Stings and Signs of the Times

October 1, 2010

Foraging in the ‘garden’, Izzy-the-Wise and I are noticing lots of new items.

Even Izzy would not mistake the items for bugs, but I see the resemblance in some of the new items. Signs about folks with waspish stingers popping up in yards! I think about the stinging signs, Izzy thinks about, well, stinging insects!

Insects ‘demonstrate’ with Signs and Stings and we know some are benevolent and others are very harmful. We are happy, most of us, when we see a Monarch butterfly visiting. We flinch when we see a wasp approaching, we would rather they carry on their business out of our sphere. We are seeing yard signs that promote stingers. Who put those there? We are putting up signs, too. Our signs promote wisdom and good works like that of butterflies that pollinate and protect plants, feed wildlife.

Izzy and I value the balance of nature. We wouldn’t want to get rid of all wasps. They have a niche in our environment. Nevertheless, there are human versions of the wasp we could do well to avoid. We surely don’t want them to run our governments!

A human version of a Monarch might be a farmer, a botanist, a backyard gardener, a child planting her first bean in a paper cup, and folks who are concerned for us all.

Talking human wasps are spreading a venom that pollutes our airwaves, newspapers, and TV’s with distortions of fact, untruths, promotions of fear and war. They are a plague of locusts who will consume what is left of this great nation with their greed, teaching hate, and disregard for the well-being of the general population. They put on a charade of decency that the unaware absorb and accept because times are difficult, frightening and confusing. Being as angry as a stirred up wasp gives short term relief. The Big wasps know this and stir up the nest. No good will come of this. Human wasps are advertising their representatives’ candidacies paid by other more powerful wasp groups who don’t even live in the state. Their stingers are long and swift. Now, Big Money sends the stings to places they never have been able to go before! Watch out for their signs, knee-jerk slogans, and vicious stingers! Baking soda will not heal the wounds they inflict.

We must vote in just a few weeks. Will we choose the wasps who sting from afar and within? Instead, let’s choose the healthier more responsible individuals like Trish O’Neil, Tammy Baldwin,Tom Barrett, and Russ Feingold? They will promote stability, better schools, better health for all, better possibilities for jobs for you and I. They will not protect big businesses by permitting them to create fake addresses in Nevada so they can avoid paying their fair share of taxes in Wisconsin as is happening now. They will consider all their constituents even-handedly, thinking of the little guy as well as the big, and do what is best for us all? They will listen and work with their counterparts instead of fight and block progress. They are human versions of good nature.

Izzy and I look for the way to protect the little guy, but even the big guys if they have good practices. Join Izzy and I and choose the candidates mentioned by name.

zzy and I voted according to our Edges and Boundaries, How about You?

Edges and Boundaries of us all

Edges and Boundaries

This past week we set some political edges and boundaries.

Our political space 'in the world' is defined by so many factors. We even need to define, before we start to consider anything else, what do we mean by 'in the world'. For some of us, it is quite simple to define 'in the world'. As a child, when my mother exclaimed, "What in the world is happening?, or What in the world are you doing, or were you thinking?", I would answer about what I had just done, hadn't done, or made myself ready to respond about a recent event. Was this 'household politics'? I think so.

The older I got, the wider the 'world' 'grew'. Now it included the stars, the whole planet, and all the living organisms seen and unseen existing along with me. So our horizons expand with our awareness of what is 'out there'. All of 'that' becomes, in some sort of way, 'the world'. In many ways there is a sort of politic going on even in the farthest reaches. At home, when mulling over my mother's exclamation, I came to understand that her reference also included a 'world of ideas, actions'. A sort of behavioral 'world' which I had a long way ahead of me to comprehend and appreciate fully. When I stepped beyond her 'take' on 'the world', I learned, I could experience some sort of chastisement or 'consequence' that would encourage me to repeat an action or an utterance or not. After a while, my 'local world' became a comfort zone in which I knew my edges and boundaries and lived in a wide margin of peacefulness. The outer political edges were still waiting for me to discover.

Surprisingly, while the edges and boundaries of ' local world' became more and more clearly defined, 'What in the world' expanded like a mushroom since learning I could sneeze here, and someone in California might catch my cold. If 'my politician' decided it was in 'my interest' to make a war, he set off explosives that shattered families several thousand miles away in a matter of a few seconds. That was why it was a good thing I got an early solid 'basic training' within my 'first local world'. It helped me be able to assess how to respond to the kaleidoscope of options on the road ahead.

Making common sense choices is so much easier for 'teenage pullet' Izzy-the-Wise, my little bantie: in 'her 'world' she has a range of yard, run, and coop. She is established in the flock pecking order and she reminds her 'flocksisters' she has status and ambition beyond her size limit, but not too far beyond it. She can look me in the eye unblinkingly and exude confidence I envy. She avoids danger, she chooses when to follow the flock and when to chill out on her own. Her menu is of her choosing since i give her options. While events happening in other yards, other 'hoods', and 'universes' may have some repercussions for her, she is not aware of those events or repercussions, except she watches out for hawks and scary creatures. Often, I long for that simplicity of mind and awareness. Izzy and her sisters 'vote' , though. They size each other up and pick a leader and a sister who is stuck in 'last place'. They have also voted about me, they will come running when they know I'm around. Good politics on their part. Can I do the same?

The manner in which we humans develop our political edges and boundaries seems simple enough, but peeling back the layers of our 'political world',just one of the sorts of 'worlds' we operate in, we discover great complexities. When we 'vote' we affect the fate of a much larger 'flock'. We even affect the 'whole world' dramatically if we choose not to vote (as we let others choose for us, we choose to let go of our citizenship and permit others to make whatever choices they wish even if they are terrible choices).

Discovering the power of the vote stunned me one day. It happened when I realized that by choosing a candidate I also chose someone who had the power to change the fate of large numbers of people, creatures, organisms. My 'world'! Our world. What immense power! Lucky little Izzy doesn't have to worry about that, but I do, we all do! So even when I don't feel like it, I always try to figure out who will be the wisest and best amongst the 'flock' of candidates and make the choices responsibility calls me to make. I hope you join me and take part in this process. It is a labor of love we owe each other. So happy we can do this as our contribution to our 'community', our 'world', Izzy's world!

Hopefully, you voted in the Wisconsin primary yesterday. I promise you I did. Now we are in the last stretch of this mid-term election cycle. Let's all take time to respect ourselves, our 'jobs as citizens' with all our similarities and differences, dialog about issues and candidates in a healthy interchange, Ignore the ugly lie-slinging, and calmly consider what is best for our state, 'our world'. Long-range and in the moment. Remember to make kind and decent choices. Apply the 'Golden Rule' standard. That will make us stronger and healthier. If you choose to vote, I thank you and so does Izzy-the-Wise.

Vocabulary, Ours and for the Birds: some special Edges and Boundaries!

There seems to be at least 350 words one needs to know to for sure to achieve a high vocabulary score on the SAT I.(Stanford Achievement Test for college entrance).

Attracted to words, the magnetism of the title ‘Hot Words’ for SAT I: The 350 Words You Need to Know, made me grab it from the DeForest Library shelf. It made me so curious--what are these magical words!? How does this fit into the Blog theme: Edges and Boundaries? What has this to do with my backyard flock of hens? Other learners I care about? You are invited to make this discovery with me.

My hens, living symbols of fertility, will soon be egg-producers but there are conditions that must be met. As fall approaches with cooling winds and shortening days, a hen’s ‘egg-laying boundary’ fluctuates, depending on the duration of daylight. I can boost that boundary, modifying the ‘vocabulary of light’-- which is truly a ‘message’ to Izzy. She and her sisters will lay more eggs through fall and winter if they get their required 14 hours of light. Their inner ‘egg-timers’ will stay ‘switched on’. Just set up a light in the coop. Maybe I have done this in time.

The ‘girls’ are already teaching me some of their spoken language; their murmurs, startled squawks, their calls for attention, asking for a treat or to be released to the backyard. Rushing to me when I appear on the lawn. A ‘language of hen nature’ expressing itself with Edges and Boundaries. Izzy-the-Wise has a different tone range than the Rhode Island Reds or the Cuckoo Marans, but she gets her point across.

When thinking about birds and language I can’t help but include the following:

A few years ago, the book: The Mind of the Raven, by Berndt Heinrich, was a best seller. Irresistible! It is filled with revelations about ‘raven culture’, the ‘fertility of raven ‘wisdom’, personalities, senses of humor, playfulness, mechanical skills, learning speed, problem solving abilities, and LANGUAGE! Dr. Heinrich wrote a stunning description of discoveries made by a team of German ‘ravenologists’ who amassed 60,000 recordings of distinct utterances by ravens they studied. As with humans, ravens use certain basic vocalizations often enough so the ornithologists compiled a ‘dictionary’ of frequent raven-speech. Listening in’ on raven conversations they even confirmed/connected many actions with utterances. Ravens use 5,000 tones and series of ‘speech’ combos fairly often, with the most common utterances numbering 538, falling into 33 categories! (as in warnings, greetings, amorous, complaining, comments, food cues, nesting, juvenile mewing, announcements, reassurances, anger, threatening, fear, ‘celebratory’, friendly calling to one another, checking in,and more!) Given a bit of patience, the untrained listener can distinguish about 20 to 65 different ‘ravenish words’. Now that is impressive vocabulary! Ravens also mimic the human voice, dog barks, other birds, and a range of other sounds, like doors slamming! Add in expressive ‘body language’ of the raven, all the information together places ravens very high on the communicator scale amongst all birds. Want to be in awe of both researcher and the researched? Read Mind of the Raven! Berndt Heinrich takes the reader on an unforgettable journey into nature you will be glad you made. (In fact, read all his books!) Very inspiring!

Our youth have had a down-turn in their vocabulary usage that should concern us.

Utne Reader (July-August 2000, 'Like Whatever,' pages 28-9.)

tells us that the typical American teenager of the 50?s had a vocabulary of 25,000 words; the teenager of today 10,000." What has happened to that potential communication ‘boundary’. Shouldn’t it be growing, instead?

Most humans are lucky to have an average working vocabulary of between 5,000 to 30,000 words, depending on age, exposure and many other factors. If we wish to enter a competitive work force, how do we dare to slip backwards? Nevertheless, making sure one knows 350 “magic hot words’ and their usages in prep for the SAT test, beefs up our word-kit for certain, and should be a piece of cake for a student of mine, right? She will, however, feel she is pushing her edges and boundaries verbally! She may even squawk a little! I say, more power to her! Together we are going to feed her ‘kind-wolf of vocabulary’! We’ll be extending the Edges and Boundaries of human potential! One raven, I mean kid, at a time! Somehow, I think Izzy-the-Wise, my bantie, will not be attending these sessions. That’s ok!

Does Izzy have wolves in her heart? Do we?

A week of anxious events haunts me. The Mosque, the wars, and a man who pretends, in front of Mr. Lincoln,he has all the answers to healing the world and our nation. Where would Izzy find wisdom and peace in this mess? Wisdom of nature can soothe.

Let’s think like an animal, like a chicken, or a wolf. Let’s go back to ancient wisdom with this timeless story: A Cherokee grandfather napped, reflecting on the sight of two fighting wolves he’d seen in the forest earlier that day, when one of his grandchildren came to remind him it was time for the evening teaching about life. Opening his eyes, the old man heard his youngest grandson and smiled. He knew the exact story he would tell. The memory of today’s wolves guided him.

The fire’s glow framed his strong face, the youngsters gathered around, waiting. Slowly, quietly, eyes half-closed, then looking around at each expectant face, he began, "Tonight I tell you of a fight going on inside me”..He opened wide his eyes now,.”It is a terrible fight, and a long one.” Hand on his heart now: “it is always between the pair of wolves who live in my heart! Yes, in my heart! I see them, feel them,hear them!”

One wolf is fearful, angry, envious, sad, regretful, greedy, he shows arrogance, self-pity, resentment, he lies, makes up scary stories, he wants power, wants others to be scared of him, but listen. He always growls. G-r-rr.

The other wolf is filled with joy, peace, love, hope, sharing, humility, kindness, friendship, generosity, truth, compassion. When he opens his mouth, he smiles with his sharp teeth. His eyes speak friendship. Wags his tail, wants to be petted.

Here is the secret: This same fight is going on inside of you and every other person too! This secret will guide you from the inside. "

“Inside us?” they questioned, but how do you know?

“Ah, my children, I can see ‘your wolves’ with my old eyes, I see them every day when I see what you do and hear what you say to each other.”

After a long time of silence, thinking about ways of the woods, one child asked “Grandfather, which wolf will win?”

The old Cherokee smiled gently, and simply replied..."The wolf I feed."

I will feed Izzy and her sisters now, speaking and cooing to them softly. Let’s all feed the kind wolf and be glad we can choose to do so.

Hen-Parties: Time Well Spent with Izzy-the-Wise

Chickens have a lot of rules that resemble my household rules. They don’t like to be

startled, they like to hear kind words, they stick together in a crisis, they help one another with ‘projects’(hunting for bugs), they carry on friendly conversations. They post a ‘look-out’ hen at each side of the flock to ward off danger (we lock doors), They squawk when warning of trouble, we call 911, and they agree to snuggle in at bedtime with no fuss. Who doesn’t enjoy a downy blanket when sleepy?

Hen parties are part of our get-acquainted schedule, too. My girls like to sit on the lowest segment of my deck and ‘chill’. (see photo) A steady gentle murmur is kept up with everyone taking a turn. (we ladies in our neighborhood meet once a month at breakfast to ‘chill out together’ and stay in touch) My hens do this every day, imagine how close they are!

It was lovely in the shade today, so I attended their hen-party: on a step close-by, but not bearing treats. After they made sure no goodies were offered, they preened, murmured, and settled down near me at peace. I looked them in the eye and shared my latest news, told them how lovely they looked and commented on their good skills. We were very much at ease.

Later there was a break-through with four hens. One was Izzy! When I was cleaning their waterer, showed them I didn’t have anything in my hands, leaned over and tried to pet Ophelia, the largest Cuckoo Maran hen. Instead of skittering away, she hunkered down and let me pet her! I tried the same with Sandy, a Rhode Island Red. She allowed me to pet her, too. Unbelievable! Izzy was next! Maybe they learn from observing their sisters? It is not a ‘fait accompli’ yet, I’m still hoping my ‘girls’ will sometime soon let me pick them up and hold them quietly while petting them. This requires a great deal more trust, of course! Then they need to learn to trust others.

All I can think of is they know I will help them be safe and my voice soothes them. We are building a ‘family atmosphere’. Taking some time to see eye to eye with chickens is awesome: they really do look you in the eye, and it is doing no harm.

We fed the kind wolf today, my hens and I. Be well. Feed the kind wolf in your heart.

PHOTO ORIENTATION: IZZY IS CENTER FRONT, THE SPECKLED, LITTLE ONE.

Izzy-the-Wise --Does she Want to be ‘Tamed”?

or: “Edges and Boundaries” between humans other creatures, first stages.

We want to ‘tame’ our pets. Or we assume our pets are already ‘tame’, don’t we? How, otherwise, did they earn the status of ‘domesticated animals’?

Then we are shocked when they do something ANIMALS do! Shocked we are when our ‘tame domesticated’ pet has snapped, stricken, nipped, rejected or threatened us! Hurt our egos! Where did things go wrong? (don’t misunderstand, Izzy hasn’t done this, I’m just thinking of other pet-taming tales gone off the track)

Always interested in the relationships of humans and domesticated animals, I ponder in the ‘Chicken Parlor Patio’ about taming little bantie, Izzy-the-Wise. What does she think of ME? What should I know about ME from her ‘point of view’? How can a hopefully sane and balanced human bother to ponder such things and admit deep thoughts about ‘taming chickens’? Confessing, I do.

Lots of hearts have already attached themselves to Izzy-the-Wise. She has done very little to ‘earn’ this attachment or affection other than ‘be herself’. She SEEMS cuddly, but is she? No signs of it yet, except nibbling corn from my hand. No matter what, she wins the vote of ‘which pullet do the kids want to pet most?’ When we reach out to her she is quick to dodge and flap her escape. So, Izzy, dear Izzy-the-Wise, we hope we can tame you. What to do?

New at chicken-attachment, I see that chickens are not rushing to attach themselves to me other than to hope I arrive with corn-scratch treats, or some other veggie delicacy. I tested this yesterday, mixing in a high percentage of black oil sunflower seeds with the handful of ‘scratch’ and was snubbed and stared at with baleful looks of contempt and then crushing indifference. Sweet-talking didn’t work, either. The rest of the yard, grass, bugs, worms, fluttering insects, held their attention like a turbo-magnet. Dissed!

The message was clear: unless I filled their high-level -corn-scratch expectations, I was worth, well, -less than chicken-scratch! There was no sign of ‘being loved ‘for myself’. We learned chickens are very practical and focused on ‘chicken-business’. They are not being mean-spirited, they just have other ‘stuff to do’. They will take additional art to ‘tame’. Even Izzy-the-Wise! Friendship has to be ‘earned’ with Izzy-the-Wise. A life lesson? Izzy will not be rushed. Her heart is not obligated to notice the warm place I hold for her in mine. She feels even less acquainted when my grandkids try to reach out to her. Grandma, we want to pet her! So do I.

Pondering in the Chicken Parlor Patio, I conclude: We are on an adventure of making friends, Izzy-the-Wise,(other humans and other chickens have done this somehow!) and Izzy, thank you for the lessons, in advance, you will teach me!

Post script: Comments on, or stories of Chicken-taming: Welcome! How-to’s, and pointers welcome, also!

Parable of Izzy the Wise--- an on-going saga of Edges and Boundaries

Ahhh, DeForest! The glow of delight at living in DeForest, WI expanded in early June, 2010. What brought on this delight? Discovery a small flock of pullets was permissible in my hometown! This opportunity opened many doors. A ‘world’ was widened for my city family, and, indeed for some sweet pullets. We could grow as a family, increasing both amusement, animal science and health at the same time! We could even learn a great deal from one another by inviting our chickens into our backyard lives. Now, could the chickens teach us anything? We didn’t suspect how much!

First, smiles of friends and neighbors, now grins and giggles from grandkids keep coming! Reminiscences of the “I used to have chickens...” type, or “oh, how I remember the delicious eggs from our hens...” came from visitors to the ‘Chicken Parlor’, so I ‘installed chairs and a table’ in the ‘patio of the parlor’. What fun chicken ‘personality’ stories my friends regaled on me! Rich and causing belly laughs, these stories connected us in new ways that only the chickens could have brought to us!

My pullets, mostly large, serious egg-layers, are a varied lot. Chosen for winter hardiness and great egg-laying potential, they represent fruitfulness. Beauty, diversity of color, and amiability were also considered when I combed through the poultry ads, dark brown eggs the firmest rule. So the big day came: we were ready for chicken -arrival!

An expedition to a poultry man in Dousman introduced me to my ‘bird-family’. Waiting were a few well-feathered pullets. The poultry-man offered to show me the ‘parents’ and his other chickens. I could pick others if I wished. That was when the real adventure started!

Like opening a treasure chest, he showed me through a barn door to a palace of plumage and clucks. The ‘tour’ included breeds I’d seen in catalogs and fairs, but never on this basis: some of these were coming home with me! Ooohing and ahhhing, I wanted one of each. Reality struck: I could only pick one or two more. Many were ‘young boys’,cockerels, or parents of future champions. Some enclosures held gangly pullets of varying ages and then, in the final one, a real mix of Cuckoo Marans and banties. Banties with flashy plumage, but of no interest to me. Too small.

“I’ll have to be culling most of these,” Ken, the poultry man commented, sadly

pointing to a multicolored elegant bantie with fluffy feet: “Even her.” “Oh No!”, I gasped, ‘why her? She is so adorable!” “Eggs too tiny and she’s a mix so not showable.” That is when Izzy earned her new home. “I’ll take her,” I cried. “She’s Yours then, free!” Flooded with relief and joy, I cradled Izzy like a new mother, and added her to my tiny take-home flock.

So, Izzy-the-Wise began a new chapter in both of our lives. Izzy, named by Oliver, my almost four-year-old grandson, is a thinker and a poultry-safety-analyst. She lets her larger sisters ‘test the field’ before she launches herself with a flutter of wings, fluffy foot hops, and a flowing commentary on her trajectory. An unwanted bantie can=happiness.