Hello, everyone! I finished the NaNoWriMo , with 50,163 words. Articles with writing tips, on the Examiner, totaled out at 9,508 words.
Add in the thirty videos, and I had a busy month.
Then I got sick, and posted this video. Cold medicine makes me loopy.
I have a streak of competitiveness that runs through me. So when I signed up for the Examiner and found out that they won’t pay me until I hit twenty-five dollars and only then on the twentieth of each month through PayPal. Well…
I had to get money in that first full month!
They have rules.
I growled at my monitor, “Alright examiner I am up to the challenge!” I have to fix some of the earlier articles to follow the rules, while I am writing new ones.
What I found is that writing about a specific ‘subject’ is a lot harder than it sounds.
Sometimes my odd sense of humor comes out.
Like this one:
“Why go to Spain on vacation when you could visit Hampshire instead”
My number are slow, or at least the money amount. Here is today’s tally.
Today I made $0.49 and I had 51 hits…
The average for the, Home and Living section was 16..
Hmmm!
Is my math right on this, I would need over 2,500 hits a month to get that twenty-five dollars…
Anticipating all that cash from the examiner… I started a laptop jar in the back of my closet. As of today I have a whole dollar-eighty! And a fake mouse…added by the cats. Woohoo!
Ahh! I love a challenge!
Here is a poem I posted in my last article.
party in the mushroom rings
by Gerardine Baugh
the garden faeries laughed
and planted seeds of fun
they whispered, it was they, who
mixed up the garden, and
planted the green beans far from their trellis
eggplant was placed next to the pumpkins
tomatoes rolled into the neighbor’s yard
they sang and danced inside the ring of mushrooms
table set,
feasting on strawberries and corn
potatoes and cucumbers
glasses rose
a toast to the gardener
drink of dandelion wine
the fey cheered and sang songs
of times past, and those to come
some sat under mushroom umbrellas
wide and white, others
sat atop, and
scrutinized with words of nettles
peals of laughter danced across the lawn
this, the dark end of the new moon
Purple Martins are very brave or very stupid, I haven’t figured out which, yet.
Martins will dive bomb anyone that comes out the door. They have a fit when I’m standing on the back deck. They will swoop and whistle. Nearly hitting me and Uriah! The cats watch from the inside windows and love the attention they’re getting from those beautiful little birds.
I have never seen feathers that matte black, it reminds me of charcoal. I have to admit my camera isn’t able to capture their beauty.
I love having them around. I will overlook their mud nests because they eat their weight in mosquitoes daily.
Purple Martins have nested around my house for years, sometimes with dire consequences. They can build a nest fast; within two hours they can set up home. My first summer in this house, I made a mistake of leaving the garage doors open while I cleaned out the garage. I had no idea they had made a nest on the electric overhead garage door opener. So when I was finished I closed the birds in the garage, accidentally. The only reason I knew they were trapped, was when one of my cats brought a bird into the house and let it go…
Last night I took Uriah for his walk a little later than usual. I was trying to avoid the mosquitoes by heading outside when it was nearly dark. That didn’t work. They were busy buzzing, and bugging me just as they did and hour earlier.
Wednesday is garbage day. I have notes posted to remind me of the fact. I only had a couple of bags I debated dragging them down the driveway, but last week when I attempted that, Uriah though we were playing and grabbed one of the bags, breaking it, and spreading the trash all over the driveway…
This week, I tossed the two bags on the hood of the car and slowly pulled out of the garage.
I rolled down the car widow as slowly passed that large Blue Spruce when I felt a pinch on the side of my face. My immediate thought was, “Mosquitoes!” I tried to brush it off out the window, except it wouldn’t move. The small inset struck itself to my skin. Without even thinking, I peeled it off with my nails. I was still slowly moving towards the road. (I have a four hundred foot driveway.)
I glanced at what I pulled off the side of my face and stared at it. It was upside down and wiggling its little legs furiously. It was cute in a way. Sort of! The shiny back body sparkled in the sunlight. I was not amused, when my eyes adjusted and I recognized it as a tick. Still irritated when I pulled back into the garage, I told my husband all about being ticked when I rolled down the car window. He couldn’t stop laughing,..at me! He said, between laughter, that he never met anyone who attracted so many ticks the way I do.
He called me a tick magnet!
I would rather be a money magnet!
*I have been out of it for the past couple of weeks. I realized I had written the above post on Thursday, July 1st and never posted it to my Blog. Way too many things have been creeping up around here and I’m not including the mosquitoes, or the odd looking flying bugs. I even made a video that I never posted… Ooops! Had to find it! Here it is! It is a little long- four minutes. You are walking with me among the milkweeds near the front pond, and you won’t be bothered by the bugs.
The weather has been interesting. High heat and humidity and storms that attempt to blow the house down.
Today, July 10 is our eighth wedding anniversary. I know I’m on the internet updating. Michael is still sleeping so it’s okay:-)
My husband’s health took a turn for the worse. I dragged him kicking and screaming to a new neurologist. He now has tests all this month. He can’t drive until we know what’s up. He is not happy about that..
I have had thyroid problems my entire life, I no longer have a thyroid and it still causes issues. Heavy Sigh!
Just before my husband’s doctor’s appointment, I decided to try for examiner.com and they accepted me. I will write articles on, Hampshire’s plant life. If you stop over there I would appreciate any comments. Or, just send me an email and tell me what I am missing. Or, just read. I need to work on the set up of the articles.
If anyone wants to try to write for the examiner and needs some advice on how to get noticed- ask me. I will be very happy to help.
If you give them my examiner ID number 56021 I get a referral fee.
I will keep posting here, this Blog is for me and all of you who like to take a walk without the bug bites:-)
I hope everyone is doing well. Be happy and safe!
Here is a video from Rebecca Novak she took these pictures at the Dekalb Animal Control in Georgia.
I laughed and cried as I watched these dogs on death row.
Please! Pass this on!
I was going to post this as a response to a comment. Then I decided it needed to be posted up front with the video.
Pit-Bulls are tortured to be mean. Pit-bulls were bred to be a nursemaid; a family’s protector.
We should have stricter laws protecting animals from abusers and exploiters.
But, so many people turn away from the anger and evil, allowing the exploiters to treat animals and people so cruelly. It filters into everyday living. We can see it in the oil spill, and the disregard for life there.
It is sad we can’t even fully protect humans from cruelty.
When that cruelty falls on innocent animals, and then rolls over children due to the disrespect and self-serving greed of an abuser, then we all feel the pain.
There are more than Pit-Bulls in that video. Maybe some one will adopt them.
Also, Rebecca Novak won’t allow a dog to go to a home with out training both the dog and the owners.
She works with a team of wonderful animal rescuers in Georgia.
I was shifting through bird names and I pulled up, Dickcissel. Then I Googled the Dickcissel’s picture; he looks similar to some of the smaller song birds I saw in the Blue Spruce just outside the window next to the computer.
Then I played the Dickcisselcall/song, both Sanosuke and Kaoru sat up and listened. As the young cats ran out of the room my attention turned back to checking my email. I had closed the site with the bird’s song, so when I heard a bird singing again I automatically rechecked my task bar.
It’s like checking if I left the iron on…not that I use the iron anymore.
It took me a minute to realize, that singing bird was coming from outside the window, in the Blue Spruce. And that bird was talking to my computer. Hmmm!
What all this rambling means is I added a Dickcissel to my list of birds I have seen and heard.
http://www.sdakotabirds.com/species/dickcissel_info.htm
I took this picture while standing in the kitchen, hiding behind the counter and zooming in through the window. The bird, I believe, is a Brown Thrasher.
What do you think?
I played the Brown Thrasher’s song and Sanosuke and Kaoru went crazy, again. I really shouldn’t laugh when they start jumping from window ledge, to window ledge all excited, but I couldn’t help myself.
http://identify.whatbird.com/obj/679/overview/Brown_Thrasher.aspx
For fun, I put together this video. Enjoy!Sweat ran down my back and I felt light headed from the heat and humidity. The sky above me was a hazy, darkening blue-grey with soft, puffy white clouds. The tops edged with a hallo of white sun. I watched a Blue Heron fly towards me from the west. He nearly disappeared inside the glaring setting sun. This is his usually way of approaching the pond. His large wings barely moved as he glided in. His long legs held out behind him and his thin neck stretched straight ahead in elegant splendor. Slowly, his heavy wings caressed the air as he slipped between the trees into the pond. His goal was to feed on frogs and catfish.
I was standing next to a giant Blue Spruce. It towered overhead as I pushed into its soft prickly branches. Uriah was half hidden underneath the thick needles. His choppy movements shook the upper branches and a pinecone hit me on the head. I tried to drag him out by his chubby body.
He had something in his mouth and he wasn’t giving it up! In the expanding darkness I couldn’t make out what it was. All I could hear was a loud, “Crunch! Crunch!”
I pushed Uriah to the side and yelled at him to drop whatever was in his mouth. He rolled his eyes up at me and refused to open his mouth. Like a spoiled kid caught eating a candy bar he swallowed his prize.
Using my walking stick I scrapped at the pile of grass that accumulated along the bottom of the tree. Uriah had his nose to the ground, digging at a specific pile of grass; he pulled out what looked like the remains of a nest and a decomposing rabbit. I saw the back feet and a sort of body, but no head or fur, except for a fuzzy tail. The entire rabbit was covered with the grass clippings and dirt.
Uriah and I started a little dance of power.
He tried to pick up the remains.
I yelled!
He dropped it!
I skipped backwards away from it!
He jumped forward and grabbed it!
I yelled!
He dropped it!
This could go on all night…
Finally I stepped between Uriah and rabbit, and pushed him towards the house. I could see his little mind whirling. He was storing this information, so in the morning he could reclaim his prize.
Mental note to self: Tomorrow get rabbit before Uriah does…
In the morning, I walked out with Uriah. The heat hadn’t abated, rather someone turned up the thermostat! I hurried around the house and grabbed a shovel and a plastic bag.
Luckily, Uriah spotted a bird near the garden and decided to chase him away.
I dragged the shovel over to the Blue Spruce and carefully scooped up the carcass holding it as far away as possible. I was surprised it didn’t smell. When I reached the drive way I opened the plastic bag and tired to figure out the easiest way to get it into the bag.
I looked up and saw Uriah trotting over to the Spruce, nose to the ground hunting out the dead rabbit. After minute he looked up at me and ran over. I knew then that this plastic bag wouldn’t keep Uriah away from the rabbit, and I certainly wasn’t going to bring it into the garage.
My next thought was: The burn pile! I could bury it there, under the ash.
It was relatively easy, the ground bowed to the power of the shovel and I dug a shallow grave. In the meantime Uriah had run off into the trees so I thought I was getting away with something..
When Uriah finally came back we took a walk to the pond where he happily swam in circle, then promptly ran out and shook all over me. He probably figured he was doing me a favor. It was very hot, and I was melting.
I stood in the heavy humid air, with the hot sun already burning my skin. It was only eight-thirty in the morning. Birds yelled at me! We scared all the toads into the water, I couldn’t see them, but I heard their heavy bodies making contact with the water the same way I do a belly flop. Ouch! With Uriah stirring up the mucky bottom I couldn’t see where they went to, even when I pushed through the grass and searched the waters edge. I had taken a picture a week ago of one floating lazily in the water.
I could hear my neighbor cutting his grass and a truck passing by on the road.
I shielded my eyes from the sun and motioned to Uriah to follow. We headed back to the house. I washed off the shovel with the hose before I went inside.
While I did that Uriah was nosing around the burn pile…
I was a perfect stuffed monkey 
Reddish fur with a beige tummy
face and feet
Until an animal got to me
Now, I lie here without arms, legs or ears
Even my tail was chewed off…
Maybe it was coyote
A raccoon
A fox
or possibly… a skunk
Could have been that rat
That rat
That steals Uriah’s food and rawhide bones
That rat
that digs the holes around the kennel
under the garden, and
tunnels alongside the horseradish plant
One day the hawk will come by, and sit
Quietly on the railing
waiting for that rat to make a mistake
when he is dancing
on the top of the kennel
Just under the floor boards of the deck
He will scramble up
to look in the kitchen window
at that point, the hawk will strike…
And that rat will be no more
To late for me, I lie here without arms,
or legs, and ears… even my tail is gone
I have all the time in the world
To wonder
Now what..?
Check out everyone at Jingles Thursday poets rally-
http://jingleyanqiu.wordpress.com/2010/03/24/thursday-poets-rally-week-11-march-24-30-2010/
