Columns
Jim Atwell: Still another award
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
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From Fly Creek: Passing fronts and settled weather
(I owe the first part of this column to an informal writers’ workshop sponsored by the Smithy Pioneer Gallery. The small group, led by Gallery Director Danielle Newell, meets Sunday afternoons and is open to anyone interested in the writing craft. As a warmup exercise on that very rainy afternoon, we each wrote a few paragraphs on the weather and emotions. Here’s what that keen group prompted me to scribble down) The dour old Scotsman, the one featured in jokes without number about buying lottery tickets, pinching pennies, scorning worldly ways, etc., once silenced a friend who was praising the beautiful weather.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: We're back from Michigan ...
Unfortunately, we once again find ourselves stuck in a time warp. When we look at the calendar, we realize that Labor Day is fast approaching. Yet, we seem to be operating under the misconception that it is still early July due in large part to the fact that we spent the almost five weeks from July 15 to August 17 in Grand Rapids, Michigan. We feel the summer has sailed by and we, unfortunately, have not kept pace.
Continued ... -
Otsego Herald: Censorship?
All those indebted to John Lawrence, Post-rider, and do not settle the same IMMEDIATELY may rely upon having to pay cost!! Otego, Aug. 24.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: 1984 comes to a close ... finally
As we continue traipsing through 1984, we realize that even though we were supposed to be covering the comings and goings of Cooperstown, we actually were able, even then, to touch on a number of pressing community, as well as personal, issues. Of course, much to the relief of the powers that were at CCS, the school was not among them. The he-we ran for the school board in 1984 and was elected. Thus the school was deemed off limits by the powers that were at the paper. But we discovered there was still a wide range of issues upon which we could write.
Continued ... -
Otsego Herald: New school book
From the Otsego Herald for Saturday, Aug. 18, 1810
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Books offer tennis insights
Professional tennis sometimes seems to be the ultimate life. Where else could you travel the world, earn gobs of money, get in great shape, and have groupies from the opposite sex chasing you all the time? And you get all your equipment free to boot (which may explain why players smash racquets without remorse). Quite a glamorous life, isn’t it?
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: Continuing our 1984 musings
Now that we have undertaken the beginnings of this column, we fear we find ourselves unable to stop our review of the early writings. In fact, we seem to be completely addicted to the project. And thus, we will continue to explore the very foundations on which this column has been built.
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Burnett's book recalls 'Golden Age'
It’s a shame that today’s young generation missed the golden age of television from the 1960s and 70s. The fact that Hollywood studios with their ``original’’ ideas of constantly remaking hit TV shows from that era into new movies and reunion specials is quite telling. Even Fox with its ``That 70’s Show’’ is a reminder of that whimsical time.
Continued ... -
Home Notes: A place to cherish
As we enter into the middle of summer, let us pause and relish in the fact that we have been blessed with such lovely weather.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: Hurray for Mother Bassett!
Just back from my annual week at Lake George’s Silver Bay, in company with about 600 other Quakers. As always, it was a great time: Friends shared silence in the early morning by the lake and during the day in the big brown-shingled tabernacle. (Silver Bay is an old YMCA camp.)
Continued ...
Plenty of fine stringed music and singing in the evenings; lots of daytime rocking-chair stints on the deep veranda, facing across rolling lawns and lake to green mountains and skies of startling blue. -
In These Otsego Hills: In the beginning
Our remembering Jerry in last week’s column has now lead us to muse about our early days of writing a weekly newspaper column.
Continued ... -
Book Notes: Prohibition should not be ignored
I was an American history major in college and one topic that my professors never discussed was prohibition.
Continued ... -
Otsego Herald: Elopement
From the Otsego Herald for Saturday, July 21, 1810 Compiled, with comments BY HUGH C. MACDOUGALL
Continued ... -
Home Notes: Personal Care is a rewarding occupation
When I was a young girl in the early 50’s my family would often take rides through Cooperstown and the Cherry Valley area.
Continued ... -
In These Otsego Hills: Remembering Jerry ...
Difficult as it is to believe, we have been a widow for eleven years this week. And yet it seems as if our late husband Jerry just died yesterday. The memory of it remains most vivid in our mind. We suppose there is much that we don’t remember about July 20, 1999. But we do remember just how much that day changed our life forever. We lost not only our spouse of 28 years, but also our best friend.
Continued ... -
Otsego Herald: Celebrating the 4th
From the Otsego Herald for Saturday, July 14, 1810 Compiled, with comments by
Continued ... -
Our Opinion: What’s good for the goose...
The board of trustees has decided to hire an engineer to review the work of CLA Site, the firm hired to do the site assessment and design work for the Village Gateway Project _ now known as the Cooperstown Intermodal Transit Project. That review will cost up to $12,000.
Continued ... -
From Fly Creek: ‘Thump-thump, dum-lum’
Since I last wrote to you I’ve been several times embraced to Mother Bassett’s bosom.
Continued ...
(Oh dear, I hope that’s not a disrespectful metaphor. But if you’ve seen photos, you know she was a handsome, dignified woman with an ample superstructure.) This time, for variety, the hospital visits at first seemed to have little to do with Parkinsonism. But a new problem had turned up that had me tested in every part of the hospital except obstetrics. -
In These Otsego Hills: Travels with The Widge...
We have decided that the role of grandmother is quite to our liking. As we have been told any number of times, as a grandparent it is perfectly acceptable to hold, play with and fawn over the grandchild until such time as said grandchild becomes fussy. And then, and this is the best part, it is completely within the purview of the grandparent to return the fussy grandchild to the parents. We love it.
Continued ... -
Otsego Herald: Shocking accident, American arrested
On Wednesday last, as Joseph Faulkner, esq. of Middlefield, was returning home from Cherry-Valley, a gust of wind arose up suddenly, a large Elm was blown across the road, directly on Mr. Faulkner, who, together with his horse was instantly killed.
Continued ...
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From Fly Creek: Passing fronts and settled weather
