So.

Entry #700.

Seems like I should have something profound to say here, but instead I think I'll use this entry to catch up on some unfinished business (sort of like the late birthday card we mailed to my father today, only more than a week late). Some late responses to a few questions or comments left from earlier entries.

First, to Lisa:

Thanks for the ID on this plant that I was calling "dovepea".

You're right. It's in the Cleome genus, which my plant guide calls "bee-plant," rather than "spider flower."

"Spider flower" makes more sense when you look at the blossom. And we use the "bee-plant" name for the borage that the wife used to grow in our garden (wonderful plant for attracting both bees and hummingbirds, by the way). Since the garden was left to seed so many years ago, the borage disappeared.

Except for one small plant this summer, bearing one blue blossom, that snuck out to hang over my raspberry-loving heeler's gravestone.

Carolus Linnaeus certainly gave us a gift with his scientific nomenclature. My book says the flower is Cleome serrulata.

And no, I don't know of any persimmon (Diospyros) in this piece of the country. Might be some in the Black Hills, though.

To The Finn and Hooligan:

I apologize for linking Coloradoans with *shudder* Texans in the same sentence. I am well aware of the negative feelings Texans generate in your state, particularly in points further south. You can imagine my surprise to find these hunters were sharing vehicles, much less a campsite.

But over the years, I have come to accept the fact that there are some pretty decent folks in or from Texas. (No, not the two Texans in national office. A gorgeous redhead in next month's issue of Playboy, for example... yes, the wife bought me a subscription after we were married, and it continues to this day.) And I have to mention that I currently reside on ground that used to be part of the late great nation of Texas. Just 15 miles or so south of Louisiana.

Fortunately, wiser heads moved the Texas state's boundary south. But I believe the insidious invasion of Texans into your state and this part of mine is a secret conspiracy by those people to reclaim this ground.

Since it is obviously better than anything they kept.

Trinity asked what happened to the little red-breasted nuthatch.

It died.

Other than that, I do not know. Two likely causes, though.

One would be exposure/hypothermia/starvation. While the Karo-water treatment is good for warming birds up, and giving them quick energy along with hydration, it is only sugar. So like little kids on sugar, the sugar rush burns off.

A mid night flashlight check of the little guy found him still perched on his branch. As I crawled into bed, I again asked the wife if I maybe shouldn't have brought him inside in a box.

But that almost always ends up with a dead bird in a box in the morning.

I hate finding dead birds in a box in the morning. Some have stayed there in the living room for a day or two because I didn't want to have to deal with them once they didn't make it. (I have an amazingly tolerant wife, don't I?)

So, maybe this one should have come inside. I don't know. Of course, the other possibility is that he was amazingly docile because he had suffered an injury that could not be seen. In which case he was doomed from the start. But at least he died free with a drink and a meal, in a spruce tree, rather than hungry and cold on a sidewalk, or in a stuffy box.

This is a common occurance in our household. With only a handful of success stories.

(And no, I've never been up in a balloon.)

Rift, I was going to send an email, but this will do here. I hope you don't think there is anything wrong with writing about letting guinea pigs run free as an entry. Repeatedly.

While it may seem mundane, it gives me comfort to read about it, and know that at least some things are still right with the world. Just because there is a young woman in the southwest who still lets her guinea pigs out to run loose on Saturday.

And to Lio:

I'm glad that you are comforted by knowing I'm out here reading. I would extend my wing any time you need it, but the miles are awfully long. But you should know you seem to be doing quite fine by yourself, thank you very much. And I am pleased to know you are reading me just as well. (And that goes for the rest of you, too.)

And finally, to Melissa:

Not sure if I actually owe you any responses or not, just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate the frequent comments. Brightens my day just to know you're reading (even though the sitemeter tells me that... the notes are better). Now if you would just write a little more often...

Now, I hope this synopsis hasn't slighted anyone. Lorinda, I haven't forgotten the auction souvenir you wanted. When I can get a decent picture of the rocks up here, you'll have to pick your choice and send me a mailing address. And Joanna, if it wouldn't wake the boys to go get it downloaded, I have a pic that I just might put up for a day or two, if you really want to see me.