Gossiping Church Ladies

California's official pajaro is a quail. They are large terrestrial game birds about half the size of a chicken. They are predominantly blue-grey in color with a head plume that curls forward. They remind me of little old ladies in dark suits with feathered hats. They waddle when they walk and their head feathers bob up and down.

The quail seem to spend most of the day hiding in the thicket in the yard North of Casa de Pajaro. Every time I set the sprinkler at the end of the big front lawn, the "ladies" come out to run through the sprinklers, search for worms and fallen seeds. As I approach, I notice them huddle together as if gossiping about me and then run off in a huff when I get too close.

Olive the cat is a bit leery of the quail, and they are definitely wary of her. Olive followed me down to the big lawn, but wouldn't get near the sprinkler. She waited by the driveway. When I startled the quail, they ran to the driveway near where Olive was in repose. The quail surprised Olive, who jumped and ran and the birds took flight to the cedar tree and I was left alone in the sprinkler.

Zen and the Act of Pool Cleaning

In the summer of 1969 I was eleven, going on twelve and living at Casa de Pajaro. In those days, it was Uncle Robert and Auntie Zoe's house. I lived there with my brother Mark; cousins Bobby and Teresa and Robert and Zoe. It was hands down the very best summer of my youth.

Most days were spent in the swimming pool, playing "keep away" with a frisbee (boys against the girls); seeing how long you could hold your breath under the water, who could swim the farthest under the water without taking a breath; making funny hair styles and even skinny dipping a night. All good things do not come without cost. Auntie Zoe had each of us kids take a turn skimming the pool for leaves. At age eleven, the huge 10' pool skimmer pole was difficut to manouver and I would do just about anything to get out of doing the job. I just couldn't stand looking at the pool, skimming leaves with the big clumsy pole and net, while what I really wanted was to dive into the crystal blue pool water. I would pay my brother to take my turn or trade other duties like gardening to get out of the skimming chore.

In the summer of 2008, I am here on my own most of the time, so I am the only one skimming the pool. It really needs to be done at least once a day as the grounds of Casa de Pajaro are covered with trees. The trees are beautiful, but the leaves fall daily. I don't mind skimming the pool anymore. It is a very "zen" action, like raking sand. The water is calm and still when I begin. I like to start in a corner and work my way aroung the pool skimming the leaves, grass seeds, fallen bees and flies into the basket on the end of the pole. It has become my meditation time. I think of nothing else but the next leaf to skim. The result is very rewarding - a clean pool and a calm mind.

Build a Better Bird House

At Casa de Pajaro there are bird houses in every low lying tree close to the house. My mom and dad loved feeding the birds and watching them play from the dining room window. Since I bought the place, the birds have gone hungry, well not exactly hungry, as it is summer and food abounds, but I have not put out any seed. I have also been neglectful about adding water to the bird baths.

The last time I put water in the big bird bath, Olive the cat jumped up on the edge of the bath, scattering the birds who were having a spa party and knocked over the round saucer that sits on the old pedestal comprising the bird bath. The saucer broke in half. I tried to glue it together with a super-duper-fail-safe new kind of epoxy that should work on ceramics, but it didn't hold properly. So a bought some stuff called "goop" to fill in the gaps. It looks awful and smells toxic. I am afraid to put water in for fear of killing the birds. Now, I'm off to find another saucer. This time, I will try gluing the saucer to the pedestal.

The bird house situation worries me. The houses my mom left here are too close to the ground and I know Olive can get to these houses with ease. I need to build a sturdier house and install it either on a high branch or on its own pole. I figure the birds are okay now, there are bugs and worms and seeds everywhere, but when fall sets in, I better have a bird feeder and a house or two that are cat-proof. There is definitely a part of me that says "just leave the birds alone and let nature take care of them". But, I reply to myself "Mom and Dad have fed and housed these birds and their ancestors for 20 years - they won't be able to survive without my help." Okay, I have to admit that statement is pretty lame, but I really did have this conversation with myself and the mama bird part of me is winning out.

While I am looking for a giant saucer at the local nursery, I will also seek the wild bird feed and materials to build a better bird house.

Olive vs. El Pajaro

Olive is a city cat who was rescued from a storm drain in San Diego. She lived most of her nearly two years inside our house in the San Diego area. When I moved to Casa de Pajaro a month ago, I gave Olive the opportunity to spend days in the sun, enjoying the outdoors. She has new cat friends and loves chasing butterflies.



Every morning upon waking I start the coffee maching and head out the door to walk down the driveway to get the morning paper. Its a leisurely 400 ft walk down the drive past the big front lawn and the twin cedar trees to the main drive lined by ancient fig trees. Olive follows me on my morning stroll, but stops short of the end of the drive. Instead, she sits and waits for me to pick up the newspaper and head back to the house. The past few mornings there is a bird that is clearly disturbed by Olives presence. The aggressive little pajaro dive bombs Olive and not just once. The bird dives beak first down on the unsuspecting cat, who jumps startled and turns to look at me as if to say "what the hell?" I don't think my little city cat Olive never had a bird attack her in San Diego.



I was not familiar with this pajaro and did not have a bird book handy, but upon describing the bird to a friend, he looked up the pesky pajaro in his bird book and thought from my description the the bird could be a Grey Jay. This made sense to me because the bird behaved like a blue jay, but was a sort of taupe color and white with a touch of black. I Googled "Grey Jay" and I do believe this is the species that wants Olive to stay away from the tree lined drive.



Tomorrow I will be armed with a camera in hopes of capturing an image of the pajaro with the lens, perhaps during her kamikaze lunge at Olive.

What is Casa de Pajaro

There is this house on the Feather River that has been in my family for over a half century. The house is on the old Henry Bird property, so I've dubbed the property Casa de Pajaro; the "Bird House". For so many reasons the name seems appropriate to me. My father spent hours watching the birds in the bird bath outside of the dining room window. He liked to call a group of bathing birds a spa party. There is always an owl living in the cedar tree above the old shop and black hawks that circle the orchard in search of their next meal.

Animals abound on the property. I brought with me a scrawny black cat named Olive, but she's not the only feline on the property. There are three other cats that visit daily. A timid calico, a grey and white alpha tom cat and a shaggy black and white cat who has taken particular interest in Olive. There are also deer, a doe a two fawn. The doe looks at me so inquisitively and won't run unless I really get too close. Moreover there are squirrels, skunk, raccoon, opossum, and numerous reptiles, plus the horses and dogs on the property to the south and the chickens to the north.

Most of the time there are no other humans here and it can be lonely. With all the life abounding around me, I can still feel very alone.