Creepy Crows, Falling Cats, and Green Houses

There's a crow that's creeping me out.

He discovered the suet and is making our life miserable trying to keep him run off away from it. I found out that rushing the door, yelling "Hie, hie!" like my granddaddy used to do in a low, gruff voice, while clapping your hands scares them off.

Scares the neighbors, too.

But it makes them (the crows, and maybe the neighbors, too) dislike you.

Daughter and I were playing Scrabble on the back porch last evening and I started getting dive bombed by a crow. They are very large up close. If I had stuck my hand out over the banister when he flew by me cawing, I could have grabbed a wing. He did this twice, so I yelled at him. I could hear him cawing at me in the woods.

And then later, Daughter was downstairs by herself and heard a tapping at the back door. She freaked, trying to figure out who could have got to our back porch to be knocking on the back door. Our back door is up a winding set of metal stairs, under the lower porch, and the screen door stays locked. Plus,  you have to go down a steep bank to get to it. We have a back door mainly in case of a fire.

But since Molly wasn't barking, she decided to see for herself.

It was the crow, sitting on the porch floor, peeking in, and pecking at our back door.

Hitchcock, anyone?

This morning I went to the refrigerator to put up my gallon of lemonade. Eli, our Maine Coon fifteen pound kitten, was sleeping on top, as usual. I warned him I was opening the door, as usual, but somehow he lost his balance and fell. I caught him in mid-fall, his hind legs balancing on the shelf inside the fridge, my hand holding him under his 'armpit' while I tried to keep the door from closing on us both and searching for a place to sit a gallon of lemonade.

He held on for dear life, I got the lemonade set down, and rescued him from the inside of the fridge, putting him down on the floor.

His claw only embedded in one place, which shall remain nameless.

This afternoon we went to a greenhouse friends (?) told me about. I spent over fifty dollars. The young boys were asking me repeatedly if they could help me find something, all the time looking at Daughter. So I made one of 'em climb over a bunch of stuff and pull a plant down, telling him that was the one I had to have because it had so many blooms. (Insert smug look here).

So before bedtime tonight, I must check to see if the back door is secure, the cat is off the fridge, and my plants are all tucked in safely for the night.

Man, I love my life.

This Is Getting Ridiculous!

This bird watching stuff is cutting into my reading time.

I wanted to say my housekeeping time, but I hate to flat out lie.

I can't even sit at the table and stay long enough to eat a meal. That's a shame, that right there is.

But the Rose Breasted Grosbeaks have called their cousins and a few minutes ago there were five male Grosbeaks and two female ones. They were all fussing around the suet feeder, but when the Red Bellied Woodpecker showed up, they sat sweetly on the branch until  he finished.

He's bigger, so I guess he pulled rank. Actually, he totally ignored them. The male Cardinal joined them once.

Maybe the suet we bought specifies birds with red on them only.

And  here's something I don't understand: One of the males keep smacking into a window. He's got four other REAL Grosbeaks to fight with, which he doesn't, so why slam into my window? He even left little red and white feathers on the glass.

And don't preach to me about bird safety! I got all kinds of stuff hanging in my sun room windows so birds can easily see they can't fly through them.  That's why I figure he saw his reflection enough that he was fighting, like Cardinals and Blue Birds do.

It's a real trip to watch the male Blue Bird fight himself in the side mirror of the car.

Now, I've always thought bird watchers (the serious ones) were....strange. I thought they needed to find something to do. I figured  unless you were a cat, there was a little something loose up there in the old noggin.

I've always been a bird listener, sitting high up on my back porch and closing my eyes, it's truly a beautiful symphony.

But watching? I mean, really?

But I have been converted. It was an accident, for sure. And now I can't stay away from the dang windows.

It's a relief when it gets too dark to see out.

Maybe in a few minutes I can actually pick up my book and read.

But last night all I could think about were birds.

Sorta like I've been possessed by Alfred Hitchcock. That movie was scary, and I watched birds after seeing that, but in a different way. Took me months to get over it. (I think I was eight when I saw the movie,  not a good idea.)

I'll try not to blog about birds next time....but I ain't making no promises.

Husband says a Double Breasted Mattress Thrasher could show up next, and he's real good at knowing his birds.

I can't wait!