Don't Know Where It Came From

But I like it.

But It's Way Too Early

Daisy spends all her time outside along with several other pottery friends.  Even she is amazed.  But she doesn't seem at all concerned.  In fact, that is Daisy's most endearing feature.  No matter what the weather and no matter what the mood she still looks up at me with her happy friendly smile.

Why is Daisy amazed?  Because we have had too long a spell of above-normal temperatures.  While Daisy cannot be fooled by the weather, some of my favorite plants can.

Daisy makes me smile no matter what mood I am in.

The Lenten Roses are several weeks early around here.

We planted camellias knowing full well that we are on the cusp of their growing area.  Some years we see gorgeous blossoms and some years we see buds that get cold, turn brown, and drop off.  This week is far too soon for the camellias to have a chance.

 This bud is ready to burst forth.

 The limbs are heavy and full of buds.

 And we have some open blossoms!

So I will enjoy our flowers albeit a little early and I suspect for a shorter while.  The lengthy warm weather is a minor inconvenience to my plants.  It can be devastating to farmers and their fields and orchards.  Apple trees may blossom out only to be killed by a heavy freeze.  So, as much I have really enjoyed the warmer weather, we really need to get back to normal temperatures.  And soon.

Fridays are Golden

It's February.  It feels more like April around here.  We have thoroughly enjoyed the mild sunny days, but I fear they may have consequences.  Far too many plants are waking up from winter's sleep.  We really need our normal weather back or we might not have apples and peaches this year.

The Golden Girls have enjoyed our trips to run and play off lead.  When we return, they are content to nap and snooze in the sun.

Several times a day Ellie will bring tennis balls from the den.  I usually see them and take them back to the den.  Occasionallly I don't notice that she has tennis balls.

Here she is with Lucy using her as a pillow.  She holds on to her tennis balls.

 Ellie knows she is not supposed to bring tennis balls here.  So she will never look me directly in the eye when I catch her.

I wish all phases of life were as wonderful and fulfilling as our days with our two favorite dogs.  Alas, that is not true.  Every day we are bombarded with revelations that concern us.

It seems that everything in the US has become polarizing and political, even one of our favorite charities.  With ever-changing explanations the organization tries to soften the blow it has given to women everywhere, especially the uninsured.  The blow is not huge in and of itself.  The message it sends is of far greater importance.  The explanations  haven't worked for me and I have decided that I will no longer contribute to an organization that changes its practice for political reasons.  I will call my friends whom I have always sponsored in the race for the cure to tell them that I will no longer give any money to the organization.  Sorry, I know the organization does good things but so do many others who are now more worthy of my contributions.  I am not advocating that everyone do the same, but it is a small message that I feel the need to send.  [Late entry:  The organization has reversed its decision.  For me the reversal is too late.  The damage has been done and cannot be undone.  More politics, i.e., "if we lose money with this decision we will rescind it.  Sort of try to forget all the responses we made publically these past three days.  And please continue to give us money even though we have proven we can be bought."]

The 2012 election rhetoric is nasty and filled with words spoken out of context.  The Supreme Court of the United States has allowed so much more money to be poured into the candidate coffers that we are sure to have an election bought by the very rich unless we all become active.  Every one of us is obligated to find the truth and not react to one-liners.

Politics during election years and politics that now infects a worthy charitable organization both remind me of a quote from one of my favorite people, Maya Angelou.  We would all be wise to reflect on what she has said:

"There's a world of difference between truth and facts.  Facts can obscure truth."

HAVE A WONDERFUL WEEKEND, EVERYONE

Wordless Today

Fish Tales

The sight is almost like a mosaic as you peer down into the vats.  Lots of fish shimmer in the sunlight.  Where can you see such a sight?  At the Pisgah Center for Wildlife Education.

The Bobby Setzer Fish Hatchery is located there.  Three varieties of trout are bred and released from this hatchery.  Trout eggs are stripped from the females and fertilized by mixing the eggs with the fluid containing sperm which has been stripped from the males.  The eggs are protected at the fish hatchery and allowed to grow into fingerlings about five months later.  At that stage, the fingerlings are moved to very large outside vats called raceways.

Walking past the raceways is amazing.  One raceway might hold really small fish and another may hold fish large enough for dinner (or breakfast).

Informative signs are all along the raceways.  This one explains how the trout are bred.

The mountain streams of North Carolina are well known as excellent trout waters.  Every year trout fishermen and women come here to fish from all over the country.  Local fishermen and women also love to catch these fish.

 Larger fish in a raceway

The Davidson River is a favorite among trout enthusiasts.  It runs through our county and the water is perfect for trout.  Another big bonus of the Davidon River is that the Bobby Setzer Fish Hatchery is on a branch of that river and regularly stocks the river with trout.

 This one was quite large.

Each year this particular fish hatchery stocks about half a million trout in fifteen counties in western NC.  The stocking waters include eighty streams and lakes.  We have three different trout species in our area.  The most popular is probably the Rainbow Trout.  It is not native to North Carolina but was brought here in the late 1800s from the Pacific Northwest.  The Brown Trout is also a favored one and it is not native either.  It was brought here from Europe in the late 1800s as well.

Is there a native trout in our mountains?  Well, sort of.  The Brook Trout is indeed native to western North Carolina.  Except...well...the Brook Trout is not really a trout.  It is a char.

We travel to the Pisgah Center for Wildlife Education quite often.  It is located in Pisgah Forest where a CCC (Civilian Conservation Corps) camp once stood.  The scenery is beautiful and John Rock rises above the area with trails to the top.  It is fun to wander around the raceways and see the various types and sizes of trout.  The parking lot is adjacent to the river where lines of trout fishermen and women hope to catch a big trout.  In summer we can watch fly fishing lessons for a new group of trout fishers.  Some of the early casting is rather funny to watch.  Thank goodness they don't have any hooks at the end of the lines.

Another draw for us is the usual presence of Turkey Vultures.  We have seen dozens of them roosting in two large trees near the raceways and flying above.  We did not see any on this particular trip, but we did see a very large black bird.  It was either a raven or a really large crow.  Since both are found in the area, we weren't sure which it was.  I'm sure a real birdwatcher could look at the tail and immediately recognize whether it's a crow or raven.

 Too bad I had the wrong lens on the camera.

We are indeed lucky and blessed to live around here.  Really, it's true...Life is better in the mountains.

Fridays are Golden

January 21 was "Squirrel Appreciation Day."  I don't know if that is one of those "Hallmark Holidays" or not.  I didn't look for cards and didn't receive any in the mail.  We don't celebrate Squirrel Appreciation Day. Because I hate those beady-eyed little devils.  I'm not at all sure why I have such a dislike for squirrels.  Perhaps there was a childhood incident that made me feel this way.  I'm not afraid of them.  I simply do not like them.

The only way I ever liked squirrels was when my momma would cook them up.  My daddy was a hunter and we ate the deer, squirrels, rabbits, pheasants and doves that he hunted.  (Yes, in North Carolina there is a legal dove season and yes we do shoot them and yes we eat them.)  My city-boy husband was absolutely amazed to hear that I had actually eaten squirrels.  Not only had I eaten them...I LOVED them.  I haven't had any squirrel since I was a child but my momma's stew was such a treat.  Momma even cooked and served the head in the stew and one lucky person would get the head to crack open and eat the brains.  That's DEFINITELY not a good idea now given the possibility of contracting Creutzfeldt-Jakob disease.

Enough about squirrels...how about the Golden Girls?  I began this post with squirrels because our dogs are excellent squirrel dogs.  (Forget about hunting dogs that will tree a squirrel for you.  They hunt by observation.)  They do their hunting from inside the house.  And occasionally out on the deck.

The girls look out at the rain.  They are actually looking at a squirrel.

 They don't seem very excited.

 In fact, they are lying down on the job.

But their eyes are still on the squirrel and they are at the ready.

 Why so nonchalant about the squirrel?

He's running in the tree.  He's not on the deck or railing.

A squirrel on the  deck is another story!

 As you can see in this terrible photogaph, this squirrel is VERY frightened at the dogs.

Honestly, I think if he had fingers he would salute them or thumb his nose.

To their credit, the girls do at least stand when stalking a squirrel that is on the deck.

And if we open the door they chase the squirrel off and prance around proudly.

And so we have reached the last Friday in January.  Many a New Year's resolution has fallen by the wayside.  While I never make New Year's resolutions, I do try to think of things I can improve on.  In this past week I have seen a great deal of anger on many levels.  Too often we let anger continue to fester and just cannot seem to learn when to let it go.

So I leave you with a quote from Buddha:

Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else;  you are the one who gets burned.

Good luck to those of you in Florida as you take your turn at watching the mud-slinging.  As for everyone?

HAVE A WONDERFUL WEEKEND!



Glad It's Not Our Turn

Go, Florida.  It's your turn to hear the rhetoric and see the endless attack ads.  Now that the South Carolina Republican Primary is over, the money speaks in Florida for a while.  Unfortunately, none of us will get a break from the never-ending politics.  "News" networks have twenty-four hours to fill after all.

Most of the campaign speeches are regurgitations of previous orations.  There seems to be little that is new.  On the other hand, I have in fact learned a new word.  I heard it for the first time yesterday.  I'm not at all sure how often I might be able to use it, but I'm always happy to learn a new word.

The word is "prebuttal."  Prebuttal is a term used to describe an already-prepared response to an anticipated criticism.  Last evening the President of the United States gave the annual State of the Union Address to Congress and to the American people.  Prior to the speech, dozens of members of the opposing party gave prebuttals against what they thought the President might say.  Afterwards, many of the same people gave rebuttals.  So we had prebuttals before the speech and rebuttals following the speech.  (Would it have been a "buttal" if )someone made a response DURING the speech?"

The airwaves are flooded with misinformation and false accusations as they are in each election year.  They always seem to get worse every election but that might be a perception.  It becomes harder and harder to glean the "half-truths" contained in the advertisements.  (Actually, some of them don't have even half-truths.)  One individual has contributed (legally, thanks to the Supreme Court) five MILLION dollars to a candidate and is prepared to contribute another five MILLION dollars.  In spite of all the money, are these really the best candidates money can buy?

Enough ranting.  Let me just say that the political process has become very much like a sign we see on a trailhead in DuPont State Forest.  I will share it with you:

It pretty much sums up my feelings about politics in America today.  In truth, I am curious as to how the bin gets filled with horse manure.  And what happens to it afterwards?  Smart as they are, I don't think the horses can be trained to use a horse toilet.  I didn't see any shovels around to gather the manure.  And I know for a fact that people don't have to pick up horse manure on the trails.  While I must carry doggie poop bags, I have to walk around the much larger piles of horse manure on the multi-use trails.  (I still don't understand why I can't simply use a stick to get my the doggie poop off the trail.)

So the issue of the horse manure bin remains a mystery.  But I think I might be able to find the answer to that one.  I'll never find an answer as to how so many people can be so swayed by a television advertisement.  I want to shout to them to learn about the candidates, recognize the rhetoric, get informed, and stop letting the very rich buy our political process.