For several years now I have been trying to persuade Peter to get a dog. In the meantime I have been content with babysitting our grand dogs and playing with Minou, the neigbours’ cat. Until recently when a different option became available.

You may recall reading about our mouse adventure with our grand daughter Agnes during the summer. She found a sickly mouse and nursed it back to health, only to have it escape. She was devastated; eventually her parents gave in and the family grew from 3 to 5 when 2 store-bought mice, named Missy and Sissy, arrived.

Recently a family situation arose which made it necessary for Agnes and her parents to move to New Zealand for a year. But Missy and Sissy? Well they don’t have passports! What to do? All you grandparents out there know the answer already…

Agnes began our mouse training well ahead of time. She showed us their habitat and their tricks through facetime. “Look Nana, here’s where they sleep, and here’s their food bowls, but there’s no bathroom. Basically they just poo everywhere.” Sounds great, Agnes. Then she began sending us training videos. “Here’s what to do if one of them gets hurt.”

The mice arrived on Saturday. At Agnes’s suggestion, we installed them in their new home – the sun room. We watched them play as we tried to figure out their names. After all, what parents, even substitutes, can’t tell their kids apart? Agnes pointed out some distinguishing features and then we had a test. I guess we passed because we went on to learning about how to clean their cage. I’m not sure how Lucy will feel about her extra cleaning duties.

Then we were taught how to provide entertainment. For example, add a toilet paper roll for them to use as a tunnel. Or hang a kid’s mask along a wire and let them use it as a hammock. Or a toilet. Another trick: wrap up a sunflower seed in a bit of brown paper and hide it. Then watch as they search and unwrap – just like Christmas. These activities seems to be like mouse sudoku puzzles – brain food.

Next Agnes told us about their other kinds of food. They eat little pellets supplemented with special treats including meal worms (dead, fortunately). But no citrus or cheese. What, no cheese? We thought mice and cheese went together like dogs and bones! Agnes also said the mice like having a whole tomato in their food bowl. I stared at her in disbelief and went to get a tomato. She laughed. “Not That big, Nana, a Cherry tomato!!” I still have a lot to learn.

Things seemed to be going smoothly – until Sunday morning…

I was in the bathroom changing out of my pyjamas, when suddenly I heard loud wailing coming from the sun room. I threw on my clothes and rushed over – to see the neighbour’s cat Minou crouched in pounce position in front of the mouse cage, her eyes bulging, her fur standing on end, and Agnes holding on to her for dear life. I checked that the lid was on the cage and the mice were happily playing, unaware of the danger. It was not a crisis yet. But Agnes had looked into the future and it was grim. She continued to wail as I gently tossed Minou out the door.

It seems that our loyalties have shifted. For the first time in history, the mice have won out over the cat.

Sue

Since the pandemic started, Peter and I have found numerous green places to walk. We have worn out several pairs of shoes and boots trekking all over the GTA. As we begin to think about spring and new places to go, we are looking UP.

Our city is blessed with 3 great rivers: the Humber, the Don and the Rouge. All of them have tributaries, valleys and walking trails along their banks. We also have parks; big ones like High Park, long winding ones like Cedarvale, animal-inhabited ones like Riverdale. Many community parks have playgrounds and picnic tables. And there are little parkettes everywhere; on street corners and in between houses. There is no end of pleasant places to wander in our great city.

But did you know that Toronto is famous for another green initiative? Yes, this city was the first in North America to adopt a green roof bylaw. Passed in 2009, this bylaw states that any new building over 2000 square meters Must have a green roof. Right now Toronto is estimated to have about 700 green roofs. Of course most are closed right now, but spring is coming up, the pandemic numbers are going down, and we can plan our visits ahead.

Lots of public buildings are getting into the green roof act. Toronto City Hall has a large green roof. There are apparently unique views of the city from the top of the podium, along with terraces, gardens, walkways and seating. The downtown YMCA features a green roof with plants and bushes, and a running track for members. North Toronto Collegiate Institute has a green roof on their new (2012) building, designed to promote storm water management and reduce summer heat gain.

Some institutions have green roofs where food can be grown. Ryerson University runs a green roof urban farm, which is so successful that a second one is being built. The space on the roof of the Native Child and Family Services building focuses on native culture: growing perennials, medicines and the 3 sisters vegetables: corn, beans and squash. (There’s also a firepit for storytelling and a small healing lodge). And that grand old lady, the Royal York Hotel, had a green roof installed back in 2011, where vegetables and herbs are grown for use in the dining rooms.

Libraries have taken on the green roof challenge too. The Toronto Reference Library Board added 2 new green roof areas to the building during their 2014 revitalization project. The roofs worked so well at absorbing rain water and heat that other new library branches, Fort York in 2013, Scarboro and Albion in 2015, and the renovated Bloor-Gladstone branch, all had green roofs installed.

Several green roofs are situated on the top of condo buildings. The lawns and plants are often accompanied by BBQ’s and picnic tables so that residents have an easily accessible outdoor party space, away from the noise of the city. It got me thinking…

Now that we have a “new” house in the city, I am looking up there too. Last summer the grass in our back yard suffered badly. Brown patches appeared and Peter spent a lot of time considering how to manage the grubs that seemed to be eating the grass roots from underground. Is there a place on our roof for some new grass? A few plants? Maybe a couple of chairs? The roof is not flat so we’d have to have cleats on our shoes. And a ladder. Then we’d need some sort of lift to transport our drinks and snacks. Maybe a porta-pottie, with a little sink…

It’s amazing what you can think of when you are stuck inside during this pandemic winter.

Sue

PS No picture of our green roof…yet.

Did I tell you about the gift one friend gave me for Christmas? It’s a tool to remove chin hairs. Now is that a friend or what?

I ignored this gift for ages. But then January got boring, so I locked myself in the bathroom one day and studied the package. I opened the box with trepidation. How did it work and, more important, would it hurt? I read the instructions, then carefully began on my face, slowly, slowly rotating the tool. There was no pain! Just a clean, soft hair-free chin. Next year I am going to ask my friend for some long-handled toenail clippers. It’s hard to reach way down there.

Since we have lots more free time in February, we can work at taking care of all of our parts. There are so many creams and lotions on the market to help us that we could spend the entire winter sprucing up! There are potions for every body part. The other day I read an ad for ear lobe cream. (Now really, do we need to keep our ear lobes from wrinkling?)

One day in January (a Thursday of course) I went to the drug store for supplies, including tooth paste. Without paying much attention, I searched the shelves and chose the brand that was on sale. That night before bed I opened the tooth paste and spread it on my brush. It was dark grey, the colour of charcoal. I looked at the label – it Was charcoal! Who knew that charcoal cleans teeth? All I found were stains – on the sink, the counter, and the towel, and a horrible gritty taste in my mouth. Being thrifty, we did not want to waste it, so we just kept using more and more until it was finally finished.

After we finally emerge from our bathroom chores, we still have time for our exercise routine. There is an interactive mirror we can buy: we stand in front of the mirror and watch as the instructor gets us to stretch and bend. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to watch all that fat jiggling around, but I guess it’s better than getting our exercise reaching for the chocolate box.

Speaking of taking care of ourselves, one really good thing about moving from the country to the city is that all our wellness needs can be met nearby. My husband Peter and I can walk to the drug store, the nail salon, the dentist, the bakery (for energy), the doctor, and even a lab that does blood tests, x rays, and other needed medical procedures.

But last week, because of covid, I had my first doctor visit by phone. It was to be a routine examination, reviewing my prescriptions and checking on my overall health. The doctor called about 15 minutes late, not nearly as late as I have often waited for her in her office. And there were no covid germs (that I know of) in my kitchen where I took the call. Following our phone conversation, she sent me, by email, all the various requisitions for blood tests and other routine procedures I needed. The whole experience was efficient and safe.

A couple of days later, after I had checked for chin hairs and tooth paste stains, Peter and I “dressed up” in our winter coats and walked to the medical lab for blood tests. It was a lovely walk, along a river and over a bridge. The lab was well-organized with appointments spread out. The technicians were covered in masks, face shields, gloves and gowns. A short time later we were on our way home with tests done, a few donuts, and 10,000 steps to our credit. Even during a pandemic, city living has a lot to offer.

This February, stay safe and take care of all your parts.

Sue

So what have we been doing lately to keep busy? Well, I signed up for an online Italian course, and planned 2 covid birthday “parties.” And my husband Peter got a new IPAD. All 3 of these activities led us back into the scary, dangerous world of technology.

First Peter opened the box of his new IPAD. That was the easy part. Then the fun began. The questions were never-ending and most of them were asking for passwords: internet password, email password, Apple password. Who knew we had so many different passwords? And how could we remember them? A few phone calls to our “techie” son, Daniel, and things started to move forward. Peter had great fun answering the security questions: “Where did your parents meet?” Well, he wasn’t there at the time, so how was he supposed to know? Eventually, he moved on to the next step, which was much harder…

Meanwhile I was working on a technical problem of my own. The Italian course textbook came with a DVD. So where to play it? A search of my laptop revealed the sad truth – no slot for a DVD. I finally found a DVD player under the TV but it was not hooked up. It was a leftover task from our move to the city 2 years ago. I looked at the DVD player – where, and how, to plug it in? And, of the 7 different cords available, which one to use?

Then a third problem surfaced. We were supposed to meet my son James at a takeout restaurant for his birthday lunch. But we needed to order the food ahead of time. Meanwhile Peter was busy using our landline and the internet to set up his new IPAD. So how was I to order the food? I got out my cell phone and called the restaurant. The voice message was clear: ” Please register online to set up an account and place your order.”

Frustration was beginning to set in. How could 2 university-educated adults be so thwarted in this world of technology?

Finally someone in the restaurant answered the phone and I was able to order the birthday lunches. Then I dragged Peter away from his IPAD set-up and we drove to the restaurant. We parked in the parking lot beside James and his wife Glenda. We called the restaurant again, told them our parking spot number, and the food was delivered pretty fast. As we ate James’ birthday lunch in our separate cars, we rolled down one window each and talked at a distance We saw his new hairstyle and caught up on news.

James seemed to be enjoying his birthday. He didn’t realize he had been set up – until I pulled the DVD player out of the back seat, along with the 7 cords, and asked him for ID. He figured them out and sat back, smiling to himself. Then Peter got out his new IPAD. This time James looked less excited. This was some birthday! I’m pretty sure I heard him sigh out loud, but he helped Peter figure out a possible next step for that too. Then he and Glenda drove off, rather in a hurry I thought.

By this point Peter and I were feeling good about possible fixes to our technology problems, and our birthday party, covid style. In fact, the birthday went so well that we did it again, on another day, in another restaurant parking lot, with my daughter Jennifer. Only this time we didn’t take her any technical difficulties. They were all fixed, at least for the time being…

Sue

As the US inauguration stares us in the face, I am torn. It will be wonderful to have a new leader in charge of our neighbours’ government. But what are we going to do without all that fun?

Our American friends have been our closest allies for years, decades, even centuries. Apart from our jibes about them: going back to the buffet table too many times, spelling words incorrectly (without the “u”), and having to choose between replacing the left knee or the right because they can’t afford both, we have sincerely appreciated their loyalty to democratic principles. And their warm southern weather.

Their newly (and fairly) elected president, Joe Biden, is right up our alley. He’s smart and principled. Although he is likely going to nix the Keystone XL Pipeline agreement, he has a wealth of foreign policy experience, and is respected on the world stage. He values climate change. He is going after Covid. Having suffered through 2 family crises, he has learned compassion and empathy. He is our (Canadian) kind of guy.

But that other one who is leaving, well that clown has kept us entertained for 4 years. Aside from the usual terms of endearment he has earned, such as sociopath, serial rapist, chronic liar and shameless braggart, he has been called other, more picturesque names, most recently in an article in the UK Guardian. Some of these I had to look up in a dictionary! How about combed-over cartoon character, opportunistic grifter, deceitful toad, quisling (traitor), effluvium discharge (waste), and orange blobulator (not even IN the dictionary)? You probably have your favourites too.

Articles are coming at us fast and furiously as the end draws near. According to recent research, the clown’s vocabulary consists of approximately 20 words, plus a few prepositions. He chooses win, smart, tough, amazing, tremendous, and terrific for himself, and weak, stupid, BAD, loser, dangerous, and drain the swamp for his enemies. Listening to a Trump speech is like listening to a 6-year-old. When confronted, he says “I know words. I have the Best words!” But only 20.

There were several situations where he stumbled over words larger than 2 syllables. Take Venezuela; that he called Venewayless. Or “origins” that came out as “oranges.” Or Thailand that became Thighland. Or the time he was explaining to his base that uranium, which he actually pronounced correctly, “did bad things, very bad things.” Things too difficult to explain with only 20 words.

Stories about the clown’s geographical, historical and scientific mistakes abound. Remember the time he re-drew the map of Alabama to include a hurricane that he had mistakenly predicted? How about the time he bragged about his planned border wall between Mexico and Colorado? Or when he visited Pearl Harbor and had to ask an aide to tell him “What exactly happened here?” Or when he contradicted science by suggesting that Covid could be cured with bleach injections?

This stuff is pure comedy. Even Saturday Night Live took this material and created incredible sketches with it. We entertained ourselves with Trumpisms for 4 years. It was all so funny.

Except that it wasn’t. It was pure evil, coming from a place of greed, lies, narcissism, self-promotion, and finally treason. He’s a president who, despite daily Covid death tolls of over 3,000 Americans, and now insurrections predicted in all 50 state capitals, despite all that, is planning for a final celebratory take-off; with a red carpet, and a 21-gun salute, as he rises in the air like some god.

Maybe we won’t miss that fun after all.

Sue

On a recent Friday morning, when our cleaning lady, Lucy, was scheduled to visit, my husband Peter and I set off on another adventure. And, once again, we found a unique neighbourhood right in the middle of this great big metropolis.

Wychwood Park had called out to us from a book: Old Toronto Houses. It was not too far away, at the northwest corner of Bathurst and Davenport. We drove there and discovered that the roadway was closed to cars but a pedestrian gate stood unlocked. After we parked the car nearby, we stole through the gate and up a steep hill. And there they were, a gathering of historic homes, surrounding a pond. It was idyllic.

A plaque on the side of the road told us some of the history: naming the area after a forest in Oxfordshire, England, the original settler had an artists’ colony in mind when he built his house in 1874. Marmaduke Matthews, a painter, envisioned a group of “cottages” overlooking the city. There was no CN Tower, and no high rise condos in the way, and the views of Lake Ontario must have been spectacular.

Slowly other artists joined Matthews, along with well-to-do businessmen who were drawn to an oasis away from the hustle and bustle of downtown. In 1906 artist and president of the Ontario College Of Art, George Reid, built “Uplands Cottage.” A couple of years later a prominent lawyer, Ernest Du Vernet, built one of the grandest homes in the area, complete with a ballroom. In 1911 Eden Smith, architect, designed a home with one of the first attached garages. Soon others followed suit, designing and building about 60 homes along the banks of Taddle Creek Pond.

Since the early 1900’s many of the homes have been passed on to the next generation, but several prominent Torontonians have also found their way there. One of the most influential was Marshall McLuhan, media guru, who shared the neighbourhood with the likes of financial minister Joe Oliver, Hudson’s Bay CEO Bonnie Brooks, and journalist Libby Znaimer.

Peter and I spent a very pleasant hour walking along the forested roadway that cirlces the pond and nearby tennis courts. We were not alone; several residents said hello as we passed by. One woman asked us if we had ever been there before. Feeling like interlopers, we admitted that we had not. She quickly reassured us that many people dropped by often to take advantage of the beautiful neighbourhood. She gave us a quick overview and wished us a good trip.

We followed the meandering roadway uphill and around the pond as we admired the unique homes, some brick, some stucco, all with unusual architectural features. The pond, originally a shallow puddle, was dredged out by the locals and is now the scene of hockey tournaments in the winter, and 2 swans, Oscar and Felix, in the mild weather.

After we got home, we decided to find out more about this distinctive enclave. Well, looks can be deceiving and Wychwood Park, like many other neighbourhoods, has had its share of characters and conflicts. An original trust deed, created to get residents to pay for common expenses, is often challenged, and bickering among neighbours is commonplace.

The biggest scandal involved one resident, Albert Fulton, who considered himself the steward of the area. He became upset when people started parking cars on the sides of the road instead of in their driveways. One night in 2008 he took his rage outside and began slashing tires. He was caught and, while waiting for his sentence to be pronounced, he drowned himself in Lake Ontario.

So this winter, when you walk around your neighbourhood, enjoy the architecture and natural features. And be kind to your neighbours, because you never know who might be dealing with loneliness or grievances, during this stressful time.

Sue

Back a while, I brazenly announced that November was the worst month of the year. Now everyone is thinking that January might be in the running.

The days are dark, cold, windy, and short. The streets and paths where we walk are sometimes icy, and nobody wants to start 2021 with a broken hip. And there will be days of minus 20 where even thermal underwear won’t keep us warm enough, so sometimes we’ll be forced to stay inside.

There is an emotional let-down after the high of Christmas. Even though we didn’t spend time with our families, many of us put up decorations and lights which we now have to pack up and store away. And we need to figure out what to do with those gorgeous red poinsettias which have no January relevance but extremely long lives. Left unchecked they can last until Easter.

Then we have to deal with the gifts we received. Those size Medium pyjamas, which might have fit us before we ate all that Christmas baking, now have to be exchanged – online. And what to do with the gifts we don’t want? That tacky sweatshirt with the covid sayings, or the plastic palm tree intended to cheer us up? We can’t even go to a Salvation Army store to drop them off.

But surely we can find some good things about January?

Despite the cold and dark, the days Are getting longer. Do you know that today is exactly one minute longer than yesterday? Yesterday the sun set at 4:55 and today it sets at 4:56. We can’t waste that extra minute feeling sad.

While we are putting away the holiday decorations we have the perfect opportunity to clean out cupboards, tidy up the basement, maybe even sort out filing cabinet drawers. We can set up the unwanted palm tree in a corner, order a load of sand, and have a beach party for two. Well OK maybe I am getting carried away…

When the weather allows, there are some interesting places to go on foot. If you live near the Junction, you can explore the Window Wonderland by walking along Dundas between Keele and Quebec Ave, enjoying the art work in the store windows. If you live near downtown, you can head over to Nathan Phillips Square, buy a hot chocolate, and watch the skaters. If you live near Lake Ontario you can visit after a windy day and see the gorgeous ice sculptures formed on bushes by waves splashing up near the shore.

January is a new beginning for online activity too. Unlike last spring when everything shut down, many lecture series, bridge clubs, and courses have been revamped to an online platform. And sports are once again on TV. Even though the audiences are pathetic cardboard figures with canned applause, the broadcasts still give us the chance to cheer on our favourite teams.

There is one big attribute of January for me: both of my children were born during this month, only (3 years and) 2 days apart. When they were little this was a problem. Because one was an older girl and the other a younger boy, they did not want to share a party. They felt that Fairy Princesses did not see eye to eye with Luke Skywalker. It meant 2 parties. Now that they are grown up they usually agree to share. So in a couple of weeks…wait for it… another party in the garage! Looks like I’ll be hanging up those plastic table cloths again.

And finally, January is a time for making New Year’s resolutions. This year, forget about the usual ones – losing 20 pounds and exercising every day. Instead, go for something more attainable, like remembering all the joy in our lives: good food, a warm home, friends and grandchildren to facetime with, and the possibility of a vaccine sometime soon.

Sue

The top story on the news yesterday? Not Trump, not the terrible bomb blast in Nashville, not the covid numbers. No – it was dog smuggling!

During this long, lonely pandemic, people are reaching out for something to cuddle, to talk to, and to force them into exercising. Dogs are the perfect answer. If you can find one. Several friends and relatives have their names on very long lists and their chequebooks ready in case they are lucky enough to find a dog that is the right breed for them. For some people, Any breed is the right breed.

Between us, my husband Peter and I have 4 grand children and now, with the pandemic, we have 4 grand dogs too! This number recently increased from 2, and both of our new grand-puppies joined us for Christmas – in the garage.

Once again we moved our cars out, and hung up the white plastic table cloths to hide all the junk. And this time we added festive red bows. The kids wanted us to set up a tree too, but their visits were going to be very short, not worth the effort of a decorated tree. Instead, we set out their gifts on tables and invited everybody to drop by to pick up the gifts along with Christmas-Dinner-To-Go. Visits at a distance – with no hugs, but at least we saw their faces!

And their new dogs. First came Finnegan, an adorable beige Huskie-Akita mix, with a cute curly tail and perky ears. He accompanied us to the park where the kids let off steam having a snowball fight. Finn was in heaven – balls to chase! He seemed shocked that they disintegrated in his mouth when he tried to chew them. Soon he and his family felt it was time to go home and get a real ball.

After Finn left, Teidi arrived with his family. Teidi (Irish for Teddy Bear), is a furry black and white Newfie. Right now he is a manageable size and loves cuddling. I wanted to hold him on my lap but he hasn’t yet figured out that I am his Nana and he has a duty to get up there. But he did snuggle up to my legs and kept them warm.

We have to admit that the garage is not a great party facility. The heating is negligible and the plastic table cloths hiding the junk are not exactly elegant, even with the red bows. But it is a great venue for dogs that aren’t yet housebroken. The concrete floor is very forgiving. Knocked-over drinks, muddy paw prints, and accidental pees are all easily washed away with the hose.

Now that the grandchildren are past the toddler stage, we have gotten used to good behaviour. They don’t even climb on the furniture any more! And, before the pandemic, they would go into our guest bedroom and play quietly together. Dare I saw that it was boring? So we are glad to welcome 2 new puppies to entertain us. Despite the fact that they are both going to be very Large, we have our hopes pinned on puppy training classes.

What I do know is that last Friday a warm hug, albeit a doggie one, was the perfect way to celebrate a pandemic Christmas.

Sue

As you finish decorating your home for the holidays, don’t forget to put red or green food colouring in the toilet bowl, to give your bathroom that added festive touch.

Only Joking! Sorry! I was just trying to take your attention away from the deviant virus strain and the impending lockdown. Despite all this bad news, there are still lots of worthwhile things we can do to celebrate. Readers pointed out that I had neglected to mention some important ones in previous posts:

First of all, giving to charity. This is an annual tradition with many readers, and one that is especially important during these pandemic times. One thing I missed this year was putting $5 into every Salvation Army drum I came across while I was Christmas shopping. It always made me feel less guilty as I was buying expensive and sometimes frivolous gifts for friends and family This year donations can be made online, if we remember to do it.

This year too it’s good to remember the extra effort from our essential workers: the clerks arriving at our favourite grocery store an hour early to welcome seniors; the technicians working overtime in our medical labs; the waiters at our local take-out restaurant who are trying desperately to stay afloat. A bigger tip, an extra thank-you; both go a long way these days.

Then there is Christmas music. Some of it is religious, some secular, and some, like Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer, downright tacky! But it all lifts our spirits. Since we can’t join others to sing this year, we can turn on Alexa and sing as loudly as we want. There’ll be nobody to hear our wrong notes with the kitchen windows closed.

One of Toronto’s long-standing musical traditions, the Star’s Christmas Concert at Yorkminster Church, is always sold out. Patrons line up a couple of weeks ahead to get tickets. This year the concert was virtual. Since choir singing is definitely forbidden during an airborne onslaught of germs, the choir songs were taped from previous years. But there were two well-known Canadian musicians, Jim Cuddy and Measha Bruggergosman, to spread holiday cheer. It wasn’t as good as being there in person, but we could sing along in the privacy of our homes.

And don’t forget the Christmas light shows. Check them out with a casual stroll around your neighbouhood, wearing your thermal underwear of course. People this year have gone overboard with outdoor lights, trying to bring a little brightness into our dark world. And we see a new trend this year – larger decorations on front yard trees. It seems that many people have traded their indoor trees, which nobody will see anyway, for larger outdoor ones instead.

Finally there are our traditional indoor gatherings with friends and family, which are strictly forbidden as the covid numbers skyrocket. Last week my husband Peter and I decided to try a park party with some friends. We chose a big park with tables and washrooms, and agreed to meet mid-day, before the dark and cold set in. The tables had attached metal sets which were so chilly that most of us stood, and nobody dared venture into the washrooms. But we managed to exchange Secret Santa gifts from a distance, and to have a Christmas toast with our water bottles. It was the shortest Christmas party on record!

As the big day approaches, I wish all my dear readers the best possible Christmas under the circumstances. Sing out loud in the kitchen as you prepare your tiny turkey, go for a walk in your neighbourhood to admire the lights, and call your family on facetime or zoom. And definitely try not to get run over by a reindeer.

Sue

Now that the days are shorter and colder, we are finding joy in our back yard. No, we’re not sitting out there, bundled up, on my red swing; we’re watching from our kitchen window. And we could learn a lot of life lessons from the creatures out there.

The centre of activity is the bird feeder. It’s dozens of years old and sits on a pole, armed with a baffle to keep the squirrels out. The birds congregate there daily around 9:00 for breakfast and then again around noon. There is a definite “pecking order:” the bigger the bird, the closer to the front of the line. The jays are pretty bossy so they go first; the tiny chickadees are the last.

The cardinals are a bit skittish. They wait in a nearby bush until the coast is clear. Then they eat with one eye on the food and the other one watching for danger. Who can blame them, wearing those bright red coats? One day recently I was looking for a photo for the front of our Christmas cards. We usually use a trip photo but, of course there are none of either trips or photos this year. So I thought a bright red cardinal on a snow-covered bush would be perfect. But would they sit still and pose for me? Not on your life! I finally managed to snag a picture but you almost need a magnifying glass to see him.

Every once in a while the feeder needs to be refilled. Peter finishes his morning coffee and then heads out. But one day he was late. There was a tapping at the kitchen window. We rushed over to see a woodpecker, pecking away loudly, telling him to get the heck out there and fill it!

Minou, the neighbours’ cat, loves the birds too. She doesn’t just watch, though. She has a plan. She lies under the feeder until she is invisible, covered by falling snow. Then she rises up, ghost-like, and pounces! Sometimes she even catches one. But the truth is she’s a picky eater, so she lets the bird go. Then she jumps up on the kitchen windowsill and meows for store-bought cat treats instead.

But the most entertaining by far are the squirrels. Somehow they manage to get up on the feeder. But how? One day there were Two of them up there! We are truly baffled by their agility.

When they figure out that the feeder is full, they begin their quest. First they try to climb the pole, but they get caugt by the baffle. You can only see their tails twitching below as they inspect the baffle ceiling for holes. Next they climb up on top of the swing and, after gathering up their courage, they make a flying leap for the feeder. Usually they miss, and spread out like a magic carpet, landing softly on the ground. After picking themselves up and shaking off, they climb up the magnolia tree on the other side of the feeder. Gingerly they test out the highest branch and make another flying leap. Oops – missed again!

But sometimes, when our backs are turned, they make it! We have spent hours watching, trying to figure out how they do it. How do they get way up there? Then one day Peter yelled at me from the kitchen window: “I saw it!” A very athletic black squirrel had done a running high jump from the patio, landed on the top of the baffle, balanced itself while reaching up and grabbing the feeder ledge, then hauling itself upwards. Success!

During these pandemic times, squirrels know that patience and perseverance pay off.

Sue