fowl weather

Well, the heat wave is over, for the moment. It’ll be back and I have fudgesicles at the ready.

In the mean time, here are some hot, hot chicks for your animal idiom pleasure. ( It’ will be interesting to see how much traffic I get via the search words ‘Hot Chicks.’)

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messie nessie

Perhaps because today is Monday. Maybe the unseasonable 98 degree heat can be blamed. Then again, it may simply be the mass quantity of sugar-free fudgesicles consumed in an attempt to beat said unseasonable heat. What ever the reason, Nessie, that behemoth, Scottish lass of Loch Ness Monster lore, continually intruded upon my thoughts today.

She did this all day long.

Her and that maniacally, cheerful grin.

My only recourse, tonight, was to wipe the fudgesicle schmutz off my chin and draw Nessie. Draw her in an effort to exorcise the silly, sea serpent, nuisance from my mind.

Ok, that, and just one more fudgesicle.

wrinkles

WRINKLES THE RHINO

This fellow I know,
a rotund rhino,
finds grazing completely preposterous.

Prefers reading sonnets,
to birds sitting on it,
forgetting to be a rhinoserous.

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The Illustration Friday theme this week is “Wrinkles.”

cat got your tongue?

sugar gramps

Most weekdays, around 2 p.m. you’ll find me hanging out at a ridiculously popular cafe, walking distance from where I work in the Valley. I usually sip a little coffee, (decaf these days) and do some sketching. Bunnies perhaps.

Not feeling especially moved to draw any of the customers du jour today, I did, in fact, sketch out a bunny or two. As I scrawled out a cottontail, behind me I could hear an impatient

ninja squirrels

I watched a squirrel gracefully bound across the street in front of my car the other day. His small body and bushy tail undulated comically to the other side of the busy thoroughfare. As I absentmindedly watched, my car idling at the red light, I was reminded of

primitive

Fossils of the lesser known Bunnisaurus Rex have been found in a variety of rock formations dating to the last three million years of the Carrotaceous period, approximately 68 to 65 million years ago.

Like the Tyrannosaurus Rex, the Bunnisaurus was bipedal, with a massive skull balanced by a long heavy cotton-tipped tail and very small forearms. Unlike the Tyrannosaurus Rex, the B Rex, as they are sometimes referred to, were herbivores, feeding on the now extinct intelligent form of carrot. Further differences of note include: fluffiness and mood swings ranging from giddy to dangerously annoyed.

The Illustration Friday theme this week is “Primitive.”

damn fine cup of decaf… zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

For reasons I won’t bore you with right now, my doctor suggested I cut down on my caffeine intake. What? Two to three double, short cappuccinos a day is too much?

Apparently it is… who knew?

So, obediently I began

fail dos

“They’ll never find me now, hee hee.”

Iggy fails to grasp the full concept of hiding.

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Illustration Friday’s theme this week is “Fail.”

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fail

Henrietta prided herself on being one of the rare hens with teeth and never failed to brush them.

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I’m still on this animal idiom kick. I imagine it’s because ideas for daily sketches can be a bit elusive at times and this theme is pretty rich with visuals. Why, I haven’t even exhausted the chicken phrases yet.

Let’s see, there was the “chicken who crossed the road”, supposedly to get to the other side. However, I think that’s “a cock-and -bull story.” If she hadn’t “counted her chickens before they hatched”, she may not have “chickened out”. Now, she’ll have to wait “till the “chickens come home to roost.”

Sorry, had to get that get that off my chest.

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I’m cheating a bit. This is from an older post. I freshened Henrietta up a bit with some color and pushed her chicken butt back on the stage. If you would like to see the older post and the black and white image, take a look here.

The Illustration Friday theme this week is “Fail.”

naked as a jaybird

NIGHTMARE

I woke up with a start today,
because my dream went wayward.
I dreamt I went to my first class,
naked as a jaybird.

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“Naked as a jaybird” seems an odd phrase, especially when you consider the blue jay is quite nicely outfitted in blue, feathery, finery. However, I couldn’t really tell you the origin of this idiom, although some folks speculate that the term may have something to do with the youngsters of the jay family.  Baby jays, featherless, (naked, you might say) have a tendency to get so overexcited and impatient about getting out there and flying, that they sometimes clumsily plop right out of their nests. So, I suppose we can just go with that one, unless anyone out there can unlock the secret.

Hee hee, little naked jaybirds scrambling about on the ground, waiting for mama jay to bail them out. How embarrassing, eh? Wonder if they ever dreamt that would happen.

 

 

where…

… have all the bunnies gone?

We’re well into April now and I have yet to see evidence of even one single long-eared silhouette within the neighborhood. Not in our yard. Not in the neighbor’s yard. Not even the yard down the street, where there was once a veritable bunny sock-hop going on, one Spring.

This Spring, it seems the housing development up the street has slowed down it’s building, for obvious economic reasons. So my hope is, although housing production for us humans has slowed, perhaps bunny hutch building is, as a result, booming. A hutching bubble, if you will.

It seems very possible that our little cotton-tailed friends have packed up their bunny bags and headed for greener pastures. Either that or they’ve all been abducted by aliens and were whisked away to a planet where they will now peacefully co-exist with the long, tall, conical shaped, orange people with bushy green hair.

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Related bunny story.

sitting in the catbird seat

CAT-BIRD seated.

If you are sitting in the “Catbird Seat” you are sitting pretty, or in a favored position. You have the upper hand, an advantage.

Now there seems to be a bit of debate on whether the legendary baseball broadcaster Red Barber coined this phrase or if he borrowed the folksy phrase from his Southern origins. Some feel he may have lifted the phrase from James Thurber’s 1942 short story of the same name “The Catbird Seat.” However, according to Wikipedia, Barber’s daughter claims her dad began using the phrase only after reading Thurber’s story. But then Red Barber says Thurber purloined the term from him… and so it goes, back and forth. Is it really important? Not so much.

In another part of the world, the Australian bowerbird is also known as the catbird. This little guy is known for his elaborate, artistic displays, in order to attract a mate. Some males will gather up hundreds of shells, colored glass or rock and arrange them into a remarkable “seat” upon which his potential mate will be enthroned. A favored postion? Sitting pretty perhaps?

Hmmmmm. I think I get it now.

Well, regardless of the etymology, it seems our hero above, in the makeshift bird costume, as hard as he may be trying, is not fooling anyone, least of all his little bird friend. Cat-bird is in anything but a favored postion. Nor is he sitting or otherwise pretty.

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As an aside, I hadn’t realized until looking up the etymology for this phrase that the bowerbird would be involved. Ironically, my friend Laurel at Studio Lolo had posted a beautiful painting of one of these magical fellows. Take a look.

save

Ahem.

Excuse me. You there. Yes, you sipping that awful, hot, dark liquid, showing off your opposable thumbs. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Elle E. Phant, spokesperson for A.L.L. (Animals Love Life) and I’d like to take just a moment of your time.

On behalf of all my fellow creatures, I’d just like to say WTF! What the heck is going on with you bi-pedals anyway? I mean, can’t we all just get along?

Ahem, I apologize. Had a wee panic attack there for a moment.

Anywho, we’ve all gathered here today to say, let’s all join hands, paws, hooves and flippers. Let’s see if we can come up with some solutions to the myriad issues we have going on today concerning endangered and at risk wildlife. I won’t even go into it. Y’all know what the issues are. If not, use those 10 wiggley things at the end of your arms and Google some info. I’d do it for you, but I have these big, stumpy feets and I keep hitting the wrong keys.

Thank you in advance for helping to save us animals. That’s it. You can get back to that smelly beverage now.

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The Illustration Friday theme this week is “Save.”

poppies

Tom and I took a drive to Lancaster today to experience some California poppy action. We drove an hour to the Antelope Valley Poppy Reserve to experience what was touted as peak blooming time and we were hell-bent on getting some kick-butt photos.

We were not disappointed. Well, maybe just a little. Although the hills were ablaze with the delicate red-headed beauties, high winds had caused the flowers to become shy and close themselves up. Still the experience was akin to a scene right out of the Wizard of Oz. But instead of curling up and taking a snooze amongst the firey blooms, like Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion, we found ourselves being literally pushed and tossed about by what must have been at least 60 mph winds.

One poor chap had his glasses blow right off his face and spent quite a bit of time searching through the shrubbery to find them. It was as if Mother Nature was playing hide and seek with him. Not sure if he ever did find them. Chalk one up for Mama Natch.

Meanwhile, Tom and I took turns standing with our arms outstretched, like a couple of goofy kids, leaning forward and letting the wind hold us up. It felt a bit like flying, flying over a red carpet of paaahhhhhhhppies!

So, if you’re ever in the area, say around April, you really must stop by and see this wonder of the natural world. But hopefully, for your full enjoyment, the winds will be a bit more tame and the wee poppies will be coaxed into opening up and showing their full glory.