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Do the things you care about to the best of your ability.

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

Today that’s work. And cake. Cake and work. Mostly cake.

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Photo by Heather Barnes on Unsplash

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Me, this morning:

“I am going to get so much done today! My list is long but I’ve got this!”

Me, at noon:

“Hang on, how is it lunchtime already? That’s fine, I’ve still got lots of time.”

Me, as Mr. Man returns from early work because, oh hey, tornado warning:

“Seriously?”

Now I’m off to clear out the garage so we can get the car under cover, charge up all devices, and generally hope that this is a false alarm.

Fingers crossed!

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Photo by Raychel Sanner on Unsplash

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We didn’t go far today but we did have an adventure. A walk on a beautiful sunny day turned into a hike through a wooded ravine that could have been miles away from human settlements. Slick, steep trails, flocks of mosquitoes that chased us a kilometer or more, and the kind of quiet that is hard to come by in a city. All within a few minutes of the house.

It was hot and sticky and itchy and downright delightful.

I celebrated with a new version of a drink I remember from childhood, the lime freeze. Lime juice, ice cubes, simple syrup, cream, and a touch of rose water, garnished with basil from the back garden.

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Son of Bun

We are working on an alternative lawn that contains clover, so it was not a huge surprise to see a happy rabbit bouncing its way through the yard. What was a surprise was discovering the teeniest tiniest cutest little bunny in the back yard, munching on dandelions.

I shall name him Son of Bun!

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While I engage in the joy that is Tuesday and also wait for a bit of family news, here’s a window into the happy, hyperactive world of the West Texas hummingbird.

For more live bird cams (including some involving things you shouldn’t do with a squirrel!), visit Cornell Lab Bird Cams.

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“They fight not for the lust of conquest. They fight to end conquest. They fight to liberate.”

— From President Franklin D. Roosevelt‘s official address announcing the D-Day invasion

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I woke to a robin. 

First thing this morning, I glanced out the window and frowned. An odd little lump sat by the back tire of Mr Man’s car. My eyes aren’t great on the best of days and less so at 6:30 in the a.m., so I had to squint a little before I understood what I was seeing.

Juvenile robin. Not moving. Or… scratch that. Moving oddly.

Hop, shuffle, hop. Shuffle, hop, shuffle. Not going anywhere fast.

It looked like a wing problem, then I realized that it could be a leg problem and the wing was extended for balance.

I conducted a bit of research via the Ottawa Valley Wild Bird Care Centre, a great place that has been helping birds in the area for decades. They took in a mourning dove that hit our back window about a week after we moved in. (Turns out that spring sun renders the living room windows effectively transparent unless you add little stickers to the panes. The Center even gave us a number so we could track the bird’s progress. You’ll be happy to know that while it had a broken wing and pelvis, after months of treatment it recovered and was released with a flock of other doves. So it wouldn’t be lonely.)

Since we’re on the topic, here’s my related story about birds and window strikes: Things I Learned Today, or, Sometimes They Fly Away

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Fledgling birds, including robins, often find themselves out of the nest and still learning to fly. That is to be expected. 

If you are unsure if a fledgling is being cared for by its parents, watch from a distance for at least two hours…

The Center was closed anyway so we waited. The bird moved a little, then a little more. The leg still looked odd, though, so we decided it might be time to try to coax it into a comfortable and well-ventilated box and go visit the doctor.

Um, no.

The bird’s wings were working just fine. It wasn’t flying very far but it was flying, and not at all interested in taking a ride to our friendly neighborhood wildlife rehabbers.

The activity was encouraging, actually. The robin flitted. It hopped. It hid under a giant bush. What to do?

Not much. Short a Wile E. Coyote-style net and lots of dramatic, stress-inducing flailing around, there weren’t a lot of alternatives. I edged a little dish of water under the bush and backed away. 

We’ll keep an eye out for the bird and try again if it appears to be in distress, but for now, nothing more.

Sometimes there aren’t many options, and while I lean toward action, sometimes the best thing to do is nothing at all.

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Photo by Landon Martin on Unsplash

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Wild Wallflower

A few weeks ago, I discovered a mysterious stranger in my front yard. (Wait, it wasn’t creepy!) I noticed a large plant enthusiastically outpacing the rest of the yard’s late spring residents. It was obviously Something, but what? Rather than give the plant a chance to bully its way to King of the Garden I dug it up, put it in a pot and gave it a home in the back yard. Whether that home would be temporary was to be determined. What the heck was it?

I can now answer that question. (I’m sure many people would know what it is straight off the bat but I did not. Learning, it’s a beautiful thing!)

Meet the (checks the plant ID app, which is probably right?) Treacle or Wormseed Mustard plant. This is Erysimum chieranthoides, also known as a Wallflower. And here I thought that was just a metaphor.

I am Mustard, hear me rawr!

It is weedy in looks and habits, which doesn’t typically bother me that much, but it’s also a wee bit poisonous and very bitter. Most animals avoid feed contaminated by this plant’s seed. Sounds unpleasant. I’m afraid I will have to say thanks but no thanks. 

Also, my helpful app has another poem for us. It’s not actually about this plant but what the heck. Enjoy!

And then along my picket fence

Where staring wallflowers grow–

World-wise Old Age, and Common-sense! –

Black bonnet, nodding slow.

— Henry Lawson

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This could be a different plant altogether. Mustard? Canola? Photo by Mak💛💙 on Unsplash

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Courage

“You will never do anything in this world without courage. It is the greatest quality of the mind next to honor.”

― Aristotle

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Photo by Sharon McCutcheon on Unsplash

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Today in super excellent ideas I’m giving away for free: I’m pretty sure that turning used F1 tires into premium-branded garage flooring would be a no-brainer.

What Does F1 Do With Used Tires? – One Stop Racing

How much would a superfan pay to walk on Lewis Hamilton’s or Charles Leclerc’s or Max Verstappen’s tires? I’m going to go with A Lot.

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Photo by Lorenzo Hamers on Unsplash

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