noodles and ran for my camera.  Of course, when I got back, the woodpecker had gone. I put my camera down on the snack bar, returned to the dining room table and resumed eating.

The missus came back.  I jumped from my chair and she fled again.  Too much movement behind the windows.  I got my camera, moved to sit closer to the window, and waited.  I sat very, very still.

It paid off.  She returned.

a female Hairy Woodpecker hanging from a suet basket.

Mrs. Hairy Woodpecker

We know this is a lady because Mr. Hairy Woodpecker wears a bright red cap.  This little lady is quite liking her cherry-walnut suet.  She returned to it several times today and I’ll likely have to refill the feeder tomorrow.   The store didn’t have the same flavor this week, so I am hoping she likes oats, peanuts, almonds and pecans as well — and maybe the new menu will draw Mr. Woodpecker back!

~*~

We had quite a snowstorm today!

About the time I was getting Amoeba’s breakfast this morning, it started to snow — huge white flakes falling fast.  And sticking.   You all know by now that snow isn’t one of my favorite things.

By the time Amoeba was ready to leave for work, I had given him directions on how to run my errands, an assurance of my undying devotion in the face of anything but snow, and the keys to the car.  I kissed him good-bye and went and got a sweater.  I was staying inside where it was warm.  Just think, I could catch up on my blogging!

The power went out.

Crap.

Oh well, I’ll make cookies … oh, no oven.

Crap. 

I could read.  I don’t need electricity to read and I have plenty of books to choose from.  I’ll just make a cup of tea and … crap.  A book just isn’t a book without a good cup of tea.

I texted Thom. I talked to Amoeba on the phone. I texted my sister.  I talked to my sister on the phone.  I talked to Amoeba on the phone.  I took a video of the hummingbird at the feeder while it was snowing like crazy (if I ever figure out how to crop it, I’ll share it).

Then I saw the orange-suited power company guys in my backyard and went out to talk to them.  They said they knew the outage occurred somewhere between Pear Point Road and Egg Lake.  Oh goody, that’s only half the island.  They told me the power would be up as soon as possible.  I wasn’t cranky with them, it was snowing and cold out and I was glad they were doing their jobs. I did, however, resign myself to a long wait.  Imagine my surprise when the power came back on about 15 minutes later.   The guys in my backyard might nowt have known where the problem was, but obviously somebody found it and it was a quick fix.

It quit snowing, the sun emerged, and all was right with my world again!

Hummingbirds in Snow

We still have Hummingbirds, and since I figured you wouldn’t believe me, I took photographs to prove it — lousy photographs, but photographs nonetheless.

I took this shot through the dining room window.  That white stuff you see on the roof behind the bird is snow.  I have three Hummingbird feeders but only one is out for the winter.  During our cold snap I had to switch the bottles out every half-hour to 45 minutes to keep the syrup from freezing.

Amoeba calls this fellow pictured above “Dog”, as in Dog-in-the-manger, because he perches on the feeder and won’t let the others come near it.  That only works for awhile though, and then one will get brave enough to challenge him and manage a drink.

This isn’t a very good shot, either. I guess it is hard to take a decent photo when one is shivering. Here you see the Hummingbird on the porch rail in what is left of my herb garden.   Beyond him you can see white snow on the lawn.

UPDATE:  Kelley (Southlakes Mom) sent me a link to a great National WildLife article: The Humingbirds of Winter.