The Liebster Award is an award that exists only on the internet and is given to bloggers by other bloggers. The earliest case of the award goes as far back as 2011. Liebster in German means sweetest, kindest, nicest, dearest, beloved, lovely, kind, pleasant, valued, cute, endearing, and welcome.
The award is a way to be discovered but also to connect and support the blogging community. A great idea in promoting your own blog and others. Originally it was given out to blogs with less than 2000 readers but this has slowly lowed as the reward has gained popularity. It is now only 200 readers or less. It’s really an arbitrary number. If you like helping other blogs out go ahead and do it regardless of its size.
With thanks to Rebecca Wallick at wildsensibility for the nomination….. ( I’m not sure sweetest and endearing are the first words people think of when my blog comes to mind, but hey. I’ll take praise where and when I can. )
If you love dogs, natural splendor and stunning scenic photographs, check out Rebecca’s page. She’s got them all in spades.
Onward!
You know the rules… I have to answer questions. Which I shall do with the utmost amount of seriousness.
1. What typically is the closest object on your right when you’re writing (not including a computer mouse)?
You’ll probably be sorry you asked that… but it’s a poop drone.
And yes, of course it flies.
2. What one-sentence bit of advice would you give to your 13-year-old self?
At 13… I was a shy little thing. Reticent to open my mouth or make my presence known. (Hard to believe, I know) So I would probably tell her…. Dance! Jump off that pier! Sing with the band! Say yes to all the adventures life lays before you and don’t worry so much about what other people think. By the time you’re sitting here blogging about it? It will be too late.
3. Describe your ideal writing space and place (assuming money isn’t an issue).
For me… that would be a treehouse.
A glam treehouse, with a frozen margarita machine and a never ending supply of tequila and limes. Surrounded by nature and the songs of birds, that’s where I’d like to be.
4. What is your most frequent photographic subject?
That changes depending on the season.. and my moods. Lately?
It’s a woodchuck who looks like Jabba the Hut.
5. Favorite quote?
“I’d rather have a bottle in front of me than a frontal lobotomy.”
With…. “I like to have a martini, Two at the very most. After three I’m under the table, after four I’m under my host.” coming in a close second.
Ole Dorothy Parker knew her stuff.
6. What does blogging (writing, and reading) add to your life?
A sense of connection. It’s like reaching my hand out across the globe and touching people I would never have otherwise met. (And by touching, I’m speaking metaphorically. Don’t call the vice squad.)
7. If you could choose to be any animal for a 24-hour period, which would you be and why?
A wombat.
And I have no idea why.
8. Do you have other creative outlets besides writing?
I used to draw. I used to write poetry. I used to make dried flower wreaths. I used to cross stitch. I used to stamp. I used to paint. I used to dry brush ceramics. I used to do a lot of things. Now… I just take crazy pictures and blog.
And drink.
I drink very creatively.
Amen, Tyrion. Amen.
Okay, now I’m supposed to nominate blogs I think you should discover and make them answer questions as well.
Of course, if you know me… you know my questions won’t be normal. Where’s the fun in that?
1. Acknowledge the blog which nominated you.
2. Answer the questions your nominator asked.
3. Nominate two to six other bloggers who might appreciate the boost.
4. Ask them several unique questions.
5. Let them know you have nominated them.
And answer these questions –
1. You’re a pigeon newly arrived in Hollywood. Who do you poop on first?
2. Donald Trump has been impeached. Mike Pence has been trampled to death at a gay pride parade. Nancy Pelosi has resigned her position and run off to Tahiti with a member of BTS. You’ve been chosen to be the next President of the United States. What’s your first executive order?
3. The Brussels Sprout is a much maligned ( and extremely gassy ) cruciferous vegetable. You run a PR firm and have just been hired to tweak it’s image. Go!
4. Your lifelong dream of being a stripper has come true. What’s your stage name?
5. Your cruise ship is sinking and you’ve scrambled onto a life raft only to realize it’s overloaded. What… or who… do you push overboard? A case of craft beer, your significant other, the oars, a beloved pet wombat, or the ship’s navigator ?
*Note – if you say beer or wombat, you are dead to me*
Yes, those really are the questions.
If you were expecting, “Name the most influential person in your life” or “What is your favorite memory of childhood” you’re reading the wrong blog.
We do things differently here.
Yes, I realize you can’t unsee that.
But if you’re struggling for a stripper name… feel free to be inspired.
Being bitten on the hand by a horse fly while mowing the lawn and having it swell up to 5 times it’s normal size.
Hot, stiff and throbbing.
And not in a good way.
I don’t like….
Being bitten on the ankle by a horse fly the next day and having it swell up to epic proportions as well.
WTH?
Did one of you clowns stick a Bite Me sign on my back…
I don’t like….
Being late to lunch with friends because I lost the husband to yet another junk filled yard sale he just couldn’t drive by.
He came back with a bag… and I didn’t even want to know what was in it.
I don’t like….
The fact that the husband owns a chain saw.
This birch tree had one bad section… one.
So bye bye entire tree.
Nothing is safe. Except the two dead flowering plum trees I’ve been after him to cut for years. Those?
He leaves alone.
I don’t like….
Going out to check on the baby catbird nest and finding momma’s feathers on the ground…
And an empty nest knocked loose from the bush.
Poor little things.
I don’t like….
Things that come in threes. First our too new to die damn it refrigerator, then my car’s air conditioner, and now the husband’s truck’s air conditioner. There’s a conspiracy afoot to make me sweat.
As we were pulling out of our driveway the other day I spotted something odd in front of our deer ravaged Yew bushes….
Naturally I made the husband stop while I ran back inside for my camera.
It was an odd looking bird I hadn’t seen before…
And when I looked it up online, I understood why.
It was a Chukar.
Introduced from Eurasia, the sandy-brown Chukar is a game bird that lives in high desert plains of western North America, as well as in Hawaii and New Zealand. Its namesake call echoes across dry rocky slopes. It runs and scampers up steep terrain with the agility and speed of a mountain goat, prompting hunters to nickname it the “devil bird” for the brutal chase it gives. Dark bars on the sides and a band across the head and neck adorn this red-billed game bird.
A devil bird?
Well that’s disturbing…
If you look at the map of it’s range in the U.S…..
You’ll see it’s a long way from Maine.
Which got me curious enough to do a little research.
Oh, stop being so dramatic….. you might learn something.
It’s nothing you need or want to know, but still.
Depending on where you live, you may have the fortune of encountering a medium-sized game bird called Chukar. You’ll recognize this bird from their inclusion in many North American field guides, though they are not a native species. Chukars, pronounced “chuh-kahr“, are an introduced species, originating from mountains of middle Eurasia, now common around the western United States’ Great Basin north into western Canada. With this history, and a lack of showing any establishing populations in Maine, Chukars should be treated like other escaped domestic fowl.
Of course. Happy to…
The American Birding Association put forth Criteria for Determining Establishment of Exotics which Maine’s Chukars don’t meet. These birds are raised and released by commercial hunting operations with no success establishing wild populations. Northern Bobwhites are another game species widely released in Maine. While these small quails have successfully bred in the wild multiple times, none of the populations appear to be growing or even stable enough to warrant becoming established.
So basically they’ve taken these poor birds, who have no hope of surviving here, and released them into the wild so they can hunt and kill them. Of course the ones they don’t shoot will probably die of cold or starvation.
Makes me wish I had scooped the sweet little guy up and brought him in the house as a pet.
Humans are cruel.
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
