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Friday, October 31, 2008

The Mighty Stonk

The Goddess Vanilla is in a mighty fine stonk. If it wasn’t enough being hit by pepper spray in the mall – I kid you not – silly *%^$#s – I've also had to deal with Guinea warfare.

But let’s rant in order, okay. (Ha, and there was me wondering what to blog about today…)

There I was in the store (for British readers, the equivalent of Marks & Spencer), paying for groceries at the till when everyone started coughing. As I started to leave the store, so my nose started burning (as if being addled by hayfever isn’t enough…) and I started hacking and wheezing. As I walked out someone muttered, “Shoplifter, pepper spray.” Huh? Since when does a store blast pepper spray because someone’s “lifted” an item? If it was an armed robbery and there were hostages it might have been different. So I came home, still hacking and wheezing, and, speaking with a deeply sexy and husky voice, I called the store manager. He, it turns out, was equally miffed. Evidently the incident had nothing to do with the store, but everything to do with the Blue Route Mall’s security “protocol”. Evidently the perp had lifted an item elsewhere in the centre, the security guards had chased and cornered said perp in the store I was in, and the perp had turned on them with pepper spray. Now from what I’ve been able to ascertain, you never try to apprehend the perp in the store or the centre because you have, no matter how many disclaimers you display, a duty of care to customers. What you are apparently supposed to do is to follow said perp out of the store and then take the necessary action. The store manager said he’d lost R30 000 in business in the 20 minutes he’d been closed and had had an asthma attack.
“I'd suggest,” he said, “that you phone the Centre Management and lodge a complaint.”
So I called up the Blue Route Mall’s Centre Management and asked to speak to the Centre Manager.
“No, sorry, the manager’s gone home for the day.”
Hmm, it was only 17h10. Evidently he keeps union hours. I was transferred to someone else.
“Yes?” barked the woman on the other side of the line, “So what’s your story?”
Story? My story?! At which point the Goddess Vanilla realised she could do righteous indignation, full frontal anger, icy disdain and a variety of other mean things without necessarily feeling any said emotions. Finally, all those years of speech and drama paid off. Yeah! I let her have it in tones that should have sent her cowering.
“Well, a person was caught shoplifting and that isn’t allowed,” replied the woman to my shower of “not acceptables” and clearly totally unimpressed with my display of outrage.
“Uhuh? And your protocol says it’s okay to endanger the well-being and lives of your customers in order to deal with a situation like that?”
What, I wonder, would have happened if the perp had been armed with a gun and started shooting at the guards and shoppers, rather than spraying pepper? Did anyone consider that? I guess not.
“Well, you’ll just have to call back on Monday,” she snarked without a word of apology or an “Are you okay, Madam?”
And call back I will. In the meantime I’ll lodge complaints on several local consumer websites and in the suburban press, because three hours later I’m still coughing and have had to use my inhaler which I haven’t had to use for years. Thank goodness it still works.



As I stalked through to relay the news to D, another situation met my beady eyes. Stroppy Old Fart was in the garden – and causing trouble. Stroppy Old Fart is the crankiest of guinea fowl with an attitude of note. He is bad tempered and cantankerous, not unlike Atyllah the Hen when crossed. SOF was standing at the feed-bin, hogging the whole thing to himself. The Guinea Family was feeding from seed scattered at the edge of the lawn and one small, and particularly tiny, peep decided she’d sup with SOF. Now one might expect SOF to be grandfatherly, you know, paternal. But no, not a chance. He just raised up onto his toes, started flaring his wings and aimed a savage peck at the wee thing. The Goddess Vanilla’s righteous indignation flared.
I shot out the door and stalked towards SOF.

But the trouble with SOF, like most stroppy old farts, is that he seems to think that age goes before beauty… He cocked his head at me and raised an eyebrow as I advanced and then, not taking the matter terribly seriously, he ambled off. I’m afraid it was his attitude that did it. I charged. SOF scuttled, he squawked and took off onto the roof, from where he regarded me with utter disdain. Hmm. I went inside. And as soon as I was “gone”, SOF flapped down and charged the entire Guinea Family. War. I was out like a shot, and damaged ankle notwithstanding, charged at SOF again, squawking in my own inimitable style. I swear I heard applause from the Guinea Family. SOF did a vertical take off that would have impressed the average Harrier pilot. He clattered onto the roof, cast me a glance over his shoulder and kept going. Hope that teaches the old bugger a lesson; harassing my little peeps in that uncivilized way! Tsk!



Oh bugger, now there’s a squirrel on my windowsill…


And the guinea fowl are hecking because it's Halloween and they are so not impressed...

Testing the Sotra bridge


I have used the initial picture here (a RAW-file) to test several software packages. However, I found that I wanted to use this one for something - so why not here? Though I have shown it often enough from various angles etc etc

(For the technical interested it was treated by Photoshop CS3 with the plug-in for RAW-files)

Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Menagerie Madness

Portrait of a Peep

It had to happen sooner or later. One of the peeps was always going to fall into the pool. And it was a good thing I happened to go outside a minute later. There it was, swimming furiously, looking for all the world like a duckling zooming along the edge of the pool, little orange legs running frantically in the water. The adults, true to form stood around and hecked and ba-kaaked and did nothing sensible.

I trotted over and fished the peep out of the pool and moved towards the flock to return him. At which point I got charged. By Father Guinea. Wings up and hecking at the top of his voice. I stalked up to him, put small peep down and said, “Shut up, you daft bird, anyone else would think some gratitude was in order!”

Father Guinea - a bird with views

But oh no, not a chance, Father G just stood there shrieking at me. I did rather wonder what would have happened if I’d pretended to be scared – would he have chased me across the lawn? Or what would have happened if I’d charged at him? The former would have provided good fun and games and would have totally disrupted the pecking order around here. And we can't have that. I am, after all, the Goddess Vanilla, Provider of Food and Water and Protection.

I just shot a beady glance at Father G, said, “Oh be off with you, you silly bird!” and waved a hand at him. Gone was the cocky attitude and Father G squawked and scuttled, but not before stopping to give me one final and meangingful, “Heck!

Drying out in the sun

It would be much safer (though perhaps less dramatic), one would think, to rather fall into the waterbowl...


I can see I might have to call on Atyllah’s Granny to instill some order around here!

And just what on earth is this? A guinea jacuzzi?


And oh yes, then there was this… I’ve heard of give a dog a bone…



The squirrels it would seem have finally gone a bit barking.

Tuesday, October 28, 2008

O is for Olsvold in ABC Wednesday

I suspect everyone who reads this will ask: Were or what is Olsvold? Olsvold is a small hamlet on the island of Radøy north of Bergen, Norway. It also happens to be my mothers maiden name - and thus also the surname of my grandmother.

Everyone has four grand parents. In my case, only one was alive: the mother of my mother, or "Bestemor" (grandmother) as we used to call her. She was a grandmother of the kind fairytales are made of. Living as a widow on a small farm with all the chores that goes with it, she had non the less always time for a small boy when he came to visit. when the 8-year old boy wanted to try out his new camera - she was there. When later on the terribly out-of-focus picture was presented by the proud little boy - the grandmother was even more proud. I don't think they make grandmothers like that any more.

She had only one son who ran the farm with her, but it was too small to feed them both, so he had to have outside work. He never married and passed away before her, and the farm passed over to a cousin of mine who has kept up the agricultural tradition as best as possible given the current
political and economical climate in Norway. But he also had to have outside work - as a teacher.

I took the pictures below two years ago. The main building is the white house in the lower left corner.




Here is the farm from another angle.


One result of all this - the name Olsvold is no longer in my family. A pity, really.



Today's post is part of the the third round of ABC Wednesday. The founder, Denise Nesbitt, has changed the rules to make the system more practical. There is now a no-comment blog where you can post a copy or short version of your post with a link-back to your original post for the full version and comments. Scanning through this no-comment blog will give you lots of Ohhhs (I hope)! She has also set up a site where you can log on via Mr. Linky if you want to do that.

Monday, October 27, 2008

A bridge - a part of my daily world

Those who have followed this blog will know that I'm interested in bridges - anyone living along the coast of Norway will be that. They will also recognize this bridge as the Sotrabroen (the Sotra Bridge) - a subject I have shown very often. It is also a daily part of my life since i Cross it at least twice a day. I'm so interested in Bridges that I host a small, monthly meme the first Monday in each month called Bridges between on this subject.

The present picture is also my first foray into the dark forest of HDR (High Dynamig Range imaging) . The aim of this technique is to extend the dynamic range of pictures and is supposed to require two or more pictures of the same subject. However, following the advice of Troy Mullens, I have tried to make it work with only one. This is based on a high contrast image - as I said, my first attempt.

Back to the present:

Have a look at other places around the world with That's my world.

That chicken insists on doing a meme...

Newsflash: I recently read about a campaign aimed at alleviating poverty and thought some of you may be interested in following it up. Called the Worldwide Blogger BakeOff Challenge, the campaign aims to raise $1million to help address issues of starvation in Africa. Actions include sharing and voting for bread recipes, baking and donating funds. Go and take a look.


And moving on from that, and because I am in dire need of some silliness after a very stressful week of medical tests which assure me I'm getting old and am generally falling to bits...

A few weeks ago, I was awarded this


And then last week I was awarded it two more times. Thanks to wonderful and very special Val and to irrepressible and hilarious Laquet! Thing is, the last two times the award came with a meme… hmm... and I’ve figured, because some silliness is good for the soul, that I may as well do the thing. It’s a one word meme, which I feel sure I will find a little challenging… And there’s another point. As you may well know, there is a certain alien chicken of my acquaintance who has a strange perversion; she actually likes doing the bloody things. So on her weekly check in, yes, she does do that you know, gets into my head about once a week with her telepathic powers just so she can tell me what a mess humans are continuing to make of the planet. You have no idea how loudly she’s been cackling about the credit crisis… If I hear another “I told you so” and “Well, what in the name of the Great Corn Cob, did you expect”, I am going to… I am going to… No, never mind what I’m going to do, I can hear her listening and it’s just not worth the bother.

So, okay, we’re going to take turns to do this meme. I’m going first. Yes, I am. So there… Ouch! Guinea fowl in the garden, alien chickens in my head… I don’t want to even contemplate where it might end. Ouch!

Where is your mobile phone? bedroom
Where is your significant other? bedroom
Your hair colour? brown
Your mother? hmmm
Your father? offplanet
Your favourite thing? books
Your dream last night? none
Your dream goal? published
The room you're in? study
Your hobby? photography
Your fear? none
Where do you want to be in 6 years? published
Where were you last night? bed
What you're not? dead
One of your wish-list items? published
Where you grew up? CapeTown
The last thing you did? typed
What are you wearing? trousers
Your TV? off
Your pets? wild
Your computer? on
Your mood? yes
Missing someone? no
Your car? fast
Something you're not wearing? feathers
Favourite shop? bookstore
Your summer? hot
Love someone? yes
Your favourite colour? rainbow
When is the last time you laughed? today
Last time you cried? lastMonday



Alright, shove over then, it’s my turn!
What happened to please?
Please? Oh pul-lease! Ba-kaak!

First of all, hello you lot – pleased to see me again? And hello to all Vanilla’s new bloggy friends. I hope you’re all nice people… There will be pecking if you are not.
Now…

Where is your mobile phone? Oh lord, humans! What’s wrong with telepathy, I ask you.

Atyllah, it’s a one word meme…
Says who?
The rules.
And whose rules might those be? Huh? Huh?
Erm, the person who created the meme.
And that’s important how?
Er… okay, you’ve got me there.
Don’t I always. Now, shut up and let me get on with it. My way…. I did it my way…
You’re not going to start singing are you?
You have a problem with that?
No, of course not, sing if you must, I’m just going out into the garden…
Ba-kaaaaak! Now were was I? And do I have your undivided attention? I so sincerely hope so…

Where is your significant other? Oh pul-lease, who’d want one – and only one at that…
Your hair colour? Yellow, orange, red – feathers if you please!
Your mother? Enjoying a corn syrup cocktail on Novapulse.
Your father? Trying to reason with Granny Were...
Your favourite thing? Corn and bugs and worms and telling Vanilla what to do.
Your dream last night? Pecking at a giant corn cob. Ha! Get your head around that Freud!
Your dream goal? To rule the world, muahahahahahahaaaa…
The room you're in? I’m not in a room, I’m in Vanilla’s head...
Your hobby? Riling humans
Your fear? Pul-lease, we Novapulse chickens know no fear!
Where do you want to be in 6 years? Hmm, now you see this is a tough one, it depends on several factors…

Atyllah, it’s supposed to be one word, remember.
Go. Away.
Yes, okay, going.

Where were you last night? Where I am today. Novapulse.
What you're not? Afraid.
One of your wish-list items? Multiversal peace and order.
Where you grew up? Novapulse. See, I can do this one word thing…
The last thing you did? Had tea with Granny Were while she telepathically communed with Great Aunt Aggie on Andromeda.
What are you wearing? Feathers?
Your TV? Stupid things, who’d want one?
Your pets? Pets? Pets! How incredibly undignified. Who’d force another being into that kind of subservience? Oh wait, you lot do…
Your computer? I am far too evolved to require a computer.
Your mood? Amused.
Missing someone? No, why would I, we are eternally interconnected.
Your car? I don’t have a car. I do, however, have a very nice little spacepod. It’s silver and can be cloaked to be invisible.
Something you're not wearing? Clothes.
Favourite shop? Shopping is a sign of a materialistic culture. We don’t have shops on Novapulse.
Your summer? Seasons are part of the human condition. Novapulse is a domed and regulated environment.
Love someone? Exactly what do you mean by “someone”?
Your favourite colour? Red and yellow and orange.
When is the last time you laughed? Today.
Last time you cried? Chickens don’t cry.

Right, I’m done.
Are you going to get out of my head now?
Hmm, I think so, it’s too crowded in here. You really should write that new story, it will at least make it less cluttered, and then you could also stop thinking about…
Yes, alright, I get your point. Bye, Atyllah.
Over and out, Vanilla.

Yes, well, what can I say…
I know I’m supposed to pass on this award, but I’ve already done so, so if you’ve can’t think of anything to blog about, feel free to nick this meme and if you like, award yourself the, er, award.

You humans speak such a damnable language…
Atyllah!
Muahahahahahahaaaaaaaaaaaa…

Odd shot - my first(?)

Oh, shit...


Please visit Katney's Kaboodle for more about Odd shots!

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Today's flower has wilted

A memory of a summer that was

PS The Today's flowers meme is hosted by LUIZ SANTILLI JR. . Please visit and enjoy.

Saturday, October 25, 2008

Fluffball Blessings

King of the castle...

I arrived home the other day to find the verge swarming with very small peeps... the first hatch of guinea fowl of the season! And a very special hatch indeed. You may recall some months ago I told you about arriving home just after we'd been married to find a new flock of guineas in the garden, and how they'd sung to us. Well, it was the same crowd. A double blessing.

A lot of small peeps clustered on the verge

I drove in, parked the car, grabbed the camera and dashed outside, leaving the side gate open. And as I snapped, so the small peeps all hurried through the gate... the parents calling them in from the top of the wall. That was on Monday and since then I've been a veritable Mother Hen.

Have we got them all?

Trying out wings and jumps

Wait for me, Mum

I think I've learned more about guinea fowl behaviour in the last six days than I have in seven years of living here.

Small peep

One sad thing, which I've long known, is that the mortality rate for guinea chicks is very high. Predators aside, it's like the little spark just goes out in some of them and they simply keel over. I've already buried one who did just that. Resultantly, the hen lays a huge number of eggs, up to 20, and if the flock is lucky, they'll raise three or five to adulthood. As it was, this flock started off with 19 or 20 (they are very tricksy to count!) and we almost immediately went down to 17. Numbers seem to have stabilised for the moment, but not without some intervention on my part.

Feeding frenzy

For example, the other day, the whole lot hopped over the little wooden poled garden border into the shrubbery, except for one small peep who just couldn't make the 12cm jump. And when he did try, he promptly managed to hang himself in the gap between two poles. Poor mite just hung there as I rushed out, gathered him up (peeping furiously) and returned him to his family.

I wonder... if I jump...?

The pool is always a worry, it's a death trap to small creatures at the best of times, and I'm constantly checking it to make sure no one has fallen in. It was bad enough having to fish out a very drowned shrew this morning.

The greatest threat comes from the black sparrowhawk who hunts doves in the garden. He's a young male and has already figured that there are fine pickings to be had. Yesterday morning he swooped and circled, coming in really low to eye out the chicks. For now, I imagine they're too small to be of much interest, but as soon as they reach dove size and bigger, they will be at huge risk. I don't mind the sparrowhawk feeding on plump, corn-fed and peanut-buttered doves, but I am going to have serious views about him picking off the guinea chicks!

Three in a row

The male guineas in the flock of five have become terribly territorial and the guineas that usually feed in the garden are having a particularly hard time. Fights break out whenever other males get too close and one poor female, who seems particularly broody but has no young of her own, gets seen off with some serious pecks. The pair that seem to live here, have moved from the main garden to the driveway where they are looking decidedly sorry for themselves.

Fight!

It's my territory. Do you have something to say about that?

I've also discovered that guinea chicks in need of a nap go up to mum and butt her chest with their heads, much in the way puppies or lambs nudge their mothers for milk. At this point the mother settles herself down and all the chicks crowd beneath her. How she manages to fit 17 littlies beneath her wings, is beyond me. And every evening, she gathers them up, heads for the corner of the herb garden and buries herself between the asparagus fern and the ivy and settles in for the night, not a chick in sight.

A downy bed

Is there room for me under there?

Mum's the tent

As for the squirrels, well, they've been trying to work out what it's all about. The young males are really not sure what to make of it, or even how to get round a mass of guinea chicks. Yesterday one, in a fit of consternation, simply took one huge leap and jumped over the lot!

Wha'! Wozzat?!

The lizards seem to be the worst affected... One poor critter was chased out from under the lavender and narrowly escaped with his life (by taking refuge behind the potted geraniums) as then entire guinea family descended on him, sharp beaks pecking furiously.

As for my garden... all the seedlings I planted two weeks ago are scratched and squashed. I'll be lucky if a single foxglove or dahlia makes it into being a full grown plant - it's a good thing that as of last year I opted to forego bedding plants and put in mostly small shrubs and perrenials. As for the lawn, it is in dire need of mowing and the paving in even more dire need of sweeping, but for now, I'm letting it all go a bit wild so as not to disturb my guests.

The big hit is the waterbowl...

As I type this, the family are clustered at the patio door, peeping and chirping and singing. I imagine that pretty soon one or two small peeps are going to venture indoors - and that will mean more fun and games!

Roosting in the sun

En famille in the garden

Thursday, October 23, 2008

Sky Watch Friday on Top




We are not alone in watching the sky. For some it is part of their duty.
PS Please visit Sky Watch Friday's own site for more.