Category Archives: Pastimes

Your local bird club needs you!

The saying goes that when you really need people, a few seem to turn up. If you have much experience with community groups, you’ll know that it’s the same few people that always turn up… the same few dedicated faces at every board meeting, every event, chairing the empty committee spots, volunteering for yet another project.

My local Audubon chapter has been struggling for volunteers for as long as I can remember. I think someone assigned me a job at the very first program I attended, but I was eager to get involved and to learn about local conservation issues and participate. That doesn’t seem to be the case with a lot of birders. Our chapter has a healthy enough membership, but getting those people who come to the programs and field trips to step up and get involved is just impossible.

A fair number of our membership are excellent and active birders, but their interest ends in the field, it seems. The rest of our membership are people I would never recognize with a pair of binoculars around their necks; in fact I think they come to our monthly programs just for the free snacks afterwards!

I wonder where the young people are, the beginning birders, the people with fresh ideas and energy. Our club needs them. Our volunteers are a dedicated group, with diverse skills and interests, and many have held the same committee chair position for years on end, or served as president multiple times. What happens, though, is that we get tired and frustrated with the lack of support from our membership and then we end up losing those volunteers who care the most about the organization and who do the most work to support it, simply because they’ve burned out.

It happened to me almost; after volunteering to be hospitality chair (to rescue another woman who had been stuck with the job for years) – I found myself doing it and became annoyed after a couple years at being the first to arrive and the last to leave the meetings, cleaning up alone, listening to members complain about the way I made the coffee, etc – pfft! Come early and fix the coffee yourself if you don’t like it! Donate a box of cookies for once! I quit volunteering and became another of those anonymous faces in the crowd at the monthly meetings for a few years. Then my guilt got the better of me and this year I’m the chair for two committees.

Again I’m taking over for two dedicated people who simply got tired of the lack of cooperation from the membership. Funny is that one of my jobs is planning and scheduling the club’s field trips for the year… anyone that knows me at all knows what a poor planner I am. So far, the rest of the board has taken my *fly by the seat of my pants* approach with a good bit of humor; we’ll see how long that will last. My point is that I’m clearly not the best person for the job, but I’m the one willing to do it and if it weren’t me, it would be one of the other people who’s already wearing three different hats, you know?

So… if there’s a local bird or nature club that you care about, please find a way to become involved. Introduce yourself to one of those familiar faces you see at every meeting; maybe the geeky guy who always sets up the slide projector and makes sure the microphone is working, or the lawyer-type lady who brings neat things for the raffle each month, or even the blessed soul who toils away in the kitchen to get the coffee just right for you. Offer to help, maybe. Just once, even. Ask what you can do. We need you.

A day on the river

Okay so… this whole boat thing is kinda novel and the learning curve is pretty steep, too. Sitting here typing, I still feel myself rocking back and forth, kinda like you feel after a day spent rollerskating. Very disconcerting. I almost think I may be seasick. Is that even possible or did I just get too much sun?

😉

Mention a boat and my brother Brian magically appears. Our idea today was to do some crabbing, so Bri found himself in charge of cutting bait, which I learned he’s pretty good at.

I also learned he’s really squeamish about these worms… nasty things he was using for the fishing poles. They made him squirm like a girl. Very funny.

I really need to do something with my hair. Could it maybe stick up in one more different direction?

I was surprised (boo hiss!) to find mute swans on the river…

Nice, though, was this oystercatcher feeding near a sandbar. They are such cool birds. It’s very hard to take pics on a rocking boat… though at this time we were almost stuck on that sandbar.

😉

Have I mentioned that my brother is a total goofball? You’re suppossed to stay in the boat!

So… we didn’t catch many crabs at all, but Bri did the goofy fisherman grin anyway. A bad day fishing…. (you know the rest)

He got the pretty blue claws, but I got this tiny little calico crab that didn’t even try to bite me.

😉

I lifted 325,719 lbs. and all I got was this lousy t-shirt!

It’s a slow day here in blogland, so I’ll use the excuse to toot my own horn a bit. Indulge me.

😉

I’ve been going to the Y for months now and have actually (gack!) learned to enjoy exercising. I love the Y. I’d thought of joining a gym in the past, but could never get past the idea of all that spandex and lycra and all those muscleheads and really skinny blondes. Not my sort of scene. Not to mention what you have to pay to a gym for the torture of lifting weights or taking a spinning class or whatever.

I looked into the local Y (mostly for yoga classes) and found that they offered a really great discount for volunteer firemen and their families. Bingo! $31 a month and I have use of the whole place and the pools and the hot tub and whatever classes I like whenever I can manage to drag myself there.

I was really, really good about going for months: 4 or 5 times a week plus two evening yoga classes. Then the weather got nice and I found other things to do. I’m the sort of person that has to be regimented about this type of thing; any slacking off, even just a little bit, leads to a total collapse of my commitment. That’s pretty much what happened for most of June and July. I was lucky to get there twice a week.

But the Y is smart. If you’ll allow it, they’ll send you congratulatory emails when you’re making progress or nastygrams when you’re slacking off. I’d been getting these nice emails telling me that I’d lifted the equivalent of 5 African Elephants in the past month and burned enough calories to eat 3 ice-cream sundaes. Then I got a couple of those nastygrams that intimated that I’d not been trying very hard and that left me feeling like a lazy bum. So I started going again, every day, and now I’m feeling really great about being committed to it again. Plus, physically, I feel so much better! There were those days, in my first week back, that every muscle in me ached, but that only lasts so long.

That sort of inclusiveness, regardless of your level of fitness or commitment, is part of what I love so much about the place. There’s senior citizens there and a musclehead or two, plus that awful grunting guy I’d mentioned before, and ordinary people like me just trying to be healthier, one stomach crunch at a time. Plus, they send nice emails when you’re trying hard, with animated balloons and stuff. Today I’d finally lifted enough weights and spent enough hours there to earn a t-shirt as an incentive to keep going. A silly thing, really, but you shouldn’t lift the equivalent of 38 elephants without someone noticing.

(Plus I’ve finally got muscles enough to open my own pickle jars!)

😉

Image from National Geographic

Are we hot yet?

Who in their right mind makes chili in the middle of summer?

😉

Me.

I’ve been looking for an excuse to make this recipe for a while, but it didn’t turn up until today. The peppers were cheap at the market and there’s still those sweet onions I plucked from the dirt a couple weeks ago, so all I really needed to buy was some chicken to roast and shredded cheese to drown everything in.

Why, BTW, is chicken so expensive? $13.00 for 4 split breasts… jeez. Good thing I don’t eat meat very often; I could hardly afford it.

Anyway… this chili is nice; not a traditional spicy chili, but something lighter and sweeter. I added some kidney beans and served it with rice… and had an avocado on the side. Delicious.

I like hot stuff, but traditional chili can easily end up tasting like dirt if you’re not careful with the spices. I usually make something like Cincinnati-style chili, sweetened with cinnamon and served over spaghetti. That’s probably my favorite way to have it. Susan keeps promising me an authentic recipe. Hint, hint!

While I’ve sort of veered away the last two weeks from the intent of Vicki’s Saturday Shopping Challenge, a good by-product is that I’m paying a bit more attention to what I spend and I’m actually spending some time in the kitchen on weekends. Generally, I’d rather do anything besides cook!

So… what was on the menu for you tonight?

Fair time

Like a ten-year old, I love the county fair. I love the lights and the clowns and the racing pigs. The blue-ribbon vegetables on display, the 4-H girls and their horses, the masses of people waiting in line for deep-fried twinkies (ick!)… it’s an absurd scene and I just can’t get enough of it.

I used to do a lot of my Master Gardener volunteer hours at the fair. I’d go every day and stand around watching the people go by. I had to stay in a little booth most of the time, under a sign that said, “Have a garden question… ask a Master Gardener!” Can you imagine the crazy questions people would dream up to ask? I loved it though, loved to talk with complete strangers about what it was that was killing their prize dahlias or whatever. I’d sneak away for ice-cream or lemonade or zeppoles and to pet the horses or visit with the 4-H bunnies.

I like to watch the kids on the rides, too. Tonight I laughed at a mom with her little son on the kiddie roller coaster, shaped like a dragon or an earthworm maybe; she was screaming right along with the rest of the kids.

I’m trying to think of an excuse to go back again tomorrow…

Nesting plovers

A problem cannot be solved at the same level of consciousness in which it was created.
– Albert Einstein

With my back to their nest scrape and its symbolic fencing, I spent yesterday watching the beach crowd grow around this one plover nest that I was charged with *protecting* and was struck most by contrasts: the natural dune grass and pebble strewn high beach where the plovers make their nest amid bits of drift sticks and broken clam shells and in front of me the ocean with its equally vibrant and churning masses of bikini-clad sun-worshippers.

It’s a wonder to me these birds manage to survive at all here in NJ, but survive they do. For my first 7 or 8 hours spent watching them, most everyone was respectful of the fencing, so long as they noticed it. Wayward balls and children tended to wander beneath it freely, but most responded nicely to my calls beginning with, “Sweetie… you can’t be in there!” – though there was this one little boy – crossed arms and all – who refused to budge. That’s when the teacher voice came in handy.

😉

Those hours also gave me the chance to watch some bits of plover behavior that I’d not seen before. Mostly I felt badly for the bird left to set on those eggs in the blazing sun; I wonder what it does to occupy itself for all those hours. Every so often I’d notice there were two birds; switching duties, I guess, and I watched the other walk to the end of the fenced area and then fly off to feed in the intertidal zone among the kids playing.


Kite-flying was a problem, as it mimics predators like gulls, but I had a hard time convincing people to move far enough away to not frighten the plovers; plus that resitriction doesn’t seem to be posted anywhere on the beach that I could refer them to. Never mind that the plovers are invisible to anyone without binoculars… I could only find them because I had that stick near their nest to use as a point of reference!

It was a wonderful day at the beach… the osprey and oystercatchers kept my eyes to the sky… and the terns were the perfect background music as they fed just off shore. I’m spectacularly sunburned for my efforts and didn’t want to leave yesterday before the crowds of people did. Funny that I should feel so protective of these birds so quickly.

Where’s the beach?

Spotted along the drive on the interstate in Pa. to visit Delia a couple months ago

The shore traffic has started already; yesterday I got caught in a traffic jam on the Parkway out to visit clients… time to revisit the backroads to the beach and avoid the carloads of city people that take over here come Memorial Day. The boardwalk shops are open, boats have been unwrapped from their plastic winter protection, storm shutters are up and awnings come down… the summer solstice isn’t until the 20th of June, but this weekend is the real start of summer at the Jersey Shore.

I’ll be out in the morning at Sandy Hook to watch over the few plover nests that remain after last week’s storm washed most of them away. Wish me luck at that and remind me to put on some sunblock.

😉

Count the fishies

The first summer we put in our pond we were pretty conservative with the number of fish we provided for. I think we started with less than twenty and I worried that even that small number was too much for our 1100 gallons. There was, of course, some formula involving the number of gallons divided by the ‘inches of fish’ that confounded me, as does most math, so we sort of ignored it and hoped that we didn’t have too many fish to overload the filtration system.

Pond books also had me scared to death to actually feed them very much food. I had the idea that if I fed them too much, the pond would quickly go green and the goldfish would grow to monstrous proportions in just one season. So I fed them once a day, if I remembered.

However many years out now… 6 or 7 since we put it in… I’ve decided that most of what I read in books is baloney. Maybe you have to worry about all that crap if you have a really small pond and man-eating koi, or if you think of a garden pond in terms of an indoor tropical aquarium, or have no means of filtering it, but I’ve found that it takes care of itself pretty well so long as I just leave it alone!

And the fish, well, they’re taking pretty good care of themselves too and multiplying. We added three small koi two summers ago and they seem to really like it here. They’ve certainly added some color to the mix of babies. Somehow the twenty or so survivors that we started with last spring have turned into…

Well, I’ll let you guess. You can try counting them in the pic, but like those count-the-jelly-beans-in-the-jar contests, it’s much more fun to just eyeball it and make a guess.

The person who guesses with the closest number wins all of this season’s babies!

😉

Note: I’ve finally added a category in the sidebar for pond posts, so if you should ever be in the mood for reading more, go there.

Overheard at the bird observatory

An egg story to rival Delia’s:

“Hello? Is this the Audubon?”

You can assume this means trouble at 10 am on a Sunday morning.

“We had a bunch of dead trees cut down in our yard…”

Uh oh. Why don’t people know enough to do this in the Fall?

“and my husband was cleaning up the stump grindings and found this egg…”

Oh dear.

“buried about four inches down in the dirt.”

Huh?

“It’s huge! And I know it’s an owl egg because my neighbor is one of those people that’s into all that nature stuff and she looked it up on the Internet and she says that owls burrow down, you know, to make their nests and…”

The bird observatory is located in NJ. The person was calling from NJ.

“and the egg must weigh at least a pound and I think it’s still alive so I put it in a basket..”

Wasn’t Easter a couple weeks ago already?

“and filled the basket up with dirt and buried the egg again and it’s been out on my deck for the last couple days..”

In the sun, I hope.

“and I’m not sure what I should do because I think it’s alive and it’s so heavy and could I bring it to you and you’ll tell me what it is and maybe take care of it or whatever?”

Sure… bring it on over. We’ll sit on it and hatch it for you.

————————————————————————————————–

How do you think I handled this particular phone call? With patience? Did I cackle in this woman’s ear or take the rare opportunity to educate?

No. I asked her if she was certain it wasn’t just a really big rock.

Or a dinosaur egg, maybe.