Sakura in Tokyo from the air.
Sue Jackson passed away earlier this year. This is why she was beloved to the world of automata.
Something I never really thought about seeing: wild pigs. They are everywhere here, though they are shy, so you don’t see them often. A few days ago, we got to see a passel of piglets, out without their parents. Sneaky buggers.
They ran into the woods when we pulled up in the parking lot beside the grassy area, but the Spousal Unit said to wait, they’d be back. And a few minutes later, they were.
Here’s a little video:
Little Blue Herons don’t start out blue. For the first year, they’re white. We caught one at that awkward in-between stage. He was adorkable.
Made some really good quesadillas last night. Should have taken pics. Didn’t. But here’s the recipe, mostly because I don’t want to forget it:
HINT: The recipe will make five, but I only made eight. The leftover filling made a killer frittata the next morning.
Sacred Harp is some of the earliest American folk music. Glorious, harmonic, a capella yelling. It is being revived, of all places, in Ireland.
The immortal Alan Lomax recorded a bit in the 40s:
In the 80s, Sacred Harp was performed in African-American churches by the Wiregrass Singers (video starts a minute in, after the preaching about saving our young people):
Finally, here’s a short documentary, featuring the Sacred Cow Harmogenizers.
Bet you could do this at home.
And he’s total mod design inspiration:
Just grabbed a bunch of photos off the car camera. We keep the one with the better zoom in the glove box. We have had the pleasure to meet many new critters this spring:
These are the Traffic Cranes, so called because they are usually near or in the road. Papa is outside the frame. This was taken on April 1. We’ll see them again. Note how they come up to Mama’s knees.
The Spousal Unit spotted a Great Blue Heron nest near his work. It’s way at the tippy-top of a tree. We’ve watched these two grow up, until now one of them has left the nest.
In our “backyard”–the golf course behind our house.
Last year we met Nigel No-Friends, a lonely limpkin who hung out by the pond where the SU works. Earlier this year, he found himself a sweetheart. We call her Mrs. Nige, and hope she isn’t insulted that we define her in such a non-feminist manner. We’ve been waiting for a baby from them. They were a little late, and only produced one, but we finally got to see the tiny fuzzbutt.
We’re pretty sure these are the Traffic Cranes again. Papa isn’t around. It’s been about six weeks, and the babies are getting big! We watched these two for a while. The one on the right kept trying to chase her sibling away so she could get some grubs from Mom. The other one was kind of a dick and kept butting back in. Kids.
I have a good excuse: we had a beardie in the hospital. Our girl Portia had a prolapse we couldn’t fix after her last clutch (infertile–we are not breeding her). Turns out, that wasn’t all that was wrong. She had a terrible downturn, and we rushed her to a hospital in Tampa, an hour away. She had egg yolk peritonitis, a condition from which few beardies recover. We expected to say goodbye. The tough little bugger thwarted those expectations by getting better. She was in the hospital for a almost a week. We brought her home Friday so she could get stronger in a more comfortable place. Some time this week, she goes in for surgery, so we’re still not out of the woods.
Think happy beardie thoughts for us. Blogging will resume when my nerves have settled.
(cross-posted to spooky moon)
I wish she had some stones up in her Etsy shop, because they sure are pretty. She has a way with color.
This looks like kind of a pain, but if you have a bunch of these little pots around, it could be a project.
Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.