We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
In the Northeast US, now is the time to clean out, or put out, your Bluebird houses for the Eastern Bluebird. I have no advice regarding the Western Bluebird, but it's probably similar.
If you don't have the sort of habitat that Bluebirds like, the houses will likely be inhabited by Wrens, House Sparrows, Tree Swallows (if there is any water nearby), Chickadees - or mice.
The point of Bluebird houses is Bluebirds. They will only nest in holes, and there's lots of competition for holes because lots of critters who need holes are not able to make them.
What's Bluebird habitat? They do not live in the woods, and they don't live in suburbia unless it's 5+ acre zoning. They like woodland edges, hedge rows, meadows with fences and large (5+ acres) lawns, large gardens, old apple trees. They do not mind living with humans, and often seem to like having barns and sheds around. To make it simple, if you see them hanging around in April, it means it's the right area for them. You can't really attract them - they have to want to be there in the first place. Like their competitor Tree Swallows, they like their nest boxes in open spaces, not so much on trees but on barns seems OK.
Another factoid about Bluebirds is that, if you have one pair around, there are probably more, and they do not seem to mind sharing an area: you can put up two boxes per acre, maybe more. People build Bluebird Trails in exurban, semi-rural, and rural areas because everybody likes to see them.
At the Farm, I have my own Bluebird Trail of around 20 nest boxes, mostly nailed to fence posts, some to utility poles. Generally about half of mine are used by Bluebirds, half by other things. In a good year, Bluebirds can raise two broods. Snakes are the main predators of nestlings, so metal poles are probably best but I don't bother much about that.
I recommend the one pictured, via Best Nest. The extra piece of wood is to deter predators. Easy to make them yourself, though. Just make the hole the right size (1 1/2" diam), and place them properly. When I was young, my brother and I made them on an assembly line, using Dad's table saw and the free pine scraps from the lumber yard. If you do, don't paint or stain them. Birds prefer plain wood, rough and un-sanded preferably.
This week, we'll do the sorts of things which are tough to do, require exertion of some sort, self-discipline, and can be frustrating or exasperating, but in which the process itself contains gratification as well as a (hopefully) somewhat gratifying result. In other words, a mix of intrinsic and delayed gratification.
Here are a few (or maybe most) of mine:
- Practicing piano - Tennis - Painting a picture - Practicing my firearm skills - Working at my job - Complex travel planning - diving deep into prayer - cooking a perfect and loving meal - Sailboat racing - horse jumping - singing in the church choir - yard work, planting, pruning, garden design - reading fairly serious books - life is too short for fluff - fly fishing - it is fly-fishing week here at Maggie's - investing my money - taking a long run on a late April morning with the dog - raising kids
What are some of the things you find difficult, frustrating, or exertional, but take pleasure in the process too, not just in the completion or the result?
Spring Peepers. They aren't called Hyla crucifer anymore, but I stick with the old name. They are the first musicians in the spring chorus emanating from the vernal pools, swamps, and ponds at night as soon as the ice begins to melt.
People rarely see them because they are so tiny, and nocturnal. After breeding, they leave the water as do Wood Frogs, Grey Tree Frogs, Leopard Frogs, and of course the toads.
Those two pics are Spring Peepers. They are usually grey-brown, but I have seen them turn green on a leaf.
It's worth living near a marsh in the Eastern US just for the two months of free nachtmusik from our amphibian friends. By mid-May, the toads and larger frogs will join the chorus.
Here are the frogs and toads of the Eastern US. Mostly northeastern. I've never seen a Mink Frog, but we have all of the others at the Farm. The Grey Tree frogs make a racket, but they are rarely seen because their camo on trees and bushes changes to match the bark. All you can see are their eyes.
I think it's fun to identify them all by their Spring mating calls, especially because (like owls) you rarely see them. This site gives a brief description and a recording of their individual calls.
I have come to think that it's not so much about ideology and abandoning the canon of mankind's works over the past 10,000 years, but it's more about marketing to the kids. It's disgusting, and it saddens me.
If the U of C were in Big Ten football, they could and probably would keep their core and their soul. They are selling their soul for a bowl of lentils. It's greed.
Marxism is back, and Thomas Piketty’s new book “Capital in the Twenty-First Century” might be its new Bible. But both
Piketty and the Marxist movement miss the real danger of inequality.
Resegregation in the American South - Sixty years after Brown v. Board of Education, the schools in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, show how separate and unequal education is coming back.
When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body. 2Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb 3and they asked each other, "Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?"
4But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. 5As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed.
6"Don't be alarmed," he said. "You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7But go, tell his disciples and Peter, 'He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.' "
8Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.
I cannot hear this one without tearing up. We ask non-believer and other-believer readers to be tolerant of all of our Holy Week posts: it's just my "spiritual orientation," ya dig? In my blood. At Maggie's, all spiritual orientations are welcome.
Everybody has his own spiritual orientation, like it or not. It's human. Christians orient themselves to Christ, who we see as the Messiah who was promised, our North Star, rock, redeemer and salvation. As apes, there may be only a little good in us, but we can be changed. That's the offer. Take it or leave it. Speaking only for myself, I don't care at all about eternal life but I care very much about the richness and depth of my life today.
Today is Holy Saturday for the Catholics, but we Protestant Yankee New Englanders just call it "yard chore Saturday" or Trout Fishing Saturday.
I was thinking about how the term "pious" has become an almost derogatory, if not derogatory, term, which took me to Euthyphro. Never get in a debate with Socrates expecting to win, but always get in one if you want to be forced to re-think what you think.
From Justification, Sanctification, and Grace, from Dr. Bob:
I recall a conversation I had some years ago with a young man in Britain, in the old Compuserve forum days. He, an atheist/agnostic, said something to the effect of, "All religions are the same, there's basically a set of rules to follow, and if you obey them, you get rewarded by going to heaven."
And I agreed with him (to his surprise) with one caveat: that Christianity is the one exception to his otherwise astute observation. In Christianity, it's not about doing something different, it's about being something different.
So how does that work? And aren't Christians all about being good, following the Bible, going to church, and condemning and judging those who don't?
Yeah, all too often we are. Sad but true. But that's not really how it's supposed to work, you know.
Christianity is not merely another framework of moral codes by which to live. It is not comprised solely of the teachings of a charismatic leader, urging compliance to please or placate God or promulgating some hidden wisdom. It asserts at its very heart an outrageous claim: that those who relinquish their right to self-centered autonomy by submitting to God through the specific and exclusive portal of Christ will become judicially guiltless before their Creator. It further claims, perhaps even more outrageously, by this act to re-create the person so submitting, in a manner so thorough and profound that the individual can no longer be thought of as the same person who existed prior to that moment of choice and submission.
Balsamic Dreams: A Short But Self-Important History of the Baby Boomer Generation, by Joe Queenan. Boomers will see themselves almost too clearly in this book. Laugh or cry? Your choice, but the book's mirror could cause a boomer to want to off himself due to self-disgust.
I'll start with an introduction to a wonderful gentleman, personality and writer named Gordon Wickstrom. I came to meet Gordon at a fly-fishing trade show when he, as a member of the wandering press stopped by to check out our new concept in fly rods. He's grown to be an excellent friend. Gordon has published two books and writes a newsletter, now a blog, and I find his "take" on things to frequently be just a "twist" away from most of what we read these days about fly-fishing (theatre, politics, music and a great many other things). I think that Maggie's readers would likely enjoy many of his perspectives. Gordon is retired from a long and successful career as a professor of Literature and Theatre at Franklin and Marshall College (he's a master Shakespearean actor and director as well). He lives in his original hometown of Boulder, Colorado and is a frequent contributor to The American Fly Fisher magazine, the journal of the American Museum of Fly Fishing. To initiate that introduction, following are links to two columns he's written - as a sample of his work.
Following is a link to a recent piece in Gordon Wickstrom's current blog - then another, as an introduction, and also a partial quote I lifted from another of his essays.
" .......As the snow keeps coming on, let me tell you that a few days ago an old friend sent me an old copy of an old issue of Gray’s Sporting Journal for April/May,1976-- an issue in which I had an essay on catch and release. That was thirty-one years ago. I thought that anglers were not looking hard enough at the ideology of no-kill, and so I should do it for them. As I re-read the essay now, it sounds all right, but the penultimate sentence caught me: pretty much what I believe today, and it’s in connection with my proposal of a sixth, The New Period, in American fly fishing. Here’s that sentence: “Now let us go a-stream more like our fathers-- individual, unself-conscious, unreconstructed, and quiet with our streamcraft and our love more important than our equipage and image.” But how, I wonder, can I both blog and, at the same time, in Walton’s use of Scripture, study to be quiet….? It’s snowing now, those great, beautiful, sloppy spring flakes. For us Westerners they fill the air with promise-- and are superbly quiet.....".
One final thing follows as well ... from my website for Hexagraph I've carried a "philosophy" page, the higlight being a poem you probably know from W B Yeats:
The Song of Wandering Aengus
I went out to the hazel wood, Because a fire was in my head, And cut and peeled a hazel wand, And hooked a berry to a thread. And when white moths were on the wing, And moth-like stars were flickering out, I dropped the berry in the stream, And caught a little silver trout.
When I had laid it on the floor, I went to blow the fire aflame, But something rustled on the floor, And someone called me by my name. It had become a glimmering girl, With apple blossom in her hair, Who called me by my name and ran, And faded through the brightening air.
Though I am old with wandering, Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands. And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
Pic is a sea-run Brown Trout we caught from a stream in Long Islanda couple of years ago. Sea-run trout is a story in itself.
At our little New England Congregational church Lift High The Cross is sung each Lenten Sunday, and that tradition is much-loved. Here's another little church, Episcopal (corrected that) and full of old people, with the hymn. My church is packed with young people and their little kids, making me feel old.
This was my Mom's bird bath, now in its new home in our little entry garden. An heirloom of sorts.
It's big and deep enough to give a kid a bath in it. easily holds 8-10 gallons. Cast iron, too heavy for me to lift even the top alone, much less to seat it into its slots. It has a drain plug in it, and it's decorated with three dragons. The base has a bit of rust damage to the surface. I had to power wash it, spray it with Rustoleum and then with a coat or two of black. A delicate sand-blasting might have been better, but I thought that might be too much for the detailed ornamentation of the base.
It could have been forest green (and maybe used to be), but I went with black to be safe.
Like my Mom, Mrs. BD understands the structural requirements of garden design. Focal points, structured areas, plantings for interest each season, etc. We do gardens.
What is the value of a shot clock in basketball? In terms of keeping the flow and tempo of the game up, it's worth quite a bit. It prevents teams from stalling and keeps fan interest high.
But what is the cost of the shot clock? Is it worth having a clock at all?
Not in certain regions of the country, because the school conferences recognized even something as seemingly inconsequential as a clock may have costs which outweigh their value. It's basic math. Too bad it can't be isn't applied to more policies in our nation.
"When plunder becomes a way of life for a group of men living together in society, they create for themselves in the course of time a legal system that authorizes it and a moral code that glorifies it."
Frederic Bastiat
“To understand the workings of American politics, you have to understand this fundamental law: Conservatives think liberals are stupid. Liberals think conservatives are evil.”
Charles Krauthammer
“The entire north polar ice cap will be gone in 5 years.”
Al Gore on the 13th of December, 2008 (So sorry, Al. It has expanded. Find a fresh new scam, or have you made enough money on that one? Last I heard, it was close to $200 million, which ought to cover your special massage charges including the Happy Endings too.)
Via Am. Thinker, explaining the deep thinking of a Soros employee:
...It’s an outlook that is deeply critical, even skeptical, of systems, models and sedimented language, but is ultimately rooted in worldly faith, rather than skepticism itself.
Letting beings be — trusting them to come forth — it seems to me, is the motivating sensibility of radically progressive activism. It’s a question of faith — in the world, in polar bears, in sea turtles, in pygmy owls, in the authority of poetry and painting, in the rightness of ice that has cooled our planet for 800,000 years and is now coming apart.
What about dinosaurs? And the "rightness of ice"? Ice is never right in a gin Martini but, OK, it is right in a Mint Julip and in a Coke with a lime. The guy sounds psychotic to me. Word salad.
Hardly a crisis, I think. There used to be bison, before that wild camels and all sorts of ungulates in the American West. The Indians killed 'em all except for the bison. What is best? I don't know. The wild horses are eating the food of the cattle.
Bloomberg always wants people to be just like him, like an old-time NY Jewish mother. "It's raining. Put on your rubbers or you'll catch a cold." Otherwise, he'll try to make laws to make you act that way.
Steyn: The slow death of free speech - How the Left, here and abroad, is trying to shut down debate — from Islam and Israel to global warming and gay marriage
In the Northeast US, now is the time to clean out, or put out, your Bluebird houses for the 
A few weeks ago, we did this: 
Does 
Spring Peepers. They aren't called Hyla crucifer anymore, but I stick with the old name. They are the first musicians in the spring chorus emanating from the vernal pools, swamps, and ponds at night as soon as the ice begins to melt. 
pics are Spring Peepers. They are usually grey-brown, but I have seen them turn green on a leaf.
When Lenin 
A view from ye olde fishing club yesterday morning.
Our fishing friend Harry Briscoe of 
The Song of Wandering Aengus
Duke Porn Star Inspires Other Co-Eds to Become Strippers