Observations of a Country Squire - by George Zidbeck
2011 and 2010 Columns
December, 2011 A Friend
Such a mystifying word, friend. Standing alone what does it mean? Does the context alter that meaning? Many people have heard the saying, "A dog is man's best friend." But is man dog's best friend? One professional football quarterback might think otherwise.
November, 2011 Brief Reflections on Black Walnuts
If you were given an exam on how much you know about black walnuts, how well do you think you'd fare? Probably, much like me, you'd first have to check the internet. I already knew that squirrels eat them. I've observed crows drop them on a roadway, and then patiently perch on a nearby branch to wait until a passing vehicle breaks the shells. Not much else. So I hied my tired old bod to le 'puter for to check the internet for some background facts.
October, 2011 Lakota Lady
Now and then I punch out the first words of a literary sortie by introducing miscellaneous editorial tangents. After all, our life stories seldom fall into symmetrical dimensions. At times I feel the need to choreograph not just time and place, but also beg you to consider my biased perspectives. Well, I'm going to push those considerations aside and get right to the story that took place during my recent return home from Reno, Nevada.
September, 2011 How I Came to Be a Squire
In that I regularly sign many of my communiqués with the appellation of Sq. Z., many readers over many years have questioned my title. Herewith follows my explanation:
August, 2011 The Story of Caruso the Rooster
Who hasn't, as a child, belted out the words to Old McDonald Had a Farm? From such
verses, and from a wide selection of pre-
July, 2011 A Big Bang
Do not be misled by the title. I am not an astrophysicist about to lecture you on the derivations and consequences of E=MC2. I simply want to introduce you to a most disconcerting event arising from a homegrown calamity. No, not the mundane matter of a painful hemorrhoid or a stubbed toe eliciting cries of anguish. And certainly nothing related to earthquake temblors. My calamity—fully local and personal—primarily grew from my own lack of concentration.
June, 2011 PANAMEÑA, PANAMEÑA, PANAMEÑA MIA VIDA
When I left Panama back in 1944 with my mother and three younger siblings, I had no song in my heart, nor was Panama my life. For thirteen years, the American Canal Zone held my attention, and soon I'd be in California to start a new life. I suspected that I'd not return to my hometown neighborhood in Balboa or ever see my young friends again. That suspicion proved true through my adolescence and early adulthood.
May, 2011 Sunshine & Moonshine
No, no, no! The title does not lead into an article discussing weather or presenting
a how-
April, 2011 Life and Longevity, An Essay
No, I'm not misleading you. Not in any underhanded sense. What I said on my 3rd take last month, regarding Aging on the Squiredom, tied me to a promise to not saddle you with any further comments on my biological clock for the balance of 2011. My current offering relates to some generalized reflections regarding the cultural value a society places on those who served in the military and how such service impacts our perspective on living and dying.
March, 2011 The Big 80 -
Lest you suspect that I am going to continue monthly with comments on this olde squire and his aging shtick, I promise to change the subject for the balance of this year. That statement consequently leaves the door open should I wish to say something next January about turning 81.
February, 2011 Aging on the Squiredom #2
I hit the doldrums. The deadline for presenting a paper (of no more than five pages) for my monthly writers' group meeting fast approached. "No problem," I told myself this past November. Two years ago hadn't I written "It's easy" to a member of the group who had requested each participant of the congregation submit a response on how to jumpstart a poem or story.
January, 2011 Yellowjackets
When outdoors, picnicking or camping, did you ever lift a can of soda or sandwich ready to drink or bite and luckily spot a bee or yellow jacket poised right on the edge of the container? Or just happen to stray near a nesting site and hear a distinctive buzz? If not, count your blessings. I, on the other hand, know hosts of stinging insects up close and personal. However, one stands out in my mind more than the others: yellow jackets.
December, 2010 Feathered Impudence
I've walked many fields in many countries o'er hills and dales, mountains and prairies, at different times for different reasons. Regularly crows, jays, magpies, and their ilk heralded my presence to the countryside. Singly, or en masse, they screeched and cawed as if Mother Nature specifically anointed them town criers. Until recently, compared to all the other feathered species, they rated poorly in my mind. Moreover, given their rapacious reputation for nest robbing, I took a special dislike for the blue jay species labeled, Cyanocitta stelleri—Steller's Jay.
November, 2010 Bits & Pieces
In my early teens, lying on my belly on a lawn, I spotted a twitching blade of grass. Leaning in for closer inspection, I parted some leaves. Lo, a veritable insect parade offered itself. Sow/pill bugs moved as tanks in review, accompanied by hosts of insects with different carapaces and nomenclatures. That insightful moment alerted me to the entertaining choreography delivered from species that seldom hold our attention.
October, 2010 Taking in a Stray Dog
What person or family hasn't accepted the responsibility of caring for a pet, whether
a lizard; parakeet; cat; dog; or goldfish? But, taking care of ain't the same as
caring about. Selectively, some animals induce a transitional relationship bordering
on friendship. The pet gets a name that it recognizes and its persona over time finds
itself molded by full acceptance. The ages of the caretaker(s) and the adopted animal(s)
significantly controls the kind and degree of subsequent bonding that develops inter-
September, 2010 The Crippled Mama Doe
Fatal wildlife casualties regularly present their carcasses along our north county roadways. We may not inure ourselves to the slaughter of gophers, squirrels, miscellaneous birds, raccoons, skunks, possums, coyotes, and deer, but we seldom decelerate our steel chariots from our appointed rounds. Moreover, road departments generally clear the remains in short order. Hardly ever do we view any singular corpse for more than a day. Sometimes though, for those of us who live off the main thoroughfares, we observe many animals who, albeit seriously crippled, survive an auto collision.
August 2010 The Doe That Hated Dogs
Throughout the 1980s, it'd be a rare week when native ground dwellers absented themselves
from our San Luis Obispo County acreage. One morning, I spotted thirty-
July, 2010 A Traumatized Yearling Deer
Weather seldom deters me from my appointed morning rounds amidst the squiredom. Thus, with Cup o' Joe in hand about four years ago, I headed down the blacktop from La Casita. Just before crossing the bottom swale, I spotted a young doe twenty yards distant. Although without spots, it had not yet matured into its full weight and height. In that the young animal seemed comfortably bedded down under a wooden bridge, I thought nothing of the matter.
June, 2010 The Coyote and the Fawn
Thus, while I had but a few seconds before the predatory hunting scene left my sighting, I shouted in my most threatening tone, "Get out!" Whaddayouknow? It worked. The coyote stopped his pursuit to check out the source of my growl. When I had his attention, I repeated my command. The phrase resulted in his reversing his direction.
Huzzah, my intervention extended the fawn's lifespan.
May, 2010 Aging on the Squiredom
Sweet sixteen. Such a charming phrase until reality intrudes, particularly in evaluating
mid-
April, 2010 The Boy Up the Hill and the Wild Turkeys
Nearly two decades ago, the early spring gathering of wild turkeys in my neighborhood
turned commonplace and seldom commanded more than a momentary glance unless they
exhibited signs of alarm. Such a happenstance occurred early one morning while I
raked the SW portion of my parcel. I first heard the rustling of a flock of a dozen
turkeys running down-
March, 2010 Two Rutted Bucks and a Garden Hose
Back in the 20th Century, circa April 1978, my wife, Judy, and I purchased three
Central Coast acres while we still lived and worked in L.A. County. For seven subsequent
years, we periodically tooled north from Whittier and sprayed the fecund poison oak
fence line to fence line. In December of 1985, we finally moved into our newly constructed,
functionally comfortable, wood framed retirement cottage. From the dining room window,
we casually overlooked the northeastern portion of our land -
February, 2010 The Squirrel & the Hawk
I squire three acres in San Luis Obispo County. Husbanding the land also offers overseeing wildlife biodiversity. Sensual feasts abound. Although numerous birds and miscellaneous insects migrate seasonally, many creatures inhabit the local countryside throughout the year. One perennial species, the gray tree squirrel, constantly crisscrosses the acreage, accepting my rear deck as simply another branch to traverse from tree to tree. High strung, mischievously clever in their maneuverings, they offer delightful interludes.
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