St. Patrick’s Day 2018

In the last two weeks, the Woodpile has seen two major Nor’easter storms. We have weathered deluges of rain, hurricane force winds, heavy wet snow, downed limbs, and power outages with ease. We are a hearty bunch. Not much bothers us.

St. Patrick’s Day has arrived, we went to Blackbird Tavern and to get some beer to celebrate and the sign on the door said “Out of Beer.” WHAT!!!! How can you celebrate St. Patrick’s Day without beer? I pounded on the door and demanded an explanation. The bartender told us, the deep snow and toppled trees have prevented the delivery trucks from reaching the Woodpile.

This was a major crisis. The mayor of the Woodpile declared a “state of emergency.” A special session of the Critter Council was convened. While listening to the councilors discuss airlift operations, I was reminiscing about my great-great grandfather who sailed from Ireland to America with only a handful of seeds in his pocket, his Irish pipe in his mouth, and old green leprechaun hat on his head. … wait … that’s it.

I ran back to the burrow and dug out the old steamer trunk that belonged to my great-great grandfather, and there was his hat and pipe.

We celebrated St. Patrick’s Day the old fashion way with a tip of the hat and smoking the old pipe.

 

Bushy

Mr. Nuthatch

Chippy

“Adorable Chippy”

“Tip of the hat”

Migratory Travel Agents

Bird migration is a really complicated business. Like humans who do a lot of traveling, the birds and ducks rely on travel agents, internet travel websites like MigrationAdvisor.com, and long term weather forecasts. They use these services to book five star stopovers and get reservations at the best natural food restaurants. However, you need to check out the reviews and not be taken in by the glossy photos in the brochures.

The weather forecasters (a bunch of groundhogs) seeing the recent warming trend recommend this time as optimum for migration. And then we got hit by two Nor’easter storms and the cold weather is back. A lot of birds and ducks got caught off guard.

The local Duck Motel (a negative 5 star establishment) overbooked the pond this year. On top of that the pond refroze leaving only a small open area. Management stuck the Ringnecks, Hooded Mergansers, and Bufflehead ducks in the same small pool as the Atlantic Mute Swans. Not a good combination. If you have ever met a swan, you know they are the holy terrors of any pond. I have never seen a more uncomfortable social gathering in my life.

Aren’t we all cozy?

 To the pass the time, the swans play a fun game. How many ducks can you corral at once? They split up into two teams. One team only gets four ducks, the other team get a couple of dozen.

This swan is about to give these mallards an unexpected wake-up call

“Finally, we have the pond to ourselves”

 

Ducks feasting at the Woodpiles' Five Star All Natural Restaurant.

This restaurant has its own snow plow. No getting cold feet while dining.

Bushy's Family

I know, it is hard to imagine Bushy as being a “family guy.” Part of it is my fault. I have posed photos of him diving head first into mugs of beer at the Blackbird tavern and as co-conspirator in some of my “adventures.”

This is Bushy’s youngest one. Here is junior practicing his tree climbing skills.

 Then there are the middle school age twins. They spend 95% of their waking hours eating. Thank goodness, they like to eat other people’s food, otherwise Bushy wouldn’t have any money for a mug of beer.

 This is Bushy’s teenage daughter Georgina or “Red” to her friends. Like most teenagers she likes to dye her fur unnatural colors and sleep late. I thought I would embarrass her with this photo of her snoozing.

Bushy's oldest is now a freshman in college. He was recently arrested for chaining himself to a tree to protest climate change. He is very proud of this jail house photo.

This is Bushy’s wife Jane. Believe it or not, they met in a dilapidated old dairy barn. It was love at first sight.

Mid-Winter Snack

You can't imagine how much homework I am buried under from law school. It ought to be a crime. suffice to say, the blog entry for this week will have to be short and bitter-sweet.

 Bushy invited me to join him and Spot for the annual mid-winter snack at the Woodpile. It is a tradition we started a few years ago. I had to decline this year. Spot tweeted this photo:

Law School

Humans sometimes attend “summer school” but at the Woodpile we have “Winter School”. One can either hibernate the long cold winter days away, or, do something more productive. I decided to apply to law school and I got accepted. The classes are held in a large cavernous underground lecture hall. I thought this would be an easy degree to get but the professor is really tough and there is tons of stuff to learn. (It looks so easy in the TV shows.) Apparently this is a three winter program (what did I sign up for!)

Professor checking that desk was all set

Chippy's Application (They accept all species)

Professor adjusting blackboard to perfect angle

Class clown!

That’s a thick book!

How do use a pencil? Everything is supplied, no excuses not to do the work.

Where do I sit?

Selfie for first day of school

Professor "Time to take your seats. We have a lot go through."

How many pages does this book have? 950 ... help!

I didn't realize how much studying was involved.

Valentine's Day

Chippy is stuck in his burrow because of all the ice and snow covering his front door. He asked me, Bushy the squirrel, to write something. If you haven’t looked at the calendar lately gentlemen, Valentine’s Day is almost here! (I hope Chippy thought ahead and stored something away for his wife otherwise he will be clawing his way through the ice to escape). All of the dads at Woodpile pooled our money together to do something special. We hired a photographer to do a Valentine’s photo shoot.

“I put on my tuxedo, lets go dancing.”

 “Godiva sunflower seeds for the love of my life.”

 “Will you be my Valentine chick-a-dee-dee?”

 “My heart grows 10x larger when I think of you”

Chippy thought this one was amusing “I am head over tail in love with you”

I don’t think the wife would agree with Chippy.

 “I love you with all my heart.”

[photographer’s note: there wasn’t a dry eye on the set – not that guys would ever admit to it.]

Super Bowl Weekend

It is Super Bowl Weekend!!! Now, I know your thinking the Super Bowl is in Minneapolis. But, I am thinking the Super Squirrel Bowl. For the first time in history, it is being held at the Woodpile. The Super Squirrel Bowl is the premiere critter sporting event of the year. It features some of the fastest, smartest, and most cunning squirrels in the country. These fellows can climb anything, jump the farthest, and defeat the latest anti-squirrel bird feeder baffles. Instead of robbing feeders, they put their talents to work playing football.

The typical flat perfectly level football field is simply not challenging enough for these squirrels. So, the end zone is a woodpile. Instead of running the ball into the end zone, they have to climb the ball into the end zone. Yes, they use a regulation size NFL football (it was “liberated” from the Patriots’ locker room).

The referees for this game have years of experience. Mr. Bluejay is known for his strict interpretation of the rule book. Mrs. Cardinal will bring you a bowl of sunflower soup if your injured on the field but don’t mouth off to her or she will give you a time out in the corner.

Tail gating parties at the Squirrel Bowl tend to get out of hand. They are total free-for-all events. The second you put out a spread of cracked corn and sunflower seed everyone shows up. The squabbling over the grilled sunflower seeds can be more entertaining than the game itself.

The Squirrel Bowl is scheduled for six hours before the two legged Super Bowl. This gives every critter sufficient time to go home to see the other Super Bowl. Two games, two sets of parties, what a day! It doesn’t get better than this.

 

TAILGATING PARTY

 Bushy is busy eating the roasted corn.

 Bushy’s cousin is munching Chinese sunflower seeds with his paws (so much for the chopsticks).

 

 Bushy invited his punk rock friend “Mr. Blue” who will is the lead singer for the half-time show.

 … who invited his entire fan club to the party

THE BIG GAME

 

Impartial referees for today’s game are Mr. Bluejay (who inspecting the end zone)

... and Mrs. Cardinal (who is checking the football is properly inflated)

 On the opening drive a member of the “Claws” tries to make a diving catch in the end zone.

It is ruled an incomplete pass.

The player wants a flag for pass interference but doesn’t get it

 Late in the 4^th quarter the game is still scoreless. The "Woodpile Grays” (our very own home team) has the ball on the 10 yard line. The audience is on the edge of their seats. Will they get a touch down?

The quarterback calls a running play … they push the ball through the uprights for a touchdown!

 In a celebratory end zone dance the player spikes the ball.

A young Woodpile Grays fan climbs up to touch the winning ball.

NOW BACK TO THE "OTHER" SUPER BOWL

 

GO PATS!!!!!!