Deer!

We have all read for years that the deer population in the United States is burgeoning. Now I am a believer.

We had deer in Connecticut, to be sure, but a bigger threat in the Northwest Hills were the bears. The occasional deer wandered into our yard, almost as if it were lost. We did see some deer damage from grazing a couple of times—especially some hostas—but it was not the kind of problem to worry about. We saw far more turkeys in our yard than we ever saw deer.

Now, as I say, I am a believer: deer are a terrible pest in Central Texas. The reason is clear—their natural predators (coyotes and the like) have been killed off, so deer have proliferated. Because of the drought in Central Texas, the deer population is unduly stressed, and they are looking for food all the time. As a result, they eat almost everything that grows. There are some exceptions. They do not eat yews, yaupon holly, or oleanders. No one eats oleanders—the bush that never has insect damage of any kind. Every part of the oleander is poisonous, and somehow the deer seem to know that. But they also know that everything else is like a midnight buffet for their enjoyment.

The chronic problem with the deer (usually observed in packs of 8-12) became an acute issue for us after a recent landscaping project. We noticed nibbling on plants that are supposed to be deer-proof! (All local nurserymen are saying that when deer are distressed—as they are with this drought—they are apt to eat anything—even the supposedly “safe” plants, so they offer no guarantees.)

I have gone to the trusty internet to research home-made deer repellents. This afternoon I mixed up my first batch in hopes that this concoction will do the trick. Here is the recipe:
Beat together 1 egg with ½ cup milk. Add 1 T of cooking oil and 1 T of dish soap. Add to 1 gallon of water and mix well. I added 2 additional ingredients—minced garlic and dried blood. I have long used powdered dried blood as a natural repellent. Herbivores (rabbits, squirrels, deer) hate the smell of it, so I figured it would work in this potion as well.

Tomorrow I will check closely to see if the midnight nibbling has come to a halt.

Back to the Blog

With apologies to my readers who were wondering what happened to the blog, I am back.

Last week I was away at a meeting of readers of the ordination examinations of third-year seminarians. It was a full—and exhausting—week, full of spirited discussions about ethics, moral theology, church history, and the theory and practice of ministry.

I returned to Central Texas to receive the first batch of essays from the students in the introduction to fiction course. Since that time I have been reading essays on Flannery O’Connor (and gently correcting students who referred to the noted writer of short stories as “he”) while alternating grading with more work in the yard—attempting to transform our limestone rockpile into a beautiful garden.

The papers are almost finished; the garden is a much larger project. I will return to an account of our adventures in our new home and random thoughts on life and times.

Again, the picture is simply presented for your enjoyment.

Bilingualism

It seems as if we have been talking about bilingualism in the United States for a long time. It is a subject that I always brought up in my class on the history of the English language--both to stimulate students to consider the matter and also to test their reaction to the concept.

A strange thing has happened since relocating to Central Texas late last year. All of a sudden, it seems, bilingualism has occurred--or at least it is occurring. There are many Hispanics in Texas, but then there were many Hispanics in Connecticut as well. Hispanics in the Northeast are primarily from Puerto Rico and Caribbean countries; Texas Hispanics for the most part have migrated from Mexico and Central America. Recognition of Spanish as the primary language of many citizens in Connecticut were few. In Central Texas there are many. Signs in public places are often in both English and Spanish; telephone menus invariably offer the option of proceeding in English or Spanish.

It is encouraging to observe that the creeping bilingualism is neither awkward nor controversial, and no one mentions it--except newcomers like yours truly, intent on noticing everything that differs from life as it was previously experienced.

Time Zones

After more than two months in the Central Time Zone, I am still not used to it. Somehow, it just doesn’t “feel” right.

The surprising aspect of this to me is that I once never thought I could get used to the Eastern Time Zone. Prime Time at 10:00 pm? News delayed until 11:00? Waiting until 11:30 for “Saturday Night Live”? Now the switch back seems abnormal.

I miss my old buddy Brian Williams, but there is just no way to watch the NBC Nightly News at 5:30—the middle of the afternoon! I have to admit, however, that I’ve watched more of “The Tonight Show” in the last two months than in the preceding 10 years.

Next week I will be on the East Coast for a week-long meeting. I imagine when I return I will be thoroughly confused. And then soon it will be time for Daylight Savings Time again!

And, in case you are wondering what the llama has to do with time zones, the answer is absolutely nothing. I just love that old feller, whom I first met at a farm in Williamstown, Massachusetts and thought I should share him with the world.

The Day the Music Died

3 February 1959—50 years ago.

The story of the plane crash in that Iowa cornfield is so well known that the facts are recognized even by those who only heard the story long after the fact. The implications of the accident that took the lives of Richie Valens, the Big Bopper (J.P. Richardson), and Buddy Holly continue to be debated even today.

All three of these young musicians had experienced modest success and had brilliant futures ahead of them, but historians of rock and roll especially consider the death of Buddy Holly a loss. After a brief career (four years if the clock starts when he was in junior high school), Buddy Holly has been called “the single most influential creative force in early rock and roll” (Bruce Eder). In these earliest days of rock, Holly appeared with Elvis Presley and with Bill Haley and the Comets, but he broke out on his own with “That’ll Be the Day” in 1956. As Holly worked to create a career, he recorded both as a single artist and with a group he founded, known as the Crickets. The story may be apocryphal or merely rock legend, but the new young group forming in Liverpool, England, called their group “the Beatles” in tribute to the Crickets from the dusty, West Texas town of Lubbock.

Holly went solo and was traveling with Valens, Waylon Jennings, and Richardson, going from one Midwestern gig to another in early 1959 before the fatal crash. Hard as it is to believe, these talented but obscure artists, more famous in death than ever in life, endured numerous hardships for their art. The bus on which they were traveling lost its heating system and the group’s drummer suffered frostbite on his feet and had to leave the tour—which meant for a while that the singers took their turns on the drums for various one-night stands. On the fateful night after a concert in Green Bay, Wisconsin, the group drove down to Clear Lake, Iowa, and then were due in Moorhead, Minnesota the next day. Buddy decided to charter a plane to travel north to take him, Waylon Jennings, and Tommy Allsup to their next performance. Richie Valens asked to go on the plane, so he and Allsup flipped a coin to see who would get the cherished seat on the Beechcraft plane. Allsup lost. Richardson had been sick with the flu so he asked Jennings to switch with him and Waylon agreed, later revealing that he was not sure he could come up with the $36 charge for each of the passengers. Thus it was that Valens, the Big Bopper, and Buddy all boarded the plane on that snowy night, intent on meeting up with the band the next day in Minnesota. And thus these three careers were ended before they really got started.

Don McLean’s song, “The Day the Music Died,” is aptly named.

Candlemas

The second day of February may be celebrated as Groundhog Day in the secular world, but there is also a special significance to the date in the church. This day goes by various terms—Candlemas Day, the Presentation of the Lord in the Temple, and the Purification of the Virgin—and it is one of the most ancient feasts in the church calendar.

St. Luke tells us (2: 22-40) that Mary and Joseph took their baby to the temple forty days after his birth to complete the ritual purification of Mary according to the law of Moses. There they encountered one of the interesting characters from the Bible about whom we know very little, but whose fame resides in the encounter that occurred at this moment—Simeon the Righteous. The old Simeon had been promised that he would not see death “before he had seen the Messiah of the Lord” (Luke 2: 26). When Simeon saw the infant Jesus he responded with the prayer that the church has named the Nunc Dimittis:
Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy Word,
for my eyes have seen thy salvation, which thou has prepared before the face
of all people, a light to enlighten the Gentiles, and the glory of thy people Israel.
The beautiful Nunc Dimittis is included to this day in various liturgical occasions, such as the offices of Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer.

Simeon went on to prophesy to Mary, “Behold, this child is set for the fall and rising again of many in Israel; and for a sign which shall be spoken against—yea, a sword shall pierce through thine own soul also—that the thoughts of many hearts may be revealed.” (Luke 2: 34-35) In earlier times, candles were blessed in church for distribution to the faithful to use in their homes throughout the year (hence the term “Candlemas”) but increasingly the emphasis on this day has become the prophesy of Simeon the Righteous about the role of Jesus as the Messiah to all people.

So how did we get from Candlemas to Groundhog Day? In the United Kingdom historically the belief sprang up that good weather at Candlemas is an indication of severe weather to come:
If Candlemas Day is clear and bright,
Winter will have another bite.
If Candlemas Day brings clouds and rain,
Winter is gone and will not come again.
When you think today of Punxsuatawney Phil, remember Simeon the Righteous as well!

A Super Bowl First

With apologies to all who are suffering through this never-ending winter in the northeast, I have to reveal that we watched the Super Bowl (great game until the last minute) outdoors! Our next-door neighbors had a game-watching party on their deck and it did not get cool until the fourth quarter. This was surely a first for us. Neighbors brought all the requisite Super Bowl soul foods--chili, barbecued ribs, jalapeño dip, blackeyed peas, and chocolate brownies. Now this is the way to usher in February!