See the level of sugary water in the hummingbird feeder here? See how low it is? It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, and that feeder was filled at 10:30 this morning. That’s six hours, and the flying pigs have consumed at least 6 ounces already (175ml for people outside the United States and Borneo). What do they think I am? Their fawning servant? Good grief! There must be a little tube that goes directly from their greedy mouths to their sphincterless anuses! Sugar pumps! Give me a break—after all, I have a dog to medicate, a cat to satiate, five fish to ingratiate, and I’m already running late! All day I’ve grubbed around in the dirt on the sidewalk project, then all of a sudden the filter in the fish fountain clogged with algae, floated to the surface and had to be taken apart and cleaned (stinky stuff inside!) then reassembled and put back without upsetting the fish too much, I’m tired and achy, and it looks like I’ll have to refill the feeder (one of two feeders) before I can even have a beer! When does this relentless daunting responsibility let up? How much more can one person take? I should have embarked on a more sedate life—been a matador, or a flight controller. Actually, forget the matador part, too personally gory; if a flight controller makes a teeny little goof he doesn’t actually see the planes crash into each other except as intersecting blips on his radar. As a bonus, there’s some interesting video on the nightly newscast. Gives meaning to his life. I’ve never been on the news for missing an empty hummingbird feeder. That’s nice. Who needs all that excitement? I think I’m confused.
Saturday, March 22
When pigs fly
See the level of sugary water in the hummingbird feeder here? See how low it is? It’s 4:30 in the afternoon, and that feeder was filled at 10:30 this morning. That’s six hours, and the flying pigs have consumed at least 6 ounces already (175ml for people outside the United States and Borneo). What do they think I am? Their fawning servant? Good grief! There must be a little tube that goes directly from their greedy mouths to their sphincterless anuses! Sugar pumps! Give me a break—after all, I have a dog to medicate, a cat to satiate, five fish to ingratiate, and I’m already running late! All day I’ve grubbed around in the dirt on the sidewalk project, then all of a sudden the filter in the fish fountain clogged with algae, floated to the surface and had to be taken apart and cleaned (stinky stuff inside!) then reassembled and put back without upsetting the fish too much, I’m tired and achy, and it looks like I’ll have to refill the feeder (one of two feeders) before I can even have a beer! When does this relentless daunting responsibility let up? How much more can one person take? I should have embarked on a more sedate life—been a matador, or a flight controller. Actually, forget the matador part, too personally gory; if a flight controller makes a teeny little goof he doesn’t actually see the planes crash into each other except as intersecting blips on his radar. As a bonus, there’s some interesting video on the nightly newscast. Gives meaning to his life. I’ve never been on the news for missing an empty hummingbird feeder. That’s nice. Who needs all that excitement? I think I’m confused.
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4 comments:
6 ounces by 4:30 PM? Lightweights, all! When we lived in Ahwahnee the little piggies would go through a full quart by 2:30! We'd have 50 of them divebombing each other to gain "exclusive" access to the feeder, and even then they managed to consume prodigious quantities.
I agree that 50 birds can decimate a quart in less than a day; that happens here in the summer. But our cat has reduced our early spring population of hummers from maybe 15 to 20 down to three! He lies under the flowering quince bush and as the birds go for the flowers that are clear down at ground level he gets ’em. We are planning to dump a couple of kegs of roofing nails under the quince. The bonus is the plant gets plenty of iron.
That cat should be controlled!! How can you not love hummingbirds. Last year there were two raised in a nest where we could see them as they grew to maturity. The mother refurbished the droopy remains of their nest this year and has raised two more children, one of which fledged 3 days ago. The other one is still just looking around, stretching and preening, and mama still rams her bill down its throat Does the bill soften? Bend? Come out the other end? Please explain.
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It seems that if a hummer can poke her bill clear down her babies’ throats, those babies could grow up to be pretty good sword swallowers in a circus or something.
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