Discovery Time!

  It was once said that there is "Nothing new under the sun."  Well, that may be so, in general, but it is far from true when it comes to me. There are so many things out there that are new to me!  I try to learn something new every day.  Son keeps after me to "use the brain" as he says it will become stale and those brain cells die.  Making new brain cells involves learning so I jump at the chance to learn anything I can.  Today, I researched a "new" ant.  By new, I mean new to me.  Granted, I have seen these critters about the Bayou at times but I never thought much about them, other than the fact that they were weird looking.  This ant does not look like the fire ants that build huge mounds nor the crazy ants that make small, but numerous, mounds.  This thing looked a lot more like a wasp that forgot to put on its wings.

  The ant in question is a slender twig ant.  It lives in pre-hollowed tunnels in trees, shrubs or reeds.  The entire colony can be inside a tree and no one would ever know as they really do not do damage that causes the tree to die.  The ants do, however, have a very, very painful bite! (Yes.  I found out the hard way.)  While fire ants can itch dreadfully, this is more akin to a bee sting.  It is just painful.  THEN, it itches. This ant feeds on live prey, fungi or tends aphids for honeydew.  

  While the ant seems like it would be a threat due to its intense bite, there is really no need to go on a search for them.  They are rarely encountered since they live inside trees and won't bite unless you threaten them.  My bite occurred because I wanted to see the underside of the ant.  (Not smart!)  I still do not begrudge the little guy for defending himself as I would have done the same.  So, slender twig ant went on his merry way after giving me a good nip!

A Near Drowning

  Late this afternoon, Mark suggested we meander about the hillside.  It was the perfect afternoon for that leisurely stroll since the temperature was not too high and there was a lovely southwest wind making it even more comfortable.  We started, of course, at the pier.  There, I spied what first appeared to be a duck in distress.  Then...maybe it was a cormorant.  Or...perhaps a large gull??  This was bewildering, to say the least.  Since the bird was off in the distance a bit and it kept going under water, I was just not sure what it was but I could tell it was not doing well.  With the small skiff on shore, there was not much we could do to help.  We watched and after a few moments, the bird managed to take flight...almost.  It fell back into the water but immediately tried to fly again.  This time, it used all its strength and made it to my brother's pier and landed on a post.  The bird was not any of the aforementioned fowl but rather an osprey.  This confused me as the ospreys are usually expert fliers.

  After a moment, the bird took off to the back of the Bayou where there is a dead pine tree that is a favorite roosting spot of the ospreys.  I told Mark we had to go check on our friend.  Once we neared the pine, I could see the bird trying to preen its feathers.  It was soaked!!  Poor bird!   I eased nearer and nearer fully expecting the bird to show some distaste for my presence.  It did not.  So, I sat on the old oyster bench and started taking photos.  I was only a mere twenty feet from the old dead pine and not much further from the osprey.  The treetop had long fallen leaving a short stob of only about twenty feet so my view of the bird was quite good.  It was at this time I realized that this was a juvenile osprey perhaps of the most recent nesting.  Obviously, its flying skills are not perfected and a simple dive nearly killed it.  The bird had nearly drowned.

  It did not take long for the bird to relax enough to carry on with its task of getting the feathers in order.  The osprey shook, flexed and stretched.  With each gust of wind, it spread its wings wide and let the air fluff the feathers.  Using its long, curved beak, it laid feathers back in place.  It almost seemed after a while that the bird was literally putting on a show for me!  After about a half hour and a hundred or so photos, I decided to leave the bird in peace and escape the mosquitoes that were gnawing on my arms and face.  Hopefully, the osprey will be alright after its terrifying experience of near drowning.  Take care, Little Osprey.  I am rooting for you!  You will get better with this flying and diving.  See you around!

Ok, so they bite

  It seems that I always have to find out things the hard way.  Never once has anything stayed in the head without a physical reminder to go along with it.  Sometimes it takes more than once!  Take this morning, for instance.  I have dealt with critters all of my life.  Growing up on a farm, you are exposed to just about every critter alive both domesticated and wild.  No problem except for the fact that critters defend themselves (and some are just downright mean.)  Growing up, I was bitten by all sorts of critters and lived to tell the tale. I have had rat snake bites, black widow spider bites, bat bites, otter bites (yes, an otter did bite me), cat bites, dog bites, bird bites and any number of insect stings and bites.  I came through them all fine.   (Note here, the otter and one cat died shortly after biting me so I garnered the reputation of being poisonous!  Biters beware!) \

  Years ago, I was bitten by a rather large centipede.  I remember it was quite painful.  That rascal came in on some firewood and decided to go for the juggler vein!  I received a nasty bite to the neck and it left me in pain for hours!  Yep, it seems I would learn.  Nope, I had forgotten all about that pesky centipede and its ability to render intense pain.  This morning, it all came flashing back like some big, bright boomerang!  Smack!  Duh!  Ouch!

  As I was preparing to do a load of laundry, a squiggly centipede caught my eye.  It had wiggled its way under the back door to reside inside.  Nope, not happening, Centipede!  Not being one to kill things needlessly (except roaches!  I hate roaches!  And termites...yeah, termites are bad.  And Eastern Lubber Grasshoppers...eww! Sorry for getting off track.), I slipped my hand down and under the critter.  I was going to gently pick him up, cradle him softly until I got outside then release him in the woodpile.  Sorry!  That sucker is now squished!  He died but not before he bit me!  Geez!  The thumb swelled to twice its normally chubby size and throbbed for over an hour!

  Perhaps now that I have been viciously reminded of the biting power of centipedes, I will think twice about being so kind to them.  No more being the nice, old lady that gently removes the critters from the house.  They will die by the very hand that once was extended in kindness!  

Never Stop

  Both my daughter and youngest son keep after me to never stop.  "You have to keep the brain working, Mom.  Never stop learning."  So, as feeble as the brain feels at times, I try.  This learning thing gets harder with each year added to my age.  But...I try.  That explains my sudden fascination with old clocks...I am learning clock repair.  It also explains my annual clue hunt...I create enigmas for others to solve.  And, while we are about it, this need for learning explains my nightly browsing of the Internet.  I am learning.  I read, explore and try to remember something new each night.  

  This evening on my last walk with the old dog, I came across an interesting critter.  A cicada was belly-up in the grass.  Its little legs were wildly thrashing about as if it could not right itself.  The sight reminded me of a turtle that had been flipped upside down.  So, I flipped the cicada over and thought it would take flight.  Nope, the thing started thrashing about until it was back belly-up.  Hmmm, ok, so maybe I should check this critter a bit closer.  This is when it dawned on me that obviously, the critter was in its final moments on this earth.  Tiny ants were infesting the cicada.  Well, nature must take its course.  

  When photographing the bug, the white belly stood out.  It seemed rather unusual since most of the cicadas around here have dark undersides.  The cicada had met its demise and was now being eaten by myriads of ants.  Armed with the photographs, it was time to do that learning.  What type of cicada was this and why had it died??  And, yeah, I do photograph dead  bugs at times.

  My first search brought up a rather unsettling thought.  It seems there is a fungus that stays dormant until cicadas emerge from underground.  The spores from the fungus immediately attack an unsuspecting cicada and attach themselves to the critter.  Then, it starts eating the bug from the inside.  I thought perhaps this was what caused the white underside of my critter.  I read further and found that as the fungus munches the inside of the cicada, it creates spores.  Once it completely obliterates the inner part of the critter, the abdomen bursts and the still live cicada shakes spores out as it flies.  The poor critter is literally "planting" the very thing that killed it.  The cicada dies and the fungus lives on to infest other cicadas.  Well, my cicada was intact so this could not be the cause of its death and there was no mention of the fungus being on the outside of the body.  Perhaps this was not right at all.  Learning is hard at times....

  So, a bit more research was done.  This time, the search was for "white-bellied cicadas" and there it was!  The cicada was not infested with some weird, gut-eating mold but was merely a cicada with a white  belly that had lived its life to its entirety.  It seems that my cicada was actually a Swamp Cicada and is often found closer to the ground than other cicadas.  While most prefer to be treetop songsters, the Swamp Cicada will serenade from low branches.  Also, it is sometimes known as Morning Cicada due to its habit of singing from dawn until noon then quietly resting the afternoon away.  

  My learning for the evening has made me more curious about these cicadas.  The morning hikes with the old dog will now find me scanning the low-hanging branches and listening for the telltale buzzing of this neat insect!  Never stop learning!  

Acid-spewing Monster!

  Life is full of lessons.  Some we learn from books.  Some we learn from past generations' teachings.  Some we learn the hard way through experience.  It matters not the method of which we learn but rather THAT we learn and that we never stop learning.  Our brains need the constant stimulation if we wish to remain mentally healthy.  Pop always used to say it was better to wear out rather than rust out. He did just that.  Up until the day he died, he was as sharp as a tack.  Physically, his old body just had enough and could go on no longer.  I would like to do the same.  So, with the urging of Son and Darling Daughter, I learn.  Maybe not as easily as in the past but I push myself to learn something new every day.  I want to wear out.

  Today's lesson was one that I should have known from experience but that part of the brain probably was taking a nap or something.   Son had put the boat battery on the back porch and connected it to the battery charger.  No problem...sort of...maybe.  The problem did not present itself as the battery on the floor but rather with trying to charge a faulty battery.  When I went out to feed our "new" cat, I noticed what appeared to be water around the bottom of the battery.  The battery was also making a rather strange hissing noise. Hmmm?  This was not good.  Batteries are not supposed to hiss and spew like some dragon monster!  That was not water but battery acid.  It seems that the thing had sprung a leak!  Sooo....now I had acid leaking all over the porch.  Not being able to lift the battery without getting the stuff all over me, I unplugged the charger and called Son.  He came to look at the thing and said to grab the box of baking soda from the pantry.  Aha!  Yes!   Baking soda!  Why did I not remember that nifty fix?  I had learned about that way back in chemistry class in high school. (In all fairness, that was eons ago so perhaps I had a reason for the lapse in good thinking.)

  While Son removed the battery, I poured soda on the spill.  Immediately, the stuff started fizzing and foaming!  The baking soda being a base reacted with the battery acid and neutralized it.  Now our porch was safe again albeit a messy safeness.  Son assured  me that once the stuff sat there a while and we washed it down with the water hose, the porch would be perfectly fine for our feral cat visitor to come eat his supper.  

  So...lesson for today...if a battery decides to spring a leak and spew battery acid everywhere, that trusty box of baking soda is the answer! Just cover the mess and let it fizz and foam.  Well, that and never try to charge a faulty battery in the first place.  And...maybe remember some of the things from high school chemistry class.  Fun times!

Things Can Quickly Change

  Mark and I have been starting our days by fishing.  Each morning before daybreak, we head to the pier to cast a line and also enjoy the sunrise.   Recently, the sunrises have been phenomenal due to the heavy cloud cover.  We sit back and enjoy a perfect start to our day.  The other morning, the sky was incredible.  Deep, rich colors dominated the entire sky and not just the horizon.  Brilliant reds ruled!  That, in itself, should have been fair warning but we failed to heed it.  We were intent on our fishing and not much else mattered. That inattentiveness could have been bad news for the two of us.  

  Along about 8am, we decided to call it quits and started reeling in our poles.  Clearing up the fishing gear, I turned to the north and noticed some heavy clouds overhead.   "Hey, we better hurry!"  No sooner had the words left my mouth than a loud crackling sound whizzed by our heads and the loudest clap of thunder I have ever heard followed instantly.  ZAP!   A bolt of lightning had struck less than a hundred feet from us!  Uh, oh!  Not good!  It is not the brightest idea to be on the open pier in the middle of an intense thunderstorm!  We both scampered up the hillside and into the Little Bayou House!  Never have two old folks run so fast!  Once inside, he and I collapsed in a fit of laughter!  The safety of the Little Bayou House once again surrounded us and we were relieved.  What could have been devastating was over!  

  Several years ago, our pier had been struck by lightning and it split one of the tall posts asunder.  Three foot long splinters of the post littered the pier and water.  Just think!  That could have been my head!  Yep,  lesson was learned.  Stay off the pier during storms and, if you are there, be alert to your surroundings!  The weather can go downhill really fast and, with no warning, can deal some mighty heavy blows!  Thankfully, I still have my head!
 

A "How NOT To" post

  For a few years now, there has been a huge upswing in "do it yourself" project books on the market.  It seems that folks cannot figure out the simplest of things these days without some step by step instructions.  Back in the day, folks used their brains or as Pop used to say "used the head for something besides a hat rack."  There was no "I do not know how to do it.  Let me get a book."  If something needed doing, you just did it. Useful knowledge was passed down from generation to generation like it was a priceless heirloom. (And it was.) All of that has seemed to go the wayside, though, nowadays.  Still, the folks who write all of the "How To" books are pretty smart as they are making a killing by selling what once was commonsense.  (That...commonsense...is a rare commodity these days.)

  I am not here to share a "How To" but rather a "How NOT To".  A friend came back to the Bayou today for a bit of fishing.  She and I seem to head to the pier no matter what the weather which was definitely proven today.  The north wind was icy and it had blown the tide far out from the shore.  That was not going to stop us from fishing just like the lack of bait was not going to deter us.  We were determined to fish regardless of the obstacles that kept bouncing in our way.  I showed her how to use the trap to catch bull minnows and I caught a few mullet.  We were good to go...except for the lack of water.  No problem!  We would just toss all the lines out as far as we could.  Once the lines were out, I tried to catch a bit more bait only to come back and find all of the lines in one cluster. My friend had moved the lines closer together so she could watch them all easier.  Uh, oh.  This could present problems...especially if a fish bit on one of the hooks.  No sooner had the thought crossed my mind than, sure enough, one of the lines started zipping out.  I reached down and set the hook in the jaw of a big redfish.  Not good.....not good.  That big fellow shot out across all of those other lines and no matter how I pulled to turn him, he was having no part of it.  My friend did not understand when I urged her to wind in the other reels.  I could only imagine the tangle once that redfish had his way.  Ok, so since the other lines were not being removed from the area, I had to turn that fish and direct HIM out of there.  Long story made short...I managed to steer the redfish away from all but one of the other lines.  Yep, he tangled but I still landed him!  

  So, folks, do not fish with a bunch of lines all cast out in the same vicinity.  Spread those hooks out a bit!  It is definitely not a good idea to have everything all bunched up together.  I think my friend learned a valuable fishing lesson today.  Even though only one other line was tangled by the fish, we lost a good bit of fishing time.  It took a good ten minutes to untangle the lines!

Lesson Learned

    I am never without my camera. It is a good, old-fashioned, honest-to-goodness camera and not some sleek, handy-dandy phone.  The thing weighs a ton and is a bit bulky with the extra lens and such.  Here lately on my hikes around the Bayou, I am beginning to look like I am packing to stay a while.  Now that I have a dog along for the walk, I carry the leash. (He runs free but the leash is there if needed).  I have a mug of coffee in hand and sometimes (very rarely) my phone.  The camera, two extra lens, leash and coffee are necessities...the phone is not.  But, needless to say, my hands are full.  Now add to the fact that I need batteries to run that camera and you can see where this is going.  It is going downhill really fast.

  In the past, I have always carried four extra batteries.  Old cameras use far more battery power than the new creations.  Technology is great but I am slow in learning so I stick with what is tried and true.  Those four batteries up until today were always toted in the jeans pocket.  I figure that small things can be poked there and forgotten until needed.  Pockets are great!  Batteries in pockets are not.  In fact, the combination is stupid.  I found that out today.  

  The last outing of the day started well enough.  I was loaded down with everything and out the door in five minutes flat.  Mr. PJ and I had some serious hiking to do before the sun settled down over the pines.  It does not pay to be out and about the Bayou after dark without a flashlight so we were hustling!  I am not sure how the old dog would react to finding a cottonmouth on the path so I am not even letting the chance encounter happen.  After about thirty minutes of hiking, it was getting hard to tell just what was a stick and not a snake.  Time to head back inside.  Once in, I unloaded all but the pockets.  

  After about an hour, I felt a burning sensation on my upper thigh.  Wow! What was wrong??  I reached in the pocket and found the four batteries.  Ouch!  I yanked out my hand and flung the batteries to the floor.  Those things were HOT!!  No..on closer inspection...one was extremely hot.  The other three were warm but not scorching.  I checked my hand and noticed a red mark where the battery had burned me.  Hmmm....something wrong here!  I examined each battery and found that the one (the odd one in the bunch!) had its protective shrink wrap torn away from the edge of the terminal.  Obviously, this had come in contact with the other batteries and somehow caused a current flow.  The battery was nigh on catching fire! These are all rechargeable batteries from Manor House, Westinghouse and Rayovac.  The Rayovac was the damaged one that caused the problem.  Now...before anyone thinks I am blaming the company...nope.  It was my stupidity.  My oversight caused this burn.  I should have done a couple of things differently and will from this point onward.  One...check the batteries for damage.  Even the slightest rip in the shrink wrap cover can cause problems.  Two...never tote batteries all jumbled in a pocket (especially with other items such as keys.)  While I had nothing else in the pocket, the faulty battery came in contact with the others and caused the overheating.  Lesson learned.  Time to find a battery case.