Squirrelly

Don't you hate it when you lose stuff? It makes me nuts!

I lost my spare camera battery last week. I don't know how it happened. I charged it fully. I returned the charger to its proper place. The little plastic cover that protects the battery's metal contacts was not on the counter. That meant that after removing the battery from the charger and putting the charger away I had replaced the plastic cover on the battery, and then put the battery.........where?

I retraced my movements over and over again in my mind. I could not for the life of me remember anything past the point where I removed the battery from the charger.

I looked everywhere. The more I looked the more it got on my nerves that I couldn't find it. I made myself late for work one day because I could not stop looking. Then I was grouchy because I couldn't find my battery and because I was running late.

I was sure it could not have left the master bed/bath area. I resolved to tear those rooms apart bit by bit until I found it.

Maybe it had fallen down amongst the clutter on the closet floor. I removed everything from the closet floor and got down on my hands and knees to look. I found some dust bunnies. But no battery.

Maybe I had swept it into a drawer. I emptied out the three most likely drawers. I found a lot of stuff that needed to be thrown away or given away. But no battery.

Honey Bunny even tried to help. He opened some drawers and rumbled around in them a bit. Instead of being appreciative I muttered things like "I already looked there," and "I wouldn't have put it there." H. B. wisely exited the bedroom.

I had recently purchased a new camera bag and I had not moved all of my meager camera gear from the old bag to the new. Maybe this was a clue. I looked in the old and the new bags. Three times. One of the times I used a flashlight to reveal every corner of the black bags. No battery.

After a week of this insanity I went into the new camera bag for a lens. I looked once more for the missing battery. Silly idea. I was obsessed with this problem.

There it was. Right there. I couldn't believe my eyes. I had to touch it before I could accept the fact of its existence.

I think this could be the work of a Leprechaun!

You Lookin' at Me Lookin' at You

Recently I rented a macro lens.

Kitty loved it.

Not because Kitty enjoys macro photography. Kitty enjoys walking slowly around the yard looking at small things. And if this lens gave me a new appreciation for this activity then Kitty was all for it.

Kitty walked with me and weaved back and forth against my legs. When I stopped moving he threw himself on the ground and rolled onto his back begging to be scratched. He peeked into the weeds helping me (he thought) search for tiny living creatures.

Imagine my excitement when I found a Praying Mantis. I looked through my camera's viewfinder. She appeared a bit too small. I needed to move closer. I eased the tripod forward inch by inch. Mustn't frighten the Mantis, right? Carefully, cautiously..........OOPS! Kitty chose this moment to head bump me. The tripod crashed against the green plant, the mantis scooted over to a more protected area, and this is the resulting photo.

Dinner Companion

We first became aware that we had a nocturnal visitor in April. We arrived home one night to see glowing eyes reflecting in our headlights.

Our dinner guest was watching us as well. He knew that we sat on the porch each night until just after dark, then went into the house to eat supper at around 9:00.

On a few nights we would return to the porch after supper and interrupt his meal. We could not see him in the dark but we could hear the feeder creaking eerily as it swung back and forth like the porch swing in "To Kill a Mockingbird."

I set up a camera and flash in such a way that it could be operated from inside the house. After supper I reminded Sweetheart not to go out on the porch until I could trip the camera.

There was our dinner companion. Right on time at 9:28 pm. After I snapped his portrait he brazenly continued eating until we opened the back door.

With any luck this raccoon should have a long and happy life. We live quite a distance from the road and there aren't any dogs to bother him.

She's a Natural Beauty

Last summer a toad set up house in our garage. She was welcome to all the mosquitoes, flies and spiders she could eat. I thought she was amusing.

Toads need an outside source of moisture for their skin. Many mornings I would find her in Kitty's water bowl. It was just the right size for her and she could rest comfortably on the bottom of the bowl with her nose and eyes just above the surface of the water.

Kitty was not amused. He knew from experience that toads secrete a toxin that makes them taste very bad! Sure that his water was made to taste the same way, I changed it daily.

"Outdoor toads" spend the hot summer days in holes where they can stay cool and moist. When the sun came up in the mornings our garage toad would hop under furniture stored in our garage to hide and rest until night.

Toads also hibernate in the ground in winter. As fall approached and the days grew shorter I became concerned about Garage Toad. The area underneath the furniture was not sufficient for the long winter and she sure wasn't going to be digging a hole in the cement floor.

So each day I moved Kitty's water bowl closer to the garage door. And each morning I left the garage door cracked a few inches for her.

Eventually her instincts took over and she hopped off to find her winter home.

If you look closely at this toad's picture you can see the sand on her face. I took her picture just a few minutes after she hopped out of her hole that is just next to our home's foundation. I like to think this is Garage Toad.

I Have to Get in There Right Now!

Little Kitty is athletic and agile. She loves cheese, milk, and yogurt. She is very feminine and keeps her fur impeccably clean.

Little Kitty is also so shy we can't get our hands on her.

So why is it that whenever we use the guest bath she has to come in too?

The Moo

This is my daughter's dog, Moonie. Don't ask me why she named him that, I have never asked her.

Moonie is one of those once in a lifetime dogs. It is hard to put your finger on what it is about him. Maybe it is simplest just to quote one of my friends, "Everybody loves Moonie!"

We live on ten acres in a rural area. We are used to seeing Moonie in this context. Moonie is a BIG Labrador Retriever. He measures 52 inches from nose to tail. For comparison, my dining room table is only 59 inches long.

My daughter recently moved to an apartment in the city and Moo went with her. He is very happy and goes for long walks with her in the local park.

One day when I visited them I volunteered to take Moo outside for a bathroom break. All of a sudden the beautiful landscape around the apartment looked terribly small. As my daughter said, "A large area," and she held her hands with her arms wide open, "suddenly looks this big when Moo shows up!" And she held her hands so close together they almost touched.

From Zero to Sixty to 1865

Have you ever just been sitting around the house chilling and then, in the blink of an eye, everything changes?

One Sunday in March I poured my little cup of coffee and sprawled out on the recliner with the laptop to check the news.

Lo and behold, there was a civil war reenactment going on!

I jumped in the shower (mustn't show up smelly for such a social event) printed out a map, grabbed my camera, arranged a dog sitter, and took off at 60 mph to the year 1865.

In spite of all my efforts I was late. The battle had started without me. I had to boogie down to the battlefield but boy was it worth it. The bright colors, the noise, the horses, the excitement.......

I have been told, I'm not sure if it is entirely true, that here in the south they have trouble getting enough Yankees to come to the battle.

The old farm house that served as a hospital for both Yanks and Rebs is said to be haunted. Since the reenactment was on the same day of the year as the battle was actually fought I wondered if the ghosts would be especially stirred up by the rifle and cannon fire. After all, I believe in ghosts, don't you?