All posts by littlejailbird

Lifelong Minnesotan. Favorite thing to do is wander around outside, taking pictures of beautiful, often overlooked, things.
The Baboon Congress

Tick, Tick, Tick…

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Today’s post comes from littlejailbird.

As some of you know, I recently spent a few days in the hospital. It took over a week after my release to start feeling somewhat normal.

The cause of all this was a couple tick bites. Such a small insect to cause so much illness. So much hinged on some small ifs. If I had stuck to the path…if I had put on tick repellent…if I had checked for ticks immediately….I would probably be now blissfully unaware of the fact that I had dodged a bullet. But I did none of those things and when the symptoms started, I kept thinking it was a one-day bug (pun intended)…then a two-day bug, then a three-day bug, and then I finally remembered that I had found a couple ticks on my leg several days before and that I better check if I had Lyme disease or something.

A trip to Urgent Care, then to the E.R., then admission to the hospital. I was hooked up to an I.V., both to battle my dehydration and to get antibiotics (three kinds!) into me. I was very sick. Along with other symptoms, my white blood and platelet counts were so low that the doctors were very concerned. I had lots of blood drawn for various tests. It was the weekend and the lab that could give some answers about tick-borne illnesses was not in-house – which meant the results would be slower to be received than the tests for other things.

Finally, on Tuesday, the lab came through with an answer: Erlichiosis. A tick-borne illness that, the doctor informed me, was worse than Lyme disease, but totally curable with the right medicine. Once I started the medicine, and once my white blood counts went up slightly, I was released from the hospital to complete my cure at home, but with weekly lab work to monitor my white blood and platelet counts and at least two follow-up doctor appointments.

And why did I go off the beaten path in the woods of Duluth? To take some pictures, of course. I don’t know if the pictures were worth all the suffering I experienced, but I’ll let you be the judge of whether they were worth shooting disregarding the subsequent suffering.

 

Tell us about a small act or a small omission of yours that had significant consequences.

 

 

 

The Baboon Congress

A Way of Seeing, part 2: A Happy Accident

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This post is by littlejailbird

I took three photography classes from August to December last year. In Digital Photography I, we spent several months learning such basics as exposure, depth of field, focal length, ISO, shutter speed and motion, and lens focal length. For our portfolio (final project), we had a lot more freedom than we did for our previous assignments. Our teacher gave us a list of 11 categories and we were to turn in 10 photos, one for each category minus one. Within these categories, it was totally up to us what we would shoot and how.

One cold day in November, I went out to shoot some pictures for an assignment in another class. I saw a pond, across the street from Cedar Lake, and stopped there. While setting up the tripod for the shots for that assignment, the pattern of the ice that was beginning to form at the edge of the pond caught my eye. So, I took a few shots of that, then went back to shooting for my assignment.

When I looked at my shots that evening, I saw that the shots I took at the pond for my assignment did not turn out well, but the pictures of the ice were pretty nice. But they didn’t work for any assignments in any of my classes, so I set them aside.

As time went on, I was having trouble getting all the shots I needed for my portfolio. I had 9 of the 10 shots, but everything I tried for the tenth one was not up to the standard I wanted for a final portfolio. So I asked the teacher if I could use Nature as one of my categories instead of his assigned categories… and he said yes. So, I picked one of the shots of the ice on the pond for my tenth shot.

Nature

Interestingly, when I got feedback from my teacher, the ice picture was one of his top three favorite pictures in my portfolio. And when we viewed the final portfolio pictures in class, that same picture received  more favorable comments from the other students than any of my other pictures.

I find it intriguing that some of my best shots are taken when I’m looking for something else.

When have you had a happy accident?

These photos are 8 of the 10 portfolio shots I turned in for my class. I left out the two shots of people in order to protect the privacy of the subjects.

The Baboon Congress

A Way of Seeing, Part One

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This post is by littlejailbird.

Many years ago, one morning I came across some large spider webs that were covered in dew and were sparkling in the sun. As was my wont, I went crazy taking pictures of this somewhat ordinary thing, that looked beautiful to me. As I was doing this, a friend of mine walked up. He watched me, and when I was finished, he smiled and asked, “What are you taking pictures of?”

I was stunned. How could he not have seen this beautiful thing?

That’s partly why I like taking pictures. Sometimes I notice things that other people don’t see and photography gives me a way to capture some of those things. It’s easy to see the beauty of a sunset, but there are so many other beautiful things to experience if we would just slow down and look. When I first started photography classes this past fall, I had doubts that I could find beautiful things to shoot if I wasn’t up on the North Shore or some such place. However, I have found something about walking around with a camera causes me to notice beautiful things wherever I am, even here in the city.

Click on any of the images to see it in a larger window.

I enjoyed seeing other students’ photography in my classes because often they saw things that I didn’t see, or we saw the same thing, but with different perspectives. Everyone has a different way of seeing and I find delight in seeing what others see.

These photos I share here are some of my old shots, from a long time ago. The spider web shot is the same one mentioned in my story above. I will be sharing some of my more recent shots in another blog post someday.

What do you notice that others don’t see?

 

The Baboon Congress

How Do I Hate Squirrels? Let Me Count the Ways.

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Today’s post comes from Edith.

Jim’s comment “The squirrels around here seem to be unusually pesky” got me thinking about how much I hate squirrels. South Minneapolis squirrels seem to be especially hateable. People who say squirrels are “cute” either are crazy or they haven’t seen the squirrels in my neighborhood.

When I grew vegetables in my yard, it was an endless source of frustration to see tomatoes get almost to the point of perfect ripeness and then find it lying on the driveway with a squirrel bite taken out of it. The thought of eating a tomato that had been handled by one of those rodents deterred me from ever cutting off the bitten part; my compost pile was the only thing that benefitted from the squirrel leavings (and, actually, the compost pile didn’t benefit, either – see below).

I now only grow herbs and fruits and flowers in my yard. Squirrels like to dig in the planter boxes on the front porch or any freshly turned dirt and also do things like eat tulips off stems before they open their blooms. But at least they aren’t eating my food.

One time a squirrel got into my house. I’m not sure how…but you haven’t seen pure craziness until you’ve seen a squirrel dashing around your house at full speed.

We’ve all heard about how squirrels rob bird feeders of the bird food. If you have an open compost pile, to which you add food scraps, in your yard in south Mpls, you are basically operating a free restaurant for squirrels.

151028_001

But the real reason I hate squirrels? They hate me. Here’s proof. Those of you who also live in the city of Mpls know that the big gray garbage bins the city provides us for our trash are pretty tough. But they’re not tough enough for south Mpls squirrels. Our diabolical neighborhood squirrels chewed a squirrel-sized hole in the lid of my trash bin. They would then go inside the bin and enjoy snacks 151028_002(this was before I composted most of my food scraps). Then, I out I came, blissfully unaware of any danger, with a bag of trash to put in the bin. I threw open the lid – and SHAZZZAAAMMM out flew anywhere from one to three squirrels in my face. They ran away, laughing hysterically at my scream, and plotting when they can do that again.

I learned to kick the trash bin several times and then stand back before I lifted the lid. After the squirrels escaped, I gave it another kick, then waited to make sure they were all gone before I carefully lifted the lid and tossed in the bag. But sometimes in my usual spacey way, I would forget to kick – and once again the squirrels would enjoy their dominance over me.

What “cute” object or animal drives you crazy?

 

The Baboon Congress

Raspberries Take Over the World

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Today’s guest post comes from Edith.

A few years ago, VS had a guest blog post  on her wildly successful straw bale garden. I was inspired by that to try my hand at growing a few vegetables in straw bales this summer.

I have tried growing vegetables before, but have been defeated by monster weeds and various city woes. The book about straw bale gardening that I read assured me that all my previous problems would be nonexistent with straw bale gardening and I would be overwhelmed with a huge vegetable harvest.

I think those are carrots growing sideways
this pepper plant is growing sideways out of the straw bale
the entirety of the green bean harvest
I think there are beets in here somewhere
I can hardly get to the broccoli

In one respect the book was correct. All my previous problems were nonexistent but I ended up with some different problems instead. I had chosen what I thought was a good spot for the bales: a wide strip of land bordered by a fence on one side and the raspberry patch on the other side. From my experience with raspberries, I was pretty sure that the canes would not spread as far as the straw bales until next year and that this was a good way to use what would otherwise be a weed patch, not only keeping the weeds down until the raspberries took over that spot next year, but also providing me with homegrown veggies. I followed the directions for prepping the bales and everything looked like it would work just like the book said it would. I planted some seeds and a few plants and started waiting for the harvest.

Well, the raspberries took one look at the straw bales and declared war. While they don’t seem to have moved much at all in the other direction, they have grown up right next to the straw bales, and hard rains have beaten them down until they are falling down every which way. The straw bales, aided by the heavy rains, took one look at the raspberries and literally fell apart. The seeds I planted did not germinate very well and the plants are growing sideways because what was the top of the bale is now the side. Lovely. I think I’ll just stick to berries and herbs next year.
When have your grandiose plans crashed down around you?

The Baboon Congress, Travel

Feelin’ Groovy in Portland, OR (littlejailbird’s trip, part 2)

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Today’s post is from littlejailbird.

Feelin’ Groovy in Portland, Oregon (littlejailbird’s trip, part 20

Dear Steve and Molly,

Thank you both for the wonderful day in Portland (March 26). It was a golden day from start to finish. Near the end of our time together, when the ice cream server asked how my day was going, I realized with a shock that there wasn’t a single thing I would have changed from the time I woke up until that moment in the ice cream shop (and it held true until I went to bed that night).

After three days and three nights on the train, it was blissful to be outdoors and to be able to walk around. I started my day with a walk to a breakfast place, then another walk to Mt. Tabor Park. Then it was time to be chauffeured around by you.

Steve had told me earlier that the day was going to be all about me and what I wanted to do. I am still in shock from someone telling me that – and then actually doing it. From visiting the world’s largest bookstore (Powell’s) to a buffet lunch at an Indian restaurant to visiting a park and walking around the waterfront to going out for ice cream, there is nothing I would have changed. I know that you thought the food at the restaurant wasn’t as good at it usually is, but you hadn’t been eating train food and snack food like almonds and protein bars for 3 days. It tasted good to me!

Of course, the weather cooperated in giving us such an amazing, sunshiny day, cool at the beginning and end and warm in between; and wherever I looked I saw green, growing things – a far cry from the dead browns I had left in Minnesota. It would have been difficult for me to feel grumpy with a day like that, but I suspect that I would have had a fine time even if it had been cold and drizzly, because you two were very satisfactory companions. I hope you had half as good time as I did. I told the ice cream server, “I’m having a good day!” but I fear that I communicated it better to her than I did to you. So, I’m telling you now: I had a good day – a magical day, a golden day, a day full of simple pleasures from start to finish. Thank you.

Your friend,

littlejailbird
What are your simple pleasures?

The Baboon Congress

Mistaken Identity

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Today’s guest post comes from littlejailbird.

A long time ago I was witness to a case of mistaken identity that came close to having disastrous results. This took place at the first home I remember living as a child. I was still quite young, 5 years old or so, I think, and had two older sisters and one younger brother.

Cat_in_weeds

Our family had close relationships  with several of our neighbors. On this particular day, we – my mom and us kids – had been somewhere with another neighbor family. They dropped us off at our house and as we walked up to our front door, we all saw it – an animal in the flower bed that was next to the front steps. My brother, who is 2 ½ years younger than I am, toddled towards this animal, calling “Kitty, kitty, kitty” and holding out his hand.

Well. This creature did bear some resemblance to a cat – a long-haired black and white cat – but it definitely wasn’t what any of the rest of us would call a kitty.

All of us girls were struck dumb with shock and horror, because we knew what could happen if our brother tried to pet the animal. I was too scared to move but luckily my mom was not. I rarely saw my mother running, but she did then – and the sight of my mom sprinting and snatching up my brother before he could get closer to this creature would have made me laugh out loud, if I hadn’t been so frightened.

Striped_skunk_Pepe

Somehow we managed to all get in the house without anything disastrous happening. Later, I heard that the cute black and white animal was probably rabid, so who knows what would have happened if my brother had managed to get close to this “kitty.” Oddly enough, now my brother has a special way with cats, but I’m pretty sure he knows exactly what is and what isn’t a kitty and will never again mistake a skunk for a cat.

(skunk photo: Kevin Collins / CC-BY 2.0)

When have you been involved in or witnessed a terrible case of mistaken identity?

The Baboon Congress

First Fruits

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Today’s guest post comes from Edith.

On July 8, 2013, I tasted my first raspberry.

Well, not my first raspberry ever. Not even my first raspberry this year – that is, if you count frozen raspberries that you buy in a bag at the grocery store. It was the first raspberry I picked and ate in my backyard this year.

Fresh_raspberries

Last year, 2012, was very hot and very dry. I seemed to spend hours every week moving sprinklers around, trying to get enough moisture to my poor raspberry plants, as well as the herbs, currant and gooseberry bushes, and flowers. It didn’t work. Normally I get a nice summer crop of raspberries and a seemingly unending and unlimited supply of fall raspberries starting in late August or early September and continuing until November, unless there is a severe frost earlier. Last year, not only was I cruelly disappointed by my “crop” of black currants (a couple handfuls at most) and gooseberries (three. yes, three gooseberries), but the always-dependable raspberries did not do what they’ve always done. The summer crop was sort of okay, but the fall crop was small and pitiful. Normally what I put in the freezer lasts quite a few months, but the small amount I had last year was gone before Thanksgiving.

So today when I spied a few red berries, I picked them and popped them in my mouth.

Man! The sweetness! The flavor! Such a sweet and tangy, lush, juicy explosion of everything that makes a raspberry perfect.

There is nothing like a raspberry that you pick and eat while still warm from the sun (although the ones I pick on a nippy morning in late October might be even better). And looking at the amount of raspberries that are still green and hard, I should be enjoying them for a few weeks to come, until they take some time off, and then come back with even more abundance in the fall.

I look forward to the first taste of raspberries all winter and spring and today it was everything I had hoped for.

What’s your favorite fresh-picked food?

The Baboon Congress

Unnatural Disaster

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Today’s guest post comes from Edith.

The other day I was having a laid back day at home, alone except for the dog and cat. At lunchtime I was just a little hungry, so I made some popcorn with my new Whirley-Pop® stovetop popcorn pan that I had recently acquired from Aldi. Three minutes on the stove and I could enjoy perfect popcorn, lightly salted, with a sprinkle of brewer’s yeast for nutrition. Easy. Turn off the stove burner and munch away.

Delicious!

The hot drink I had made earlier was now cold so I reheated it in the microwave, which is above the stove. I keep a plastic “splatter cover” in the microwave to use when reheating food on plates—to keep the heating food from spattering all over the microwave. Since I didn’t need it for this, I set it on the counter directly to the left of the burner I had used for making popcorn.

Then it was upstairs with my drink to check email and the Trail. As usual, I got distracted by the internet and was at the computer for a good while, blissfully unaware of my surroundings. Then I heard the smoke alarm going off! Good grief! What on earth???

Whenever the smoke alarm goes off, the dog freaks out and demands to go outside away from that terrible noise (she will then lie down by the back gate, as far away from that horrible sound as she can get, and refuse to come back indoors for hours). So as I rushed madly downstairs to see what was causing the smoke alarm to go off, the dog was rushing down even more madly, desperate to get out of this house. The cat, meanwhile, was rushing madly upstairs to get away from the noise and from those two idiotic creatures (the dog and I) who were making as much noise as a herd of elephants and acting as rationally as a couple of chickens with their heads cut off.

As I ran past the kitchen, I noticed flames…and a terrible smell. After letting the dog out, I grabbed a broom to use to shut off the alarm. Naturally the hook system from which the broom was hanging chose that moment to be stubborn and not easily give up possession of the broom. After a little tussle, I separated them—hooks crashing to the floor—pounded on the off button with the broom handle—oh, blissful silence—and within seconds was in the kitchen to confront the fire.

The plastic cover I had placed on the counter was burning. Obviously, I had not turned off the burner…not to mention, the plastic cover was a little too close to that burner. First thing to do was put the fire out. So after turning off the burner, I immediately picked up the plastic object where the flames hadn’t reached yet and brought it over to the sink to douse with water. Big mistake. I obviously didn’t realize that even if I didn’t actually touch the flames, that it was still extremely hot.

Burning hot, in fact. Owie!

Cool water running over my hands. Then plastic cover dumped on the back porch. Windows opened. Fan in the attic window blowing out so fresh air will come in. Everything’s all better…but, wait, what are those blisters on my fingers? And why do they feel like they are on fire?

When have you made a disaster out of something simple?

The Baboon Congress

Herding Cats

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Today’s guest post comes from Edith.

I’m sure most of you have heard the phrase “herding cats” referring to “a task that is extremely difficult or impossible to do, due to one or more variables being in flux and uncontrollable” according to Wikipedia.

Well, in my house, there lives a Sheltie aka a Shetland Sheepdog. Shelties are derived from dogs used in the Shetland Isles for herding and protecting sheep. I don’t have any sheep, but when we first got our dog, youngest daughter was still fairly young, and occasionally the puppy would try to “herd” her. Dog didn’t try to herd the larger members of the household and now that youngest daughter is well along in her teens, there isn’t anybody around here small enough to herd.

Until late February 2011, that is. That is when the dog found a CAT in our yard. Being excitable, she barked incessantly until I came out to investigate. Long story short, the cat is still here and is now a member of the family. The dog and the cat sometimes play with each other, chasing and wrestling, with both doing pretty equal amounts of chasing. But sometimes the cat is very definite that he does NOT want to play with the dog. But as he walks around the house, the dog decides he should be going somewhere else…so she herds him. Or tries to. She tries to nose him in the “right” direction, but the cat just keeps going where he wants to go and pays no attention to this bigger animal trying to push him in a different direction.

It’s quite amusing watching the dog put so much effort into something that is so futile. That is, it’s funny until I start to feel like it’s a metaphor for my life.

What have you done, or tried to do, that you could compare to herding cats?