Sundown and moonup

A nice sunset tonight.  The flax bush silhouetted against the western sky at 8.50 tonight:

But when I turned around to go inside I spotted this:

And a few minutes later, with the telephoto lens, it looked like this:

Approved

Belatedly, on my blogging anniversary last week, I applied to the World Blog Council for the formal sanctioning of my blog.  I was approved!  

If you like my site, please visit theirs by clicking HERE and voting for me, remembering that I have never come top of any poll nor won anything in my life*, and you would be doing a Good Deed and earn my Undying Appreciation  if you assisted me to be top even for two milliseconds.

* Except an LP and two seats to see Rita Coolidge and Kris Krisofferson back in 1974,

and second in the flower-arranging, multiple blooms, when I was 9. 

Tui through my studio window.

(Ignoring the indifferent visual quality, just listen to this clip while you're reading the rest of this post.)

The last couple of months a Tui has been visiting our house once or twice a day to check out the cobwebby windows of my studio and eves.  

Above is a photo I took a month ago just as he was leaving.  You can see the wonderful blue-green sheen to his feathers.

And finally today I got two more better photos of him (or her)...  What a thrill.

Tui is a unique New Zealand bird, not found anywhere else.  A bit larger than a blackbird, he is a good flyer (unlike many other NZ birds),  adaptable so quite common, has a distinctive singing voice, replete with clicks and squawks, and is  a consummate mimic.  He belongs to the honeyeater family.

You can see the white tuft of feathers at his throat (the reason why Tui was called the Parson Bird by the first European New Zealand settlers), and the lacy white feather collar over his shoulders.  He's looking up at the eaves for spiders and small insects, but in vain because unfortunately I cleaned the windows yesterday.  

And if you look very closely you can see a tiny touch of orange on the top of his head.  This will be the orange pollen from the few flax flowers that are just coming out.  He's been popping his beak in to get the sweet nectar, and the pollen has accumulated on his head.  There aren't many out just yet, so he's still supplementing with insects.  Tui are one of the few birds in the world that have long feathery tongues so they can collect nectar better. 

And now, for the LVD Awards!

The first LVD Award ever awarded goes today to Silverback for the zaniness of this post.  It involves a stationary white bird, a giraffe, McDonalds, and a bicycle.  Congratulations Ian!

Fridge Stuff

I always look at people's fridges.  I think they are as individual as fingerprints.  Over the years mine has reflected the changing nature of the house's inhabitants.  When we were homeschooling there was a constantly changing display of Piaget-like developmental art.  Then followed writing and projects which later of course moved to other locations like the bookcases as they become too heavy to stick with even a heavy-duty magnet.   On the farm, there were always fertiliser agent or stock agent phone numbers, and I've always been big on Sayings That Improve You.  "Boost Your Self Esteem!" or "What have you done for yourself today?" etc etc.  Good to have those little reminders that your yang (or is it yin?) hasn't been seen for five years, when you have 3 under 5 and live out in the country.  Mine was probably hiding under some bed chatting to a dust bunny as big as a plastic inflatable Death Star.

At times the fridge has become like an archeological dig in the Rift Valley, to the point that one browsing visitor, waiting for the kettle to boil (regulars make their own tea here - it's a sign that my usual anal obsessions for Being the Perfect Hostess have been replaced by my relaxed regard for you) has commented "I can't keep up with all the reading on your fridge!"

These days it's a bit tidier and elegant.  I'm especially fond of the piggy 'Cholderton Rare Breeds Farm' magnet.  If you're ever near Salisbury I highly recommend a visit.  A marvelous place - not just for the animals, but for the people who run the place.  In a four-month holiday brightly lit by strangers'  friendship and kindnesses to my daughter and me, they shone the brightest.

So, what does your fridge say about you?

The river calls

Shall I go kayaking today?  Or shall I write Christmas cards?

On Christmas

Oldest son, aged about three:

"What is the nex' big thing coming up Mummy?"

Me: "Christmas, love."

Son: "What do we do at Crissmiss?"

Me: "We give people presents because it reminds us that people gave the baby Jesus presents when he was born"

Son: "And...?"

"We have a big holiday because it's summer and we can go to the beach and camp and swim every day."

"Anything else?"

"We get a conifer tree and decorate it, because we copy England and Christmas is in winter there and the all the leaves are off the other trees.  Conifers smell nice and look bright and green".

"And...?"

"We get holly and bring that inside too, and hang pieces up around the house, and put a sprig on top of the Christmas pudding."

"Why?"

"Um, because holly has bright red berries in winter and the red and green look nice together."

Pause. Then, very adamantly: "No.  That's not why."  

"It isn't?"

"No, it's because it 'members us that it's a holly - day."