Journal of a Sabbatical

August 9, 2000

it's hot and titan wants to get into the fridge

Adopt these cats at Merrimack River Feline Rescue Society.

Today's Bird Sightings:
Plum Island
tree swallow (thousands)
least tern (1)
common tern (2)
American black duck (4)
great egret (1)
snowy egret (1)
greater yellowlegs (1)
stilt sandpiper (1)
mourning dove (1)
cedar waxwing (3)
herring gull (2)

Today's Reading: The Sea and the Ice by Louis J. Halle, Butterflies through Binoculars

Today's Starting Pitcher: Jeff Fassero

I thought raccoons were supposed to be nocturnal. The babies in the cage behind the cat shelter are roughhousing, climbing, and jumping all over the place. They're just too cute. I must take pictures before I go in to start cleaning. They're almost as much fun as cats.

The horrid heat has returned after a brief respite last night. The air-conditioners are on but it's hot and Titan wants to get into the fridge. It's about time we defrosted that huge lump of ice that masquerades as the freezer, so the little fridge is powered off and its door propped open. Titan can't resist the cool dark interior. That's all we need is for Titan to get in there and Sandy to knock the door shut while leaping from the big yellow bucket. I shoo Titan away six times. Sandy stretches out on the floor in front of the big yellow bucket where he can keep a close eye on Titan. After I splash a little water on Titan and kick the fridge door closed so it can defrost in peace, Titan takes up supervising the whole place from the top perch on the cat gym - normally occupied by Miss Newburyport.

Miss Newburyport is in the laundry room, happily grooming herself and looking more relaxed than I've ever seen her. Everybody who goes in there exclaims "Miss Newburyport is in the laundry room?!?" Hmm, an occasion for the interabang if ever there were one. Guess Titan's going for world domination instead of the laundry room after all.

There's a URI going around again so the socialization/conference room is back to being a sick room full of sneezy, runny-eyed cats. Eek! Actually, that's one of the reasons it's so hot in here. With the sick room door closed we don't' get the air circulating the way it usually does.

Bubba got adopted already. One week sprung from the rabies room and he's got a home. Go Bubba! Whitney's name is up on the board too. White cats other than Jaguar usually find homes fast. August is barely underway, so the adoptions board looks pretty empty, but it'll fill up with names as the month goes on.

Sandy is conducting a taste test to determine the most delicious volunteer. It's between Bob and Roy with a slight preference for Bob. He nibbles Bob's hands but doesn't outright bite him. It's not clear whether Bob tastes better than really greasy donuts, but nobody brought Sandy any donuts today.

In the "this really is a village" department, Roy mentions he has to leave early to attend a funeral this afternoon. I ask if it's someone close to him. Turns out it's "Aunt Ruth", his daughter-in-law's aunt who lived at Brigham Manor. I remember making a special point of visiting her every time I went there after Roy told me she lived there. She particularly liked Jaguar, whom Roy always liked too. Small world.

Exhausted and sweaty after only a couple of hours' work, I attempt to revive with lunch. I'm still getting over whatever both Nancy and I seem to have developed on Sunday. Nancy she has a fever, but I can't tell if I have a fever or it's just the extreme humidity making me sweat and feel weak like this. Anyway, after the traditional veggie sub at Angelina's with two bottles of water instead of a soda, I feel somewhat able to make a drive-by birding pass and collect some more weed photos.

Swallows are massing by the thousands. It's truly amazing. I'm not in air, I'm in swallows. It feels like they are the air around me. I pull over and just watch them swooping in a dozen different directions, taking off and landing, perching ... They're putting on a show and it's fun to watch.

I'm still pretty tired and wrung out so I just scan the salt pannes casually for the garganey. I've already seen it, so it's not like I need it for a list or something. It's not within binocular range.

Only one of the suicidal mourning dove pair is hanging out at the usual spot. I hope the other one didn't get flattened by a car. This one doesn't hurl itself at the car, but it doesn't get out of the way either. There's no oncoming car, so I give it a wide berth - pulling over almost to the other shoulder in case it should get the urge to hurl itself at the car again.

Cabbage whites are all over the place. Tons of them. Turns out they particularly like purple loosestrife. Nancy mentions seeing tons of cabbage whites today too when we talk tonight. This must be peak cabbage white season. I look them up in Butterflies through Binoculars, where I learn of their fondness for purple loosestrife and their peak season, which is high summer.

On to the continuing weed series. I nearly waded into poison ivy to get a good shot at spotted touch-me-not. I have not yet photographed everything in bloom on the refuge. How many weeds can I photograph without resorting to purple loosestrife? Besides the purple loosestrife, I've been deliberately leaving out goldenrod (various species) and ragweed, and sumac because they're so common. I have this idea that I'll do the common ones last.

Common Fleabane	Spotted touch-me-not
More Spotted touch-me-not	Yellow Wood Sorrel

Back home, my tape has come. Hooray! Twenty rolls of half-inch masking tape await me on the back steps. Wilbur dashes outside to eat grass while I'm bringing in the tape. Oops. He's been doing this a lot lately. I guess he's forgotten how hard life on the streets can be.