All right, it’s time for me
to continue announcing the
awards for exceptional service
by our domestic staff at
Stone Mill Acres. You’ll remember
that the first went
to Anne for tactfully banishing
a slug from the a
dinner salad, and the second
to Blue for gallantly
defending his buddy Simon
the cat from an affable,
overweight corgi.
The third award goes to
Simon himself for extraordinary
bravery under fire.
Before I can describe the
event, I’ll have to do some
scene-setting.
You already know that
Simon, successor to the late
Owen of such happy memory,
is a young cat, only coming
up on his second birthday.
And you know that,
unlike the taciturn Owen,
Simon never stops talking.
If he’s out near the barn
and you call him, he vocalizes
all the way to the
house. Inside, he follows
around any human at hand
and comments on everything
the person does. Other
times, alone upstairs or
down, he will sit, meowing
about anything that comes
into his head.
With that said, however,
he’s a great little cat and, it
turns out, a game one, too.
This was demonstrated last
week when, to reestablish
some temporary quiet in
the house, Anne urged Simon
out the back door.
Urged him out, as it happened,
right into a scene of
familial panic and tragedy.
Perhaps you like blue
jays. I don’t. Granted,
they’re handsome birds,
beautiful in flight and even
while preening on a limb.
But they’re coarse, unprincipled
birds, too, given to
robbing other birds’ nests
and shouting vulgarities at
every passing human.
I suspect their coarse
edginess mars their domestic
life, too. When a female
lays an egg or two, she and
her mate are good parents,
protecting their own nest
with the same energy with
which they despoil others’.
They both feed the gaping
mouths that greet them on
every return with food.
(Perhaps it’s my bias, but
while other baby birds chirp
prettily at that moment,
young jays are as demanding
and ungrateful as any
sullen teenager.)
When the moment comes
literally to launch their
young from the nest, I wonder
if strife develops between
the parent jays.
I can imagine a cawing
argument between them,
ending with the father booting
the baby out and into
the air. Most times, the moment
is right, and the baby
revs its engine, spreads
stubby wings, and flies into
life to follow the family tradition
of spreading mayhem.
But it doesn’t always
work that way. Sometimes
the bird is launched too
soon and drops to the
ground like an overripe apple.
And sometimes, I imagine,
the irascible baby won’t
wait, and launches itself to
the same effect. Once the
fledgling is on the ground,
there’s nothing the parents
can do but fly around in
panic, shouting accusations
at each other.
There is no chance of
survival is such a case. At
worst, the baby bird will
die slowly of hunger and
thirst. At best, some other
creature will quickly bring
things to term. Tragic,
maybe; but such dramas go
on constantly all around us.
Nature is ``red in tooth and
claw,’’ and we can only accept
the grim fact. Or,
translated into Disneyese,
we must honor the Great
Circle of Life.
Well, enter Simon, just
emerging from the back
door. He spotted the stranded
jay, instinctively knew
his part, and undertook it
at once.
If there had been wild
screeching before, imagine
what broke out then overhead.
As Simon tried to
carry out his assigned role,
the sky was rent with
screams, fierce caws, horrific
threats. The cat retreated
under the peonies,
lugging the still form with
him. But then he emerged
to face, not only a torrent of
abuse from above, but strafing
by the two birds.
Simon flattened himself
into the grass, ears back,
trying to reduce himself to
two dimensions and turn
into a kind of cat carpet.
But the birds, bent on revenge,
swooped lower and
lower, finally whacking the
back of his head with their
claws. The cat’s no fool. As
the jays climbed and
wheeled for another bombing
run, he scooted under
the peonies again, presumably
to complete the job
that Nature had meant him
to do.
I’m not sure why Simon
first came out from under
that bush — whether it was
bravery or foolhardiness;
but either way I was impressed
by the way he held
his ground, flat as a flounder,
lashing his tail. And I
certainly don’t fault him for
retreating again under the
bush. That was simple prudence
and quite apt. He’d
made his gesture, after all,
and didnÆt need to be suicidal
about it. That’s why I
am awarding him special
recognition for courage under
fire.
Simon has not, however,
forgotten that day. As often
as he comes out the back
door, he pauses to scan the
branches of the basswood
tree. They could be up
there, you see, still ready to
wreak vengeance.
Oh, my! I haven’t left
room to tell you about the
fourth award, the one to
me. We’ll have to wait till
next week to find out what
it is. I wonder, what it will
be?
Read about Jim Atwell’s
book, From Fly Creek--Celebrating
Life in Leatherstocking
Country at JimAtwell.
com.
Columns
Jim Atwell: Still another award
- Columns
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In These Otsego Hills: Continuing on from 1986 ...
We continue this week by answering the question we asked if anyone remembers the old Cooperstown National Bank? On May 13, we wrote: “Martha Dickison, Delaware Street, called to tell us about the Cooperstown National Bank where she worked at her first ‘real job’ after her graduation from school.
Continued ... -
Up On Hawthorn Hill: Spring inventions
The second line of Lawrence Durrell’s novel “Justine” reads as follows: “In the midst of winter you can feel the inventions of Spring.” I first read all four novels of his magnificent Alexandria Quartet during the year I traveled from Saigon to Paris after working in Vietnam for a refugee organization for several years.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Revving up for spring
Time to bring you up to date on Fly Creek’s happy clambering into Spring. First, the eatery scene. “Is Jerry’s open yet?” The answer is, “Oh, yes!” The porches are freshly stained; the lawns a uniform green, and the hop vines are already climbing the posts on the covered side deck. Blue and I went up there to lunch earlier this week, and I celebrated spring with my traditional bacon, onion and Swiss cheese hamburger. We two sat on the deck, enjoying the broad view and some spectacular clouds marching across, up toward Schuyler Lake.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: More from 1986 ...
This week we continue with the discussion of telephone service from the pre-dial days. On March 12 we noted that: “No one has yet produced a telephone directory from pre-dial days, but Doug Preston of New Hartford recalls that some business (which one?) in the village had the phone number 7.”
Continued ... -
Home Notes: Celebrations abound at the Thanksgiving Home
April was a month of celebrations and much to appreciate. We had a 90th birthday celebration for Wanda Noyes on April 4 including her family and friends. Personal care staff Dee Bouck worked with residents to hand paint Easter eggs for the tree in the activity room.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: 1986 continues ...
This week we continue our journey through the columns of 1986 with the answer to the question “for whom, according to tradition, was Hannah’s Hill named?”
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Baseball book features local contributors
Baseball is part of the nation’s fabric. Most kids have a memory of the game either from playing Little League, attending a major league contest or meeting a favorite player. In Cooperstown that feeling is magnified since we are the official home of baseball. We get to see firsthand what has made the sport the national pastime.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Ya really wanna know?
SETTING: Fly Creek General Store. CAST: Assorted seated geezers, drinking coffee. [Door opens, enter heavy-set geezer; walking slowly with wide stance, maybe prostatitis.]
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: Returning to 1986 ...
For the past several years now we have undertaken sharing some of the area’s oral history we have collected over the years that we have written this column. Therefore, this year, we would like to go back to 1986 to share that rather unusual year. Those who were here then no doubt remember that it was that year that the village celebrated the bicentennial of its founding.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: For reasons unknowable
[Jim’s reached back to 2002 to share one of his favorite columns.] My father was born as the last century began into a river village in tidewater Maryland. He told me once of a man there in his boyhood who, like so many, made a thin living tonging for oysters in the cold months and, in the hot and humid ones, crabbing and raising vegetables.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: CCS balancing act ... side two
Last week we shared a number of activities in which students at CCS can participate. We thought it was an impressive, if not overwhelming, list. And we are indeed pleased that the young people of our area have these opportunities. However, we think it is also important to keep in mind that these undertakings do have a cost associated with them. They are not free. In fact there are, no doubt, those who would say they do not come cheap.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: A graceful crowd
Make of this what you will, friends. I feel I’m really meant to share it with you. Despite good medication for my Parkinsonism, every four or five weeks I can sensethe symptoms building up on me, giving me more than ordinary trouble. Lately it’s been falls, and last week brought a typical one. I’d gone out to get the paper, moving along with penguin steps on the snowcoved ice patches, and usingmy spike-tipped cane the waya climber uses an ice axe. But circumstances overcame me. Parkinson’s wipes out the possibility of multi-tasking.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: This and that and the other side ...
We note that the CCS Class of 2012 is presenting its senior class play, “Snow White” by Tim Kelly, this week with performances 7:30 p.m Thursday and Friday, March 29 and 30, and at 11 a.m. and 7:30 p.m. Saturday, March 31. All performances will be at the Nicolas J. Sterling Auditorium at the Middle/High School.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: That green thing ...
Of late we have noticed that our email inbox has been much busier than usual. In fact, we find ourselves hard pressed to keep up with all the various messages we receive. As a result we suspect we have not answered some in as timely a fashion as might be thought appropriate.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: What you need to know
In their last Sunday’s bulletins, all 84 churches of Otsego County were to have carried announcements of an important meeting; most of them did. But because the announcement is so important, and not just to the churched, here it is again.
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Living the magic of ‘Hoosier’
A lot of people consider “Hoosiers” the best sports film of all time. The 1986 classic follows the exploits of a fictional small town Indiana high school basketball team in 1952 as it attempts to achieve the impossible dream of a state championship. The story is inspired by the true life achievement of the 1954 Milan team, who with an enrollment of only 161 students shocked big city power Muncie Central on a last second shot to win the state title. It’s the kind of sports story that represents something that is hard to grasp unless you live in a small town.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: The most perfect village... home to heavy industry?
We suspect we would get a whole lot more accomplished if we spent less time thinking, pondering and musing about things. In fact, there is a good possibility we might actually have completed our goal of cleaning the basement if we only focused on the task at hand, instead of trying to figure out the world around us. It almost makes us wonder if it is possible to think too much about things. We certainly hope not because should that be the case, we are in deep trouble.
Continued ... -
Up On Hawthorn Hill: The past in the present
Clichés abound about the value of photographs. Most are probably true at least to a certain extent. What I do know about an image is that it represents something of the past that is not the pastitself. But that is the power of any image. It represents something that once was. The beauty of an image, revisited, is that it functions as a catalystfor reliving in the present a past experience. My own view, one that I thank the Spanish writer Jorge Luis Borges for, is that all we ever can experience is the present.
Continued ... -
Home Notes: Workshops held for Thanksgiving Home residents
We welcomed Linda Keller, Ph.D. of the Bassett Research Institute and Ida Baker of NYCAMH who presented a six-week workshop for residents and staff.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Late-winter hamlet news
Well, at least I’m “guessing” it’s late winter now — in the winter that wasn’t. But, if not snow, I can provide a flurry of Fly Creek news to share with you, scooping Associated Press, Reuter’s, and United Press International, not to mention all local news services except our General Store.
Continued ...
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In These Otsego Hills: Continuing on from 1986 ...
