Not quite a murmuration

 Walking today was easier, temperature up to the 40s, and the trees were decorated with starlings, who rose up as I passed then settled back.

It's the time of year when flocks arrive, every tree branch with its occupants, all shouting, when they're not dive bombing the neighbor's feeder. See that lovely sky? We get a lot of dappled skies.

We have flocks of juncoes, too, who arrive in November and leave in spring, to summer elsewhere. Maybe they like cold, but not too cold, weather.

It's also the season where people start bringing cut trees and greens home to decorate for the holidays, and I have to proceed with caution. I'm deathly allergic to live cut greens. 

Not if they're planted, but that moment when cut branches start to smell wonderful is when my throat seizes up, I gasp for air, and lose my voice so I can't explain what's wrong! 

I used to work in a women's nonprofit, where the volunteers would decorate the buildings every year. They agreed to keep the doors leading to the area of my office closed -- and a sign saying no greens in here! -- but even so I'd lose my voice and have to keep getting outside to try and recover.

It was the time of year where I had to speak officially at many parties and end of year events, not a good time to be croaking at best.  Nowadays I suppose I'd have an EpiPen, but I don't think they were much known then, the main advice being to avoid the irritant or have shots six months before you knew about it.

All the years growing up I was very sick over Christmas, which my mother thought was bronchitis. Nobody ever caught the connection until, in our married house, I had the porch glassed in and set the tree out there in view of the street, for everyone to enjoy, front door closed.

That was the first Christmas I was well, and we realized what was up. After that I knew how to stay well over the season and it was a big improvement. It involves very brief visits to greens-infested buildings and some people who don't get it, oh well.

This week is also the return of the ants. A little column of them showed up in the living room. I suppose the cold snap has made them look for warmth. Not willing to get the $$$ Exterminator back in December, I checked out ant repellents. 

Some highly rated indoor-safe $$ sprays and traps show their active ingredient is -- borax plus sweetener. Well, I don't need expensive methods, so I reverted to my old mixture, before we found the ants nest under the siding,  that is. That needed John the Exterminator. 

So here's a container of borax mixed with confectioners sugar.

There's another one where I saw other ants. If these work, fine. I'll soon know when casualties appear. I already keep food in screw top glass jars or in the freezer. Sweep allll the time, all that.

Up to now Boud 0, ants 0. I'll keep you informed on the score.

Happy day everyone, what a cheery holiday post, all about deadly greens and creepy ants. Off to read now, maybe the last Ruth Galloway I haven't read.

It's about the pandemic. Another cheerful topic.