dirty birds

Category: dribblings

woody15 
His pretty red head is all dirty.

woody14 

This female was flying back and forth from an oak tree to her secret tree nest, which was in a dead-looking tree. She did this approx. one million times.

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What is this hawk doing?

Category: dribblings

hawk29 

He’s all puffed out and from a distance I thought it was going to be a turkey in a tree.

Usually when they’re perched on something they;re all tucked in and sleek.

Drying his feathers? Maybe? Trying to impress a girl?

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whatchoolookin’at?

Category: dribblings

hawk26 

i saw no hawks today at Snake Bite Pond, really boring morning walk. but on the drive home I saw this guy on a wire and turned around to get this pic. I wanted to get closer, but the highway (and traffic) made it impossible. At first his head was facing front, but I think it heard my camera and he turned his head.

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halloween hawk

Category: dribblings

hawk22 
Mom and I saw this awesome hawk this afternoon at Snake Bite Pond. I got some good shots of it, but the afternoon light was all weird and shadowy, like it does. The sky was that great October blue sky.

I think it’s a red-tailed hawk, even though the tail isn’t red. I was hoping it was a prairie falcon, but they’re more of a west coast/midwest bird.

Those claws are fierce, yo.

***

in other news: last week Mr. Fleegan and I actually saw a snake at Snake Bite Pond. It was very long and black. It was slithering across the path and when it saw us it zoomed across into the woods so fast!

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The Rise and Immediate Fall of O-neg, the Blood Queen

Category: dribblings

Several weeks ago my pal Suzie had a blood drive at the Lutheran church. A couple of days before the event I had already decided that I wouldn’t donate any blood because I’d never done it before and it seemed like a really gross and painful idea. Suzie didn’t really want to give blood either, but she was going to be a brave one and do it. Bully for her. She’s awesome.

So the day before the event I was talking to my other pal, Jenara, about the blood drive and she says, “Oh when is it, I can try to give blood in another week or two.”

“you give blood?”

“oh sure, all the time.”

“like, on purpose?”

“yes.”

“have you ever fainted?”

“yes. just about every time.”

“what? you get sick every time and you STILL give blood?”

“well, yeah.”

Her cavalier attitude about the whole thing made me feel like a weenie.

So you bet your ass I hauled over to the blood drive the next day and donated a bag of blood. (how much is it, anyway? they call it a unit? a pint?)

I did not pass out or faint or spew up my guts, but towards the end I did feel kinda bad. and wicked thirsty. but hey! blood! donated!

When I got back in the hall some friends were there and they were all, “Hey! You did- oh my gosh are you okay?”

“YES. I’M FINE! ISN’T THIS GREAT?”

“What? Why don’t you sit-”

“LOOK! SNACKS! IS THIS CHAIR FOR ME? THIS IS GREAT! THANK YOU!”

“You’re awfully pale, lets-”

“YEAH WHY? ISN’T THIS GREAT? ARE THERE ANY CRACKERS I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM NOW.”

I’m not sure if it’s a typical reaction, this loquacious, loud-talking, is she drunk? reaction, but that’s how it seemed to affect me.

Anyway I waited all this time to blog about it because they have to test your blood first, and I thought what if I brag about how awesome I am for giving blood, and then the test comes back positive for Gypsy blood, or something even worse? And then people would be all, “Hey you gave blood! Good on you! When are you going to do it again?”

And I’d have to be all, “Never. They don’t want my filthy Roma blood.”

And they’d be all, “Oh. That explains your clothes and earrings and the fact that you just picked my pocket.”

And I’d be all, “Sorry. It’s in my blood.”

[please note: If you’re wondering if I’m actually racist towards Gypsies, I was wondering the same thing.]

Yesterday I recieved a letter from the American Red Cross that says, “YAY!  Your blood is clean! Thanks for your blood! Here’s a donor card with your name on it! You can give blood again in three weeks! Do it! We need it! Did you know that only 30% of first time donors give blood again? Don’t be one of those pussies in the 70%, okay?”
I’m paraphrasing, but you get the idea.

Also, I did not know what sort of blood I had. So I was keen to find out, and was hoping that I had the Magic Blood of the Universal Donor. And if I had the Magic Blood of the Universal Donor? YOU WOULD NEVER HEAR THE END OF IT. EVER. I would have become insufferable. my friends would talk to each other all, “Oh my gosh, have you talked to Jaimie lately?”

“oh. You mean She Of The Magic Blood?”

“God!”

“I know. What a freak.”

“Does she really expect everyone to start calling her O-neg, the Blood Queen?”

“You have to ask?”

“Ugh, you’re right. If she starts demanding tribute I’m going to kill her.”

“oh. well. If that crazy bitch calls me a peasant one more time? You won’t have to.”

“It would have almost been worth it if her blood had come back Gypsy.”

“Yeah. Almost.”

“Has anyone ever made this big of a deal about their blood type?”

“Other than O-neg, the Blood Queen you mean?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“How long is this going to last?”

“Not sure, maybe as little as a week. Of course, if she gives blood every 8 weeks? We’re all doomed.”

Lucky for you and the rest of humanity, I have not been blessed with the Magic Blood of the Universal Donor. I am instead, O+.

I feel the need to let you know  that it seems to be The Most Common Blood in All the Land. But it’s also like having half-magic blood as O+ can be donated to all of the other positive blood types. (right? do i have that right?)

But half-magic is practically like Gypsy magic so, I dunno if there’s bragging rights there or not.

probably not.

Two things I can’t help thinking about after writing this:

1. O-neg, the Blood Queen would have been AWESOME and

2. If you capitalize the word Gypsy, is it then an ethnic slur? Like, if it’s lowercase, gypsy, is it just a general term for nomadic types?

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Between Summer’s Longing and Winter’s End by Leif GW Persson

Category: 50 Books

This book is supposed to be great. It says so right on the cover. It reads: “Reminiscent of Henning Mankell and Stieg Larsson in it’s toughness… worthy of Ingmar Bergman – but with lots more guns. -Kirkus”

Well, I’m on page 117 and so far it’s a COMPLETE BORE and there is not a SINGLE likable character, except maybe the dead guy. No kidding, a hundred pages in and only ONE thing has actually happened. I know that this book is supposed to be a fictionalization of the Olaf Palme murder, but so far I’m getting nothing but tedious exposition about dickheaded police officers. It is awful.

I’m hoping there’s a payoff for all of this, but I’m afraid that for now I’m putting the book away. I’ll come back to it later.
Or maybe never.

We’ll see.

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Again with the Yellowhammer

Category: dribblings

northernflicker03 

The damn things are skittish. It probably doesn’t help that I’ve got the dog with me on these bird walks. BUT STILL.

Dear Woodpeckers,

Would you just chill out? No one is going to rape you, okay?
Ugh, the ego on you.

Sincerely,

Jaimie

Yellowhammer indeed. He’s got more red on him than yellow.

stupid bird.

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Living Dead Guy

Category: dribblings

zombiejimmy01 

We were bored and the halloween make-up was burning a hole in Mr. Fleegan’s pocket.

That is one smokin’ hot zombie.

I tried to get one of him doing a Thriller pose (you know the one) but he was phoning it in.

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Muddin’.

Category: dribblings

roxie101710 
Roxie got too close to the edge of Snake Bite Pond and slid into the mud. This is what we get for breaking the “Keep All Dogs on a Leash” rule. She was so happy to get to run around (there were no other park patrons or dogs), but the mud was stinky.

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Hawk Blog IV

Category: dribblings

hawk13 
I don’t know what this kind is either.  But it was HUGE.

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