The Occasional Squawk

Thank you, Lila, for the comment, my very first CHIRP OFF THE OLD BLOG!
And thus, this SQUAWK. Goodness that's hard to spell.

The humming birds have survived the Sturm und Drang so close to us of Hurricane Ike's passage to the north. One wonders where the tiny birds go in violent wind and rain. The surge from Ike flooded streams and rivers in this area, raising the water here up over a foot; until yesterday it still covered the docks and fish stations to the extent that ducks were splashing and washing on the usually dry cement dock. Today all is back to normal here. In the bay, however, several people have lost their fishing piers.

The humming bird feeders are in constant attendance by the wee birds. Hummers are surprisingly territorial and fight tenaciously for their sipping rights. Some, the relatively docile, can sit three at a time at a feeder; others drive away the competition with ferocious charges and wild flutterings of wings and yipping squeaks, then a circling around to see that the coast is clear, and when that has been absolutely determined, settle down again for their tiny sips.

The birds fly wildly and very quickly around my deck, zooming back and forth, up and down, sometimes in what looks like play, at other times like getting rid of rivals, and then again like checking out the opportunities. I guess, if one is two inches long in a world of much larger birds (including the three-foot high herons with terrifying shrieks and ominous huge wing span,) one has to be feisty, fast, and on one's guard. One of these little birds would make a tasty treat on a piece of toast. (Indeed in Shanghai, China, there is a tiny bird called the "rice bird" which is served roasted and whole on a piece of toast.)

This morning, Monday, there are 10 ducks clucking and sort-of chuckling contentedly on the dock; some have taken shelter from the misty rain under the fish cleaning station. The large birds have been coming by too, but not right now or the ducks would have fled.

The other interesting activity is taking place in the canal. Families of what I call baseballs, but which are actually called "cabbage heads" and are a kind of jelly fish, are floating gently down toward the bay. We have leaping mullets year-round, but in the fall there are Olympic-worthy exhibitions of triple leaps each 8' long, like champion skipping stone tosses.

Readers of this SQUAWK will also be glad to know that the papayas from my two trees are golden and delicious; so are the bananas. Plumeria is still blooming, the ginger too has just borne a cascade of pink bell-like blossoms; the new golden esperanza hedge is displaying its lovely flowers in the breeze. I've just planted another exotic tree: the "ilang-ilang," which is the fragrance I associate with Chuuk in Micronesia. Its blossoms are actually pale green long skinny leaves; and these are used to make "mar-mars," garlands for the hair. The tree is only two feet high; I do hope it will survive. I'm excited about having that fragrance join the plumeria and ginger fragrances in the garden. My tropical paradise!

When not to launch a new book: when hurricanes come like a series of stepping stones

Of course, of course, hurricanes make problems for all people in their paths. Still, I don't launch a new book all that frequently, and it does seem hard that Dolly and Gustav and Ike have to be having their adventures just now. Especially Ike, which may wash over my lovely little isle in my lovely little town on the Gulf Coast, leaving us looking like Biloxi after Katrina.

Hurricane or no, in various ways I'm looking for the people who will want to find my book. "Survivor's Guide to Grief" is designed specifically for the person newly in the paralysis, the zombiehood, of new total grief. It will help them because the book was written when I was in just such a state--astonished that such a pain could go on and on and on. It is extremely informal; not one footnote. I hope it sounds like an experienced friend talking over the kitchen table with a new survivor. We need this kind of help.

One of my friends has bought five copies to give to churches in his vicinity; another is giving several directly to friends who have lost people they loved.

I hope someone who happens upon my blog will also respond to this way of helping people in need, including themselves. If so, y'all know how to reach me--I'm still getting set up with some bookstores, but you can order from Amazon or from me directly by posting to this blog or emailing me at: pchapman01@charter.net or www.patricialucechapman.blogspot.com. The book sells for $14.95, with $3.00 postage and handling for a total of $17.95. Texans add a $1.23 tax to that, for a total for Texans of $19.18.

Have to close up and continue preparing for the arrival of Ike!