Echoes from the Loafers’ Club Meeting

I’m having one of those days.

Everything is conspiring against you, eh?

And they are showing remarkable teamwork.

Driving by Bruce’s drive

I have a wonderful neighbor named Bruce. Whenever I pass his driveway, thoughts occur to me, such as: I saw a bumper sticker on a car that read, “I’m so far behind, I think I’m first.” And he was ahead of me. I was driving 30 mph though a peek-and-you’re-past town. A town so small that a driver has time for only one peek before he’s past it.

Daylight saving time isn’t one of my enthusiasms. It brings confusion. I keep my hands at the 9 and 3 o’clock positions on the steering wheel when I drive. I dislike springing ahead to 10 and 2, even though those were the positions I was taught when learning to drive.

Thanks a brunch

I heard on the radio a few years ago that the average American eats 1996 pounds of food each year. Nearly a ton of food. Using math skills that earned me such kudos as “he’s not that good at math,” I figured that’s just short of 5.5 pounds of food daily. I didn’t figure in the Leap Day we get every four years.

Inspired by that recalled information and having had a breakfast of tea and a banana, I decided to find food. I need to eat regularly to keep from feeling like yesterday’s hash browns. When nearing empty, I walk to my favorite hunting grounds  —  the refrigerator. I hoped there would be some of the waffles that fit perfectly into a toaster. I believe there is great value in waffles. I’d planned to make a smiley face of syrup on each waffle. Sadly, I found a great emptiness where the waffles would have been if we’d have had waffles. I’m an easy bruise, but a quick heal. “Okay, then,” I said much too loudly to myself, and I moved onto other victuals.

I built a sandwich. Wheat bread and cheese. I smelled a couple kinds of cheese I’d found in the refrigerator. I tried to snifferentiate the two. I put both in my sandwich and added an orange for dessert. I had to. Mother Nature not only pre-sliced, but also pre-wrapped oranges.

In memory of a blue-ribbon birder

I’m saddened by the death of Bill Thompson III. This wonderful editor/publisher of “Bird Watcher’s Digest” was a friend I dearly miss. The birds could not have had a better friend or a more influential voice on their behalf. Bill was 57, still playing softball and had hitting a home run over the fence on his bucket list. He didn’t hit that HR. Life can be unfair. It stands to reason that death can be, too. I read the obituaries in the newspaper. They are blessings veiled in sadness. Good people I was glad to know who are gone. Social media makes today’s news seem as if it had happened 10 years ago, but grief moves slowly. Life moves on, but with an enhanced appreciation of time and people.

Nature notes

The world hurried by at squirrel speed. The Olympics could consist of a single event — trying to catch a squirrel. Whoever caught one would get the gold medal. There were snow-bones, the persistent patches of snow left behind along fence lines in the spring. Blue jays called loud and often. I tried to find cause for their alarm, but could not. Jays are like callers to talk radio; it’s impossible to keep up with the reasons for their outrage. Robins, having made a colossal commute, looked for worms where they found green grass. Birds are beginning to have a lot to say. A rooster pheasant did a double-squawk outside my window. Red-winged blackbirds, song sparrows and house finches sang. Where there was open water, ducks floated like bobbers. I watched a male cardinal feed his mate and a male jay do the same for his. These were pair-bonding exercises. An American kestrel hovered over a road ditch. It faced into the wind, flapped its wings and adjusted its tail to remain in place. I saw a pair mating on a utility wire. A bald eagle carried a stick. An eagle will lug a stick up to a mile to its nest. I’ve heard of an eagle carrying a 5-foot long branch. I saw house sparrows here and there. Once common birds in London and associated with the term “cockney sparra,” they are now essentially extinct from central London. Cats, air pollution and pesticides are blamed.

Meeting adjourned

You can be anything. Be kind.