The First Lemon of Winter

Look what I found in the cold frame this afternoon. The Meyer lemon trees are in blossom. There's a few lemons, even. One minute I was slogging and slithering around in the wet grass, thinking how muddy and slippery it was, and the next I was opening the most magical, fragrant gift possible. Hard to believe, really. Those old Christmas lights are pretty effective.
Here's where the two lemon trees are living: covered with the cold frame and tucked in with straw. My dad is building me a frame into which he's putting his old glass deck door, and it's going to go on top of some 4 X 4s and some concrete blocks to create a Lovely Lemon House (stay tuned for the sign, lol). I didn't think they'd do so well, to be honest. I was sure they'd be shrivelled and brown by this point, but those Christmas lights are doing an amazing job of insulating them. I've even got lights in the greenhouse, keeping the broccoli and cabbage seedlings going.

Here's what started it all: my allée. Yes, I can blush modestly, for this IS my future allée. Anyhow, there I was, contemplating my future allée, because I'd been looking at pictures of Martha's allee (note to Martha: there is an accent on this word, get your minions on it, stat) and thinking to myself, "I need an allée in this area" (yes, I DO think with accents). Then I got sidetracked by the mud in front of the cold frame and wondered how the lemons were doing.

And now we know.

Avian Notes

Here is our Primary Bird Feeding Station (and yes, we DO happen to have a Secondary Bird Feeding Station, as well as a Third and Fourth, but that's only because these bloody birds are all so bloody territorial).

This is where we have a suet feeder (which is more properly a peanut butter/bacon fat feeder but that's such a mouthful I tend to say suet feeder instead) and a seed house. The other stations involve large bird feeders and hummingbird feeders. I've also started scattering seed on top of an annual pot on the other corner of the deck, for when these feeders get too crowded. Because they do, especially with this cold winter we've been having.

At the moment it doesn't look like much, but that's because I shooed everyone away so I could get a picture without the frenzy that it usually is.

What I'm noticing this year in particular, more than last year or the year before, is how rotating the bird schedule is. Some birds are here all the time; some move around and only come here at certain times in the year. Right now it's Pine Siskin time. They hunch together on the seed feeder, even when it's windy. They are rather large to be hunching on such a small feeder, though, and tend to be the subject of great mirth to the kids as they swing about in the wind, clinging grimly. Last week it was Stellars Jay time. Most of the time, though, it's time for all the little birds: nuthatches, sparrows, juncos, towhees, bush tits, and chickadees (the black-capped version, according to some, is not on this Island, a fact I find rather surprising). And in between we have starlings, flickers, Northern flickers, woodpeckers, and the odd owl.

But I am feeling rather triumphant today, because I have foiled the starlings at long last. It only took me three years. I am nothing if not obsessed with thwarting these stupid piggy birds tenacious.

Here's my latest tip for keeping the starlings out of the suet feeder. I call it:

How Me and My Suet Feeder Managed To Foil The Starlings.

Take a large piece of chicken wire and wrap it around your suet feeder, leaving little spaces for the smaller birds to sneak in. Make sure there is at least 6" all round the suet feeder, including the top bit. The bush tits will be able to get in through the holes, but the chickadees and sparrows can't, so leave little slitty openings at the corners. If you know what a hamentashen is, well, that's the shape you're aiming for here. Birds with a long beak (flickers, woodpeckers) will be able to perch anywhere on this mess and access the suet feeder, but the starlings will have distinct difficulties getting hold without the entire thing swinging around madly. Once in a while you will find one makes it inside, but if you dash out when he's trapped you will scare the sh*# out of the entire flock when he finds he can't just fly away. If you are like me you will find this highly amusing. Eventually they will cease and desist, a thing you never thought possible.

The Midnight Folk

Here's our latest read aloud. I'd meant to start it by November so I could read The Box of Delights in time for Christmas (because of the Christmas theme) but what with a late delivery from Amazon and us not finishing our other read aloud until mid-December (The Red Pyramid), it never happened.

But now we're almost finished this book and so far it's a definite hit. It's a period piece, though, so if you're looking for something for the younger crowd this might not be your best choice unless your listener has an ear for arcane diction because Masefield's writing style is fairly antiquated. I found myself editing speeches once or twice. Not that it's boring, more that the topics of conversation are likely to confuse to anyone unfamiliar with the diction of your average 1840's highwayman, plus some of the characters tend to go on rather, um, impenetrably. I had to stop here and there to explain terminology, something I never do.

But those are only small things in comparison to the thread of the story, which is bursting with imaginative details and clever characters and exciting twists and turns. It's a literary forebear to books by the likes of Diana Wynne Jones and JK Rowling with its talking cats and paintings come to life and mermaids and witches and flying potions. Plus, there is some crazy dialogue, mostly along the lines of "What a jolly fun day I've had!" — dialogue my kids adore. The characters are all so wonderfully unambiguous, too: Plucky Boy, Bad Governess, Cruel Witch, Strange Guardian, Rude Game Keepers, and so on. Refreshed my palate after the characters in The Red Pyramid, who were all so very, well, predictable.

Enchanting? Not In My Kitchen

In my ongoing mission to ensure that the kids have a Serious Movie Education, I screened the film Enchanted yesterday, as part of my Fairy Tale Adaptations course. It was a bit touch and go, particularly at first, particularly with the boys, who were dubious (in the case of Max) and verging on horrified (in the case of Dominic) at the idea of watching a Disney Princess Flick.

Then we settled in and everyone mostly enjoyed it, although FDPG had a few moments when she was overcome by the cheesiness of the situation. After a bit I went into the kitchen to make lunch. In the other room Princess Whateverhernameis was singing a Cleanup Song. Cockroaches and rats were helping her clean up. It was cute. Weird, but cute.

Then I went into my own kitchen. I looked at the stove. I looked at the counters. They did not look good. They looked, dare I confess it, repellent. Where was my Clean-up Fairy?

Not in my kitchen, that's for sure. Sigh.

Someone's Got A New Toy

In a strange twist of gift giving synchronicity, my mother and I bought the same item to give Max, except she'd bought it for his Christmas present and I'd bought for his birthday a few days later. Luckily I had saved the receipt (don't ask me how many times I haven't done this, sob) and we were able to return it. Then he and I trolled the stores wondering what to get him. Just when we were starting to get mildly irritable at the lack of Cool Birthday Ideas presenting themselves to us, we happened upon a selection of these: electric keyboards.

Now he's working on the soundtrack to a new stop-go LEGO animation.

Imagine lots of weird noises, times three hundred.

Thousand.

Million.

New Years Comes In Crisp & Clear

Downton Abbey Takes A Shortcut Across The Pond

I was all set to gripe about the subject of this article in the Daily Mail when I noticed that someone already has.

Still, I feel rather exasperated. To chop two hours off of this really fabulous miniseries on the basis that certain inheritance procedures in Britain might leave viewers "baffled" is almost insulting. What ARE the heads at PBS thinking? Have they succumbed to the Dumbing Us Down mentality?

"For the land of the notoriously short attention span," the article claims, "TV executives have taken a knife to the...series, slashing its running time and simplifying the plotline..."

"American audiences are used to a different speed when it comes to television dram and you need to get into a story very quickly [said Rebecca Eaton, head of PBS programming]."

"Ms Eaton insisted that any changes were minor and did not affect the quality of the programme."

Nice. Thanks for that. Given that I've seen what you're going to cut, well, all I can say is shame on you for expecting so little of your audience.

Want to voice your disapproval? You should. Click here.