Journal of a Sabbatical

July 12, 2000

life goes on

Adopt These Cats at Merrimack River Feline Rescue Society

Cats and more at Bonnie Buckley's site.

Today's Bird Sightings:
Plum Island:
brown thrasher (1)
gray catbird (6)
American black duck (19)
snowy egret (2)
great egret (2)
short billed dowitcher (4)
least sandpiper (4)
stilt sandpiper (1)
Canada goose (104)
bobolink (2)
mourning dove (2)
gadwall (2)
mallard (1)
double-crested cormorant (34)
herring gull (4)
eastern kingbird (3)
cedar waxwing (4)
yellow warbler (3)
American robin (1)
common grackle (1)
American crow (2)
least tern (1)
northern mockingbird (1)

Today's Reading: Cape Cod by Henry D. Thoreau
Greater Newburyport: A Photographic Portrait
Today's Starting Pitcher: It's still the all-star Break. The Red Sox can't lose ground during the All Star Break. Although it was disturbing to see Nomar make 2 errors in the All Star Game.

First, a note from the vet downstairs: Mitty is a very sweet black and white female, approximately 8 months old. She's recuperating from injuries at Coastal Animal Clinic and needs a home. Contact Dr. Regina Downey at Coastal Animal Clinic in Salisbury, Mass. (Coastal doesn't have a web site yet.)

I think I forgot to mention in last week's cat update that Whiskers died. She had some kind of heart problem and had been sick off and on recently. She was staying in a nice foster home where she got to eat whatever she wanted, supervise the laundry if she wanted to, and just generally have as good a life as possible. Whiskers was kind of a favorite around the shelter, especially with Roy who doted on her.

New cats just keep on coming and we have a full house again - still - including the most adorable litter of kittens. Actually all litters of kittens are adorable. Some days I wish I could take all the cats and kittens home and pamper them the way I pamper Wilbur. Not that Wilbur would stand for it ...

Sandy hid out in the laundry room all morning, taking up two cat beds when he stretched out and just one when he curled up. He made it clear, with claws extended, that he wanted no part of humans today. Nobody else seemed interested in guarding the big yellow bucket or hanging out by the sink. Maybe he thought better of the whole idea of being my new best friend 'cause he can detect Wilbur's scent on me or something. Maybe he's just in a reclusive mood. Isolated and alienated just like me - and he doesn't even use the Internet!

In an effort to act as if the universe is still intact and life is normal, I browsed Olde Port Book Shop heavily. Domino was quite intent on leading me to the John Marquand shelf - meowing intensely until I followed her. I joked to Phil (the owner of the shop and person of Domino) that she doesn't remember that I already got a copy of Wickford Point finally. I sat down to browse that W.H. Hudson short story collection that I keep not buying and she jumped up in my lap to be petted. So I guess my karma around black and white cats is back to normal again. I think even Buddy has forgiven me - possibly. Anyway, despite lobbying by Domino, I didn't buy anything. This used book jones is way out of hand ... gotta get it under control ...

The bird universe is still intact also. I spotted a largish, gangly looking, sandpiper acting exactly like a dowitcher at the salt pans. Since any number of short billed dowitchers were around, I knew it wasn't one. Applying my foggy brain to the problem, I came up with stilt sandpiper. I checked the book and sure enough this fellow was the spitting image of the stilt sandpiper in the book. But wait, my brain is foggier than I thought. I saw this exact same stilt sandpiper in nearly this exact spot last week. Leafing through the notebook reveals that to be true. Better add it to the Plum Island life list, as I slowly but inexorably approach Ludlow Griscom.

Four cedar waxwings managed to seem like four dozen, they were so busy flying from tree to tree and shrub to shrub chowing down on berries of all kinds. Thoreau calls them the cherry-birds, but they seem to be omni-berry-ious. One of them posed for a picture for nearly a minute, but then was off to the next berry feast.

By the time I was done with stilt sandpipers and cedar waxwings, the miniature cold cheese pizza I'd had for lunch had worn off. I stopped at The Tannery Cafe for a veggie burger and lost my book-buying control. A new glossy coffee table book of photos of Newburyport and environs just came out. It's gorgeous. Lots of photos of Plum Island. Lots of photos of Salisbury. I bought one for Donald for his birthday (tomorrow) and one for myself. Hey, what can I say. It's the used books I'm trying to control. New books don't count. Picture books don't count - I don't have to read them.