Goo Patrol
by Kathleen Meyer
March 2013
March 2013
Early this morning seventeen marauding wild turkeys trooped into our yard, prompting me to dash out—still in my nightgown—on an erratic zigzagging course, barking like a pack of all-sized dogs, flapping my arms, and, finally, in exasperation at their meandering only a few feet away, letting loose an operatic scream that sent them skyward over the cattails. The big feathery beasts habituate so readily to my scare tactics, I’m forever challenged to add new acts. Guttural gorilla talk oo-oo-oo worked for barely a week.
If these none-too-lovely bird-brains were not snorting up pounds of expensive sunflower seed and laying down a slippery carpet of twirly goo—unlike the ninety-two well-mannered quail who visit from the river bottom—my heart would open to them. Still and all, I’m grateful for the health benefits of wild turkeys. They get my blood moving at top speed before breakfast, which cuts my coffee requirements in half. And if I could develop a bit more proficiency with the sling-shot (a Christmas present), I might cut the grocery bill in half.
If these none-too-lovely bird-brains were not snorting up pounds of expensive sunflower seed and laying down a slippery carpet of twirly goo—unlike the ninety-two well-mannered quail who visit from the river bottom—my heart would open to them. Still and all, I’m grateful for the health benefits of wild turkeys. They get my blood moving at top speed before breakfast, which cuts my coffee requirements in half. And if I could develop a bit more proficiency with the sling-shot (a Christmas present), I might cut the grocery bill in half.
Cute birds? Maybe, one at a time.
Now they are a weedy species. Prolific beyond belief. Pests!
As species continue to go extinct, the world will be left with those that are weedy, or versatile enough to reproduce at an alarming rate. That is, cockroaches, kudzu, flies, starlings, wild turkeys, and, of course the weediest of them all, humans.
* I’ve since been schooled in the California quail’s being an introduced species in Montana (brought in by upscale fancy “ranchers”—also from out of state—for fancy bird hunting), and they’re displacing lots of native birds who must vie for food and habitat. Yuk! Time to quit feeding those adorable bouncing quail.
Please bare with; I’m in the process of moving the rest of the Archives (below) over to this site and to mobile compatible.
Mentoring . . .
Spring Has Sprung
Who Pooped on My Head?
Goo Patrol
Dazzle Me
Down the River in the La-Z-Boy
Trail Reads
Running the Gamut
Hints for Hikers
OMG
Heartbreaking, Crap in Paradise
Mushrooms & Bathrooms
Least Publicized Job of Wilderness Rangers
A Short Non-History of Underwear
Walloping Airporter
Poop Can Save the World? You Bet!
What’s Up? A Festival and
FUDs . . .
FUDs . . .
A Dog Owner’s Shreeek
Giardia, Myth or Mystery?
Jumping Into the Wild
Goo Patrol
by Kathleen Meyer
March 2013
March 2013
Early this morning seventeen marauding wild turkeys trooped into our yard, prompting me to dash out—still in my nightgown—on an erratic zigzagging course, barking like a pack of all-sized dogs, flapping my arms, and, finally, in exasperation at their meandering only a few feet away, letting loose an operatic scream that sent them skyward over the cattails. The big feathery beasts habituate so readily to my scare tactics, I’m forever challenged to add new acts. Guttural gorilla talk oo-oo-oo worked for barely a week.
If these none-too-lovely bird-brains were not snorting up pounds of expensive sunflower seed and laying down a slippery carpet of twirly goo—unlike the ninety-two well-mannered quail who visit from the river bottom—my heart would open to them. Still and all, I’m grateful for the health benefits of wild turkeys. They get my blood moving at top speed before breakfast, which cuts my coffee requirements in half. And if I could develop a bit more proficiency with the sling-shot (a Christmas present), I might cut the grocery bill in half.
If these none-too-lovely bird-brains were not snorting up pounds of expensive sunflower seed and laying down a slippery carpet of twirly goo—unlike the ninety-two well-mannered quail who visit from the river bottom—my heart would open to them. Still and all, I’m grateful for the health benefits of wild turkeys. They get my blood moving at top speed before breakfast, which cuts my coffee requirements in half. And if I could develop a bit more proficiency with the sling-shot (a Christmas present), I might cut the grocery bill in half.
Cute birds? Maybe, one at a time.
Now they are a weedy species. Prolific beyond belief. Pests!
As our planetary species continue to go extinct, the world will be left with those that are weedy, versatile enough to reproduce at an alarming rate. That is, cockroaches, kudzu, flies, starlings, wild turkeys, and, of course the weediest of them all, humans.
* I’ve since been schooled in the California quail’s being an introduced species in Montana (brought in by upscale fancy “ranchers”—also from out of state—for fancy bird hunting), and they’re displacing lots of native birds who must vie for food and habitat. Yuk! Time to quit feeding those adorable bouncing quail.
To comment, type in the box “Join the Discussion”; then enter your name (or a handle, if you prefer) and your email address, which will not be published. There is no need to join DISQUS. Skip Password and check “I’d rather post as a guest.”
© 2011 by Author Kathleen Meyer • All Rights Reserved
Web site design by RapidRiver.us
© 2011 by Author Kathleen Meyer • All Rights Reserved
Web site design by RapidRiver.us