My Week

 Monday - shopping with Vee. We also went to the Secret Garden at the Ecos Centre where we found a shared interest in birds of all sizes.*

Tuesday - date with the oldies. The oldies aren't the oldies because we're old. No sirree! We are the oldies because we are old friends.

Wednedsay - a free day which I spent reading and doing chores.

Thursday - Buckna to return an antique scythe we had on loan. Martha and Evie came too and had an interesting conversation with the owner of the scythe about working in movies. 

Friday - the Bonnars called. Old friends and fellow descendants of the Family Robinson we swapped a Chilean Lantern tree for pansies. I believe we got the better deal. 

Saturday - I went to Martha's dance school's recital at the Braid and had the best time. It was so pleasurable and my face ached from smiling. The entire thing was a delight and Martha made us proud. She shone. No doubt, all the other parents and grandparents were just as proud as we were but... she shone.

The Banjos were here when I got back home. Jazzer made a delicious dinner but she lost it at the rice. So I made the rice. There was music (YouTube) and dancing (Jazzer). I wish I could dance. Still, I give it the occasional go. Bert never, ever dances in public. I asked him today if he ever danced when no one was around and he admitted he did. If it's a good tune. Jazzer might be able to dance but, as usual, her music choices are shite. Gabrielle? Taylor Swift? 

Sunday - a quiet day which I needed. Finished reading my Tana French and can now speak a version of snotty-nosed teenager. Apparently, I only need to say Hello? and Excuse Me! a lot.

Tomorrow I go shopping with Vee. I have to buy a new kettle.

*There are a nest of coal-tits nesting at the top of my window. A few feet over from that, over the front door, the spotted fly-catchers are sitting on eggs. And at night we can hear the young long-eared owls calling for food.

Long Eared Owls

Something happened last night that made me very happy. I went out at dark to check for activity around the moth trap and heard the cries of long-eared owl chicks calling for food. At least two, maybe three. So I fetched a lamp and went out in the direction of the wood. An almost full moon, the company of two dogs and a cat and all I had to do was follow their calls. I turned left into the wood, down what I call 'the track' and they were so near. A flaff of wings, as an adult broke cover and the owlets became silent. I turned on my heel and withdrew. The chicks calls resumed. I couldn't stop smiling. I saw nothing, I heard everything, I knew they were there. It was magical.

My own photograph taken in 2009 when the owls nested in Scots Pines close to the house but as the wood got bigger they withdrew further away. Wise owls.

What I Did On My Holidays

The main thing I did on my holidays was fall madly in love with my fourth grandchild, Emily. She fell asleep on me a lot and there is a part of me, my left side from my shoulder down to my breast where she has left a psychic imprint.

The next big thing was immersing myself in the world of trains with James. I have probably watched at least half of the available episodes of Thomas the Tank Engine by now and together with James I watched hours of YouTube videos of steam engines in America. These films are surprisingly soothing and proved very much so the day that James had the vomiting bug. His psychic imprint is on my right side, where his hard curly little head dug into my shoulder. These were my best times.

Of course, I got sick myself. There was the watered down Bert Flu I brought with me which lasted the entire ten days and which I still have although it paled into insignificance when I got the vomiting bug. I wasn't much use to Katy and family that day.

Another highlight was my three sightings of a Little Owl hunting on Sculthorpe Airfield. There were no photographs as it was dull and rainy on each occasion. I'd never seen a Little Owl in the wild before so it was much more interesting just to watch it rather than fiddle about only to end up with a mediocre shot.

And that is pretty much how I spent my ten days in Norfolk. Owls and babies, babies and owls. What could be better?

Owl Watching

Spotted this evening at around 7pm

Near

Nearer

Nearest

I really love having these owls so close to the house. The adult birds are (wisely) elusive but their young, when you are lucky enough to spot them, just sit there staring back. As they mature, they too, become shy and elusive.

Obviously these pictures were taken using magnification.

Potter's World of Owls

On Saturday afternoon Bert, myself and a selection of Banjos went to World of Owls in Randalstown to plant climbers. These climbers were mainly Clematis montanas, and they're going to help give the owls a bit of privacy. When they grow. If they grow.

I uploaded a few pictures over in Flickr.

It was a very owly Saturday. Ballymena's Tower Centre had a Harry Potter themed day and one of the 'attractions' was a display of owls from a local school of falconry. I don't think the owls were Potter fans for they didn't look too delighted to be there.

So I suppose loads of you, besides Ed, bought and read the latest of those damn books that have made JK Rowling, Daniel Radcliffe and the rest multimillionaires. I shan't be reading it just yet. Maybe if I'm ever serving a jail term I might get round to it. Despite my reluctance to read it I'd like a private email telling me what happened and who died.

A National Treasure

I didn't get a moment to blog over the weekend because I was so busy. Starting on Saturday morning we were inundated with visitors which meant that Bert was unable to clear off leaving me on my own to clean the house. Sometimes I wish Bert would fix up a shed for receiving company in. He could tell the visitors that Nelly was not 'at home'. Of course I would be 'at home' - I'd be 'at home cleaning'.

Or he could be honest.

I'm sorry but today we will have to drink our coffee and smoke our cigarettes in this comfortably appointed and 'all mod cons' shed. Today the house is out of bounds. It's Nelly's housework day and she is very dangerous to approach during housework. Think of a bull elephant in must and you will get some idea of her current mood.

Then there were people coming for dinner so including Pearlie and Lizzie that was six delicious meals to prepare. The main course, a dry chicken curry, was close to disastrous but the dessert, rhubarb and ginger crumble, was wonderful. Maybe I should just order in the savouries and concentrate on puddings. Pearlie refused crumble on the grounds that she 'wouldn't like it' even though she regularly eats those vile, doughy and shop-bought excuses for rhubarb tarts. Still her loss was Bert's gain.

Another highlight of the evening was the discovery of Bernie the Bantie's newborn chick. Years old Bernie is and this was her first baby. That rooster has certainly been earning his keep. It's amazing what a bit of the oul cock can do for a girl.

I spent most of Sunday morning crying. Why? It's my age.

To cheer me up Bert took me to World of Owls in Randalstown forest. There were no long-eared owls which was a slight disappointment but as I reasoned to Bert, why have long-eared owls when they know everyone's got their own. What? You don't? Sad for you.

We got talking to Mike who runs the project and before we knew it we were offering him ornamental trees for the sanctuary but hauling trees to a forest is a little like taking coals to Newcastle. Mike said he'd been advised to plant clematis montana around the aviaries to afford the birds a bit of shade and privacy. Did we know anywhere he could get clematis montana? Funny's enough.... So we'll be back and this time I won't have left my camera at Matty's.

Another thing that happened at the weekend was I got invited to have my blog archived by the British Library. I thought this sounded a bit odd so I checked it out. I discovered that at least two other Norn Irish blogs had been invited too. These are BreastFeedingMums and Peregrine's Bird Blog.

My own breast feeding credentials are impeccable. Katy and Zoe were both breastfed until 14 months and Hannah.... maybe a week or two longer....

And then there's my newly awakened interest in birds. Is there some kind of pattern emerging here?

Naturally I consulted Mr Bolan as to the wisdom of taking up this invitation. He informed me that it means I am a National Treasure and t'were no harm in it. So I did.

Return of the Owls

Can you imagine how happy I was when I opened the door at around 11 last night and heard -

this


The young owls are back!

We watched them swooping and diving over the stubble of a recently cut field. Hunting for themselves now. But maybe Mom still brings them the odd carry-out?

http://www.owlpages.com/sounds/Asio-otus-6.mp3

Human Watch

IMG_0752, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

They always come out about this time of the evening.

You could set your watch by the wee fat one with the camera.

The long thin one wasn't about for a few days but I see he's back now.

It's great when you see the old ones. They don't come out much.

What do you mean? Sure the fat one is old.

No. I mean the really old ones. The ones with the sticks.

Thank feck we're good and high up. I heard about that old one and her stick!

The wee fat one must have about a million photos of us now.

Nice Evening Isn't It?

siblings, originally uploaded by NellyMoser.

We must be the most peered at, gazed upon, papped owls in the county. Mum says we shouldn't encourage the humans and that long eared owls are supposed to be shy and elusive. We keep telling her that this is the 21st century and everybody wants to be famous now. Today Nelly's blog, tomorrow Bill Oddie.

We didn't like the look of that pair who were here yesterday, We hid in the trees and they barely got a glimpse of us. Horrible yappy dog they had too. The one with the beard kept throwing rocks in the undergrowth trying to flush us out but we weren't bothered. Nelly was ripping at him.

Wonder what's for supper tonight? Vole? Mouse? Or frog? We're starving!

Cheep!

Never Too Busy...

Bert's Cousin Margaret: Are you busy?
Nelly: Yeah.
Bert's Cousin Margaret: Really busy?
Nelly: Really, really busy. Revising. I've got this exam on Tuesday y'see. Why?
Bert's Cousin Margaret: Too busy to show me the owls?
Nelly: Never too busy to go see the owls...

Owl Watch

The little owl dudes are starting to spread their wings. Last night we saw two on the same branch and they kept flapping about from one place to another. Too dark for photography unfortunately. Bert thinks there might be three of them but we're not certain.

The Leitrim Sister was up this evening and she was very keen to go owl-spotting. We only saw one young one. Bert thought we'd spotted another peeking behind a big branch with her 'ears' on full alert. Next thing she took off. It was an adult. The little ones have a lot of wing development ahead of them. And they've still got fluffy bums.

Growing Like Goslings

I can still hear those young owls going, "Cheeeeep!" but haven't actually seen them for a couple of days now. Like Clint's goslings they're growing up very fast. Why it only seems like last week they were bundles of fluff, then only a few days later they're starting to fledge. Now they're surly teenagers who spend all their time in their bedrooms - that's when they're not out lushing cider or sharing their luv on Bebo.

Cheep!

This is the noisy wee bastard who has been disturbing our sleep. I took the picture at about 8:30 tonight. It's not the best shot but I like it. Definitely a long-eared owl.

Of Sticks and Starlings

Why do old country women hate starlings so? Matty never had any time for them – said they were dirty birds and full of fleas. And Pearlie and Lizzie seem to detest them too. Pearlie hates most birds unless they’re the pretty garden variety. She loathed pigeons, used to climb ladders to kill the squabs in their nests and claims to have killed crows by swinging at them with her stick.

We’ve a starling’s nest in one of the chimneys. Matty said, when she heard of it, that they’d fill the house ‘full of fleas’ but despite her dire warnings we’ve not lit a fire for ages for fear of singeing their little birdy bottoms. Then there’s the one that cheeps all night. At first we thought it was deserted in the nest and there was one night I was heartscalded listening to it and thinking of it starving to death. But it, or something, is still cheeping well into the night so I suspect it’s just a hungry hoor.

Aunt Lizzie heard it and wasn’t pleased. “If I got it,” she said, “I’d hit it a chap with my stick. That’d put the cheeping out of it! Them starlings is nothing but rubbitch!”

In my opinion old women shouldn’t be allowed to have sticks. They’re always waving them about, trying to hit people and chapping wee innocent birds.

Then Lizzie goes and leaves her stick in the van when Bert left her home. Pearlie was vexed and made Bert bring it into her house to ‘keep it out of harm’s way’. Bert says to his ma,

Sure what harm would it come to in the van?

Ye’d only loase it!

How would I lose it?

Oh – ye’d likely be kepping bastes way it or chapping something way it.

Sure what would I be kepping? D’ye think I drive about the country looking for bastes to kep?

Well ye might be hemmering something way it and break it!

Later Bert says to me,

Can you just see it - I’m wanting to drive a nail and I say to myself, ‘Now will I use this hammer here or will I just use Aunt Lizzie’s stick?’

And it turns out that the cheeping starling is actually a short eared owl. I saw it this evening! I wonder if Lizzie will still want to chap it with her stick?