February 5,2007
Each week, a blood sample is drawn and the activity of the bone marrow is charted. Though I have been told these readings are “peripheral” because their indications are of happenings within that have occurred some time past, they nevertheless keep the doctors and myself informed about the workings of body and disease. I felt fine last week and assumed that readings would be at or near normal, but the immunity providing white blood cells were still at 2.9 (normal begins at 4.5) and we increased our hand washing and general vigilance since flu and other winter illnesses seem to be abounding in the community.
Birds at Sanctuary seem to have determined that winter is moving on – now the sound and activity is quite splendid in spite of the very cold temperatures. We had a wonderful visitation by a huge flock of cedar waxwings. I first noticed them several mornings ago when I was walking a part of the path that goes under tall deciduous trees that stand so close together their branches strike each other when the winds move them about. The birds were puffed out against the cold and sitting in the sunlight on the mid and upper portions of the trees. This gave the appearance of a strange and exotic fruit appearing on the winter bare branches, because the waxwings have a beautiful soft lemony colored breast with striking black features around the eyes and crested crowns. Today they are gone, but the black berries that had remained on bushes along the path all winter long have all been eaten. As autumn advanced and the leaves dropped from those plants, I had wondered why the birds didn’t harvest them, but evidently everything has its time and season. The small blue berries on the cedars in that area have also been greatly decimated.
Several days ago Charles was appalled to find slugs eating round holes in the leaves of his orchids in the green house. He immediately commenced the “slug wars” by first consulting Google to see what others had found to be the best weapons to use. One recurring suggestion was placing jar lids of beer out so that the slugs would be attracted to them and presumably fall in and drown. Charles gathered his ammunition of a can of beer and numerous lids and commenced to place them out but after several days, the slugs had not taken to this with nearly the enthusiasm that was promised, and I suggested that perhaps they weren’t interested in stale beer, but would prefer fresh each day. I was given “the look” and no further comments were made. Then, I saw Charles going down the stairs to the greenhouse carrying a saltshaker. “What?” I said. He informed me that another plan was sprinkling salt on the slugs, and since they were gathering on a windowsill, it was quite doable. When he returned I asked if it was successful, and he said yes, it worked. I asked what happened and he would only say, “It was not a pretty sight”. Apparently the slugs have been conquered and the orchids are no longer under siege, but I do believe that drowning in beer might be the more humane way to go.