Flight of Fancy

As winter closes in on us, I'm considering our chirpy friends outside. As you might have guessed from all the birds on my Christmas tree, birds figure prominently in my idea of the outdoors, although I don't consider myself a birder. When the weather starts to look like this, it's time to think about feeding the feathery things.

We have several backyard feeders, some hanging, some at ground level, filled with a variety of seeds so the sparrows, cardinals, jays, and whatever else is hanging around will find something to their liking.  This is my favorite feeder.

Yes, I have a bird feeder that's a cat. I learned a long time ago not to fight the weird humor impulse, it's too painful. My family learned a long time ago to pretend they don't know me in public.Wow-look at those fangs! Takes a pretty brave bird to come in for snack past those babies!

The Oklahoma Department of Wildlife Conservation also considers birds an important of our ecology, our environment, our economy, and our entertainment. They have a great site that tells you all about how to attract and identify Winter Birds.

Keeping the feeders filled is a Whee job. That's one cool cat, Whee!

It's a catcicle. A purrfectly frozen feline feeder. "Meowma, stop with the bad jokes."
HA! You are my spawn, aren't you?

The life of an Elf

I see elves. I see elves, which is way better than seeing dead people, or IRS agents, or your doctor. The elves are really, really busy right now, so I see them a lot. I feel kinda sorry for them, they look so tired.


Si-i-i-ghhh. Santa's list is never done. Checking it twice. Making all those toys. Do kids even play with toys anymore? Why doesn't Santa just make a bulk order for Wii games?

Loading the sleigh. Feeding the reindeer. Brushing the reindeer. Shoveling out the reindeer shed. And getting paid in fruitcake and cookies. I'm sick of cookies. For that matter, I'm sick of reindeer. C'mon, this the 21st century. We have rocket propulsion technology now, for Kringle's sake!

Oh well, my shift is almost done. I'll finish out this season and then look into vet school. At least I can claim some real experience with animals. Five hundred years of shoveling reindeer poop ought to count for something.

And then I can be a regular girl and hang out with my buds. I'll find a plastic surgeon and have my ears done. No more wearing only red and green. NO more reindeer!!

All I want for Christmas is a Hippo

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas*

Only a hippopotamus will do


Don't want a doll, no dinky Tinker Toy
I want a hippopotamus to play with and enjoy

I want a hippopotamus for Christmas

I don't think Santa Claus will mind, do you?


He won't have to use our dirty chimney flue
Just bring him through the front door,
that's the easy thing to do...

In my "Top 10 Best Christmas Gifts of All Time" is Helga the Hippo. She appeared in my stocking last year, after I sang this song apparently one too many times. I love the story about the song's connection to the Oklahoma City Zoo.
 
The song was written in 1950, and in 1953 was picked up by a promoter trying to raise funds for a hippo for the OKC Zoo. An Oklahoma gal, Gayle Peevey, recorded the song, and baby hippo Matilda came to live at the zoo. I've met Matilda. She wouldn't fit on my Christmas tree. Or in my living room, for that matter. You can listen to a recording of The Hippo Song here.

 


Helga has become a treasured, ginormously important member of our family, and the source of a hilarious hippo tradition. Whoever finds Helga hides her for the next person. She's been in the flour bin, the sugar jar, under cushions, inside pillow cases, in book bags, in the shower (she almost got whacked on that one, I thought she was a rat), to name just a few. 

 


We might go for weeks without seeing Helga, and then she'll pop up, only to go undercover once more a few moments later. She's kind of the secret agent of pachyderm humor. Help, we've been hippo-tized

*Song written by John Rox, 1950.