Notes from Field and Fen, no, really

Longtime blogistas around here know that the Field and Fen title is a gentle gibe at the English birding and hiking public who write impassioned letters to the newspapers claiming to have heard the first cuckoo in spring, and to have seen the little chiffchaff building her nest in the laburnum, etc. Harmless folk, but giving great mirth to the likes of me. Especially since my own field and fen is a patio slightly larger than a dining table, but teeming with life and conflict in the avian world, with intramurals as they take on chipmunks and squirrels.

So the current scene on the patio is of bedlam, with the little wrens who started life in my houseplant now feeding themselves and hopping about the feeder, occasionally falling off the fence as they preen, not having got all their balance going yet, and a male cardinal harassed by feeding two great big babies all by himself. No sign of Mrs. Cardinal.

They can sit in the feeder and peck up the small seeds, but they don't have the hang of cracking open the sunflowers seeds, favorite food of cardinals, yet, so dad has to do that for both of them, while they flutter up and down chirping dad, dad, I'm hungry.

And last evening, on the fence, a pair of mourning doves being run ragged by a single baby demanding food from both of them in rapid succession, until the male took off, probably went to the pub, and the mother glared at the baby till he settled down a bit.

And a hummingbird has visited the last two or three evenings, I think because the storm woke up a lot of interesting insects, and the bright red wild cherries are of interest, too. The squirrels have not got a look in, because of all the feeding bird parents who will deck a squirrel as soon as look at him. The chipmunks are being shoved off the deck by the mourning doves who like to eat on the ground, too.

All this is great kitty television, and Duncan and Marigold are glued to the patio window watching the action until it gets too dark to see.

Would that our bureaucrats could take a note from the birds. The Social Security people sent the form as promised for me to look over and attest to the truth of, etc., as arranged during the phone meeting, and sent as promised a pre-stamped official envelope for me to put the docs in and send to them to see and return to me.

Twenty five pages of documents. And they sent a number 10 small business envelope...so I will have to drive up to the office and present the stuff myself, if the floods have receded enough by Tuesday, after the holiday, to do it. I'll bring the envelope and show them the impossibility of using it, and politely invite them to put it back into their supply cupboard for the next applicant to use.

This reminds me of the Banking Dolts who said, well why don't you carry your General Durable Power of Attorney in your wallet, then, so as to have it handy when we ask. That's a 20 page, raised seal document, folks...which goes to show that the people asking for the stuff have literally never seen them nor have any idea what they look like even when they arrive!

I think they imagine that major life documents are all reduced to laminated cards like driver licences. Well, it would be a good idea, but its time is not yet here.

So, this has been a better couple of days all in all, got a good mammo, yay, today, in no time at all, and will shortly be getting my eyes checked before I start saying hi to mailboxes. And yesterday I baked bread, using great new bakeware, and the bread released perfectly, sign of good ware, that is. All in all, better day.