ELEMENTARY, WATSON

 Get the bird books!

We've got a new species!

It resembles the Cowbirds that frequent our back yard but this one appears to have a blindingly white beak.

I've never seen one like that so it must be something new.

Let's blow this photo up a bit and get a better look.

About that time SWMBO, watching from the other room, said "It doesn't have a white beak, it's carrying something around in its mouth."

She said she'd been observing it and watched it even wash the object off in the lower water container before hopping around the yard with it.

I hate it when she's right so quickly but at least she *couldn't* identify what it was carrying.

The Cowbirds (if that's what they are) are a delight to watch as they usually fly up to the wall and strut along it's length.

FUTURE AND PAST

 I know I'm growing old.

After all, I was born in 1940.

But apparently that word has gotten out.

I received what I would call a "spam" email this morning from an entity inviting me to take a virtual tour of what they call "11 Beautiful Cemeteries" around the world.

Now I have no fear of my onrushing demise but I'm not encouraging it either.

So I declined the invitation to visit famous resting places.

I have been to the gravesites of my parents and my grandparents and I have seen a photograph of my great-grandparents tombstone.

But there's one place I probably will never visit but would like to.

It's now called the Taylor-Bray Farm and it's on the original site in what is now Yarmouth Port, Massachusetts where my 7th great-grandfather, Richard Taylor, settled after arriving from England in 1639.

He built his home near a large rock and became known as Richard "Rock" Taylor to distinguish himself from another Richard Taylor who had come over the pond at the same time.

The farm stayed in the Taylor family until the late 1800's when it was sold to George and William Bray, who farmed there for another 50 years.

They had a stone plaque installed commemorating the first Taylor's founding of the site.

I know, I can't read much of it either.

Now, in the way of the Bible, Richard begat Richard Jr, who begat Jasher, who begat Isaac, who begat Stephen, who begat Ansel, who begat Emmons, who begat Berthold, who begat Franklin, who was my father.

Of course there were many other children "begatted" through the centuries.

I remember once coming into a genealogy of our family and was being pretty impressed with myself until I read that Taylor was about the sixth most common name in the country.

But back to the Taylor-Bray Farm.

It's a National Historic Site now and a preservation website claims it was inhabited by Native Americans for some 10,000 years!

So there's a lot of history there.

But I bet Richard "Rock" Taylor would never have imagined that a very distant relative of his would someday make his living for a time as a "rock and roll" disc jockey.

SATURDAY PROJECT

 Banana Bread (with Walnuts and Coconut).

First cut.

Delish!

The coconut gives it an added kick.

(Mark Bittman's recipe)

THE FRIDAY FUNNIES

 To those of you who join me in being confused about what day it is, it's Friday.

Once again.

And I and my crack team of humorologists have been hard at work excavating some items from the Inner Web to titillate and amuse you.

So let us proceed.

And with that, fine friends and fanatic followers, I shall finalize this week of friskiness and folly and put a "finis" on it.

Now, let's all get out there this weekend and have a Fabulous Fourth.

Well at least those of y'all in the Yew-nited States of Amurrica.

I invite the rest of you to also have a great weekend.

Here, kitty-kitty . . .

TALES OF THE CARIB

 

Chili's calls it a Caribbean Salad.

Judy calls it "Mmmmmmmmm".

A STORMY SKY

 

And a hard rain's a-gonna fall.

RE-THINKING

 The birds that visit our back yard are a constant source of pleasure and ofttimes amusement.

For example, this sequence involving one of the doves.

I first spotted him on the wall contemplating a brief flight to the birdbath for a drink.

I grabbed a camera and was rewarded with this shot as he changed his mind, midflight.

Rather than landing, he aborted his mission and flew back to the wall.

I'm not sure what frightened him but a bit later I saw another dove marching around on the ground and the sight of a potential competitor may have been the reason.

At any rate, he sat on the wall for awhile before flying away.

Dare I ask if his mien depicted consternation or embarrassment?