"I Thought, Is It Too Early To Thank Old Saint Nick?"

 

 

Good Thanksgiving Thursday Morning, all bodies.

In the afternoon two days before today, I walked into Folsom's "The Donut Stop" to assure myself that there would be enough chocolate covered Bavarian creme donuts and apple fritters. The young woman at the counter, let's just call her Darcy, assured me that there would be but that they'd be closing at 1pm the day before Thanksgiving.

She asked me if I wanted to to secure my order and I told her that I didn't think that that would be necessary though in the back of my mind, I knew better. The Donut Stop's apple fritters are legendary.

Well, I should have placed an order, and then again, Darcy might have mistook my indecision and did it anyway!

It's been our Macy's Morning tradition even in California, to order danish and bearclaws and serve it with a big bowl of fruit. I can't find bearclaws that I like on the Northshore, so apple fritters fill the void... So to speak!

So yesterday around 10am, I saunter into the bakery to find no apple fritters on the shelf, or in the back, baking..AACK!

The woman who knows me from my frequent visits over the years, apologized and said that they were holding in a box, two apple fritters and two chocolate covered Bavarian creme donuts for pickup sometime today... for someone!

"Aw jeez, my wife told me that I should've placed an order," I said.

Therese who was with me was a bit disinterested because she spotted on the shelf plenty of chocolate covered Bavarian creme donuts.

So the manager, sporting a camo baseball cap, and wearing a long black apron that covered his camouflaged ensemble, seemed to be biding his time till 1pm. He came to the counter to see what was the problem.

After telling my tale hoping that Darcy mistook my non-order as an actual order, I awaited the manager's decision. The older woman told the manager that they were saving the order, but that there was no name written on the order.

I could tell by the sympathetic look on her face that she was pleading the case in defense of the entire staff as well as my traditional Macy's parade need.

The manager put his large hands across his salt and pepper gray beard and scrubbed it in thought.

"So, we don't know who actually made the order," right?

The older woman handling the drive up window, nodded.

"And it is the exact same order this man is looking for, right?"

"That's right," she said.

I could tell as he continued rubbing his beard that he was thinking about that "bird in an hand" stuff...

"Well then, let these folks have it!"

"That'll be $ 8.53 with tax," he said, confident in the finality of his decision.

I thought, is it too early to thank Old Saint Nick?

First home brewed with fritters!

Oh yeh, c... y'all.

Copyright 2023/Ben Bensen III

 

."Belton, the belted kingfisher.".

The Little Opportunist!

 Good "late Wednesday Morning," everyone!

We drove into Merrywood a few evenings ago, and circled the bird sanctuary to notice white things on the lake. Slowing down, I noticed that those white things were egrets, ibis, herons and other shore birds feasting on the slowly drying up lake... It's pretty sad. I don't think Louisiana has ever had a drought as long, hot and intense as the one we've been experiencing in the last three or four months or more.

Bird Sanctuary Pond

We get all kinds of the feathered visitors according to the seasons, but one that seems to endure the changes is our clownish resident, the belted kingfisher and his babe. Most of the times, one finds it hard to locate them around the many ponds and the sanctuary lake, but you sure can hear their noisy "rattle" that seems to express their disgust with being disturbed.

Perched high up on a very flexible branch with a coififure that is straight out of a punk rock group, the kingfisher overlooks the lake, bounces and awaits the right moment dive bomb the lake for a scaly tidbit. We sat quietly in the car for about twenty minutes to checkout the action.

We were both laughing in disbelief when we saw the "belted one" dive down and actually snatch a fish right out an ibis's mouth and take it to the treetops on the other side of the lake.

Little stinker!

A sketch inspired by the antics of the clownish freshwater fisherman. Maybe tomorrow, I clean it up and add some digital color!

A few adjustments were made!

I'm pretty happy with the outcome so, I think I'll give the bird a name. The name "Belton." seems appropriate and kinda Cajun though not as popular as Boudreaux or Benoit!

I'm okay with that...Belton, the belted kingfisher... ha!

Copyright 2023/ Ben Bensen III

" Don't Look At Me,"

 

"Don't Do Like They Used To!"

Good " Don't Look At Me," Sunday Morning, all bodies.

Last night, after that LSU debacle, we settled in on a baseball game. I sensed that Tee didn't want me to return to the studio after dinner. All through the baseball game, our dawg was stalking Therese's left over potatoes.

He was told, way too many times, to go sit, but his "MO" is to wait a few minutes and jump off the sofa pretending to be thirsty. He'll take a perfunctory sip at his water bowl and then, as if no one is watching, plop himself at Tee's feet just under the table that holds the potatoes. I casually point to the sofa and he acquiesces, but five minutes later, he's thirsty again.

It reminded me of the game I played pitting wits between my mother and Pierre.

"Mom, don't feed the dawg," I'd say.

"I'm not!"

Naturally, the discussion has to end there otherwise we'd have a yell fest, which wouldn't help anyone's digestion! Even though mom knows I know she does feed the mutt, she tells me she doesn't. Pierre circles the table like a shark waiting for his chance to attack.

"Pierre, go away," I'd yell.

He uses his patented "thirsty pup routine" and then, moves in for the umpteenth time. In the corner of my eye, I see my mother lean over to stealthily drop the dog another tidbit, saying...

"Don't look at me, Murgatroyd! Benny told me not to feed you!

Mom always referred to that moniker with disdain, or when she couldn't remember a person's name.

Ah... such memories!

Finally, after the ballgame is over, Therese gets up and returns her plate, with the uneaten potatoes, to the kitchen counter. Taking his chances that I'll yell at him again, he slips off the sofa and follows Therese's every step. Then, he puts on the cocker spaniel charm and looks up to her longingly.

From across the room, Tee looks at me with a smirk and says to the dawg...

"Don't look at me, Pierre, Benny told me not to feed you!"

First cup...

Copyright 2023/Ben Bensen III

"Thud... and a "Cold Cocked Cardinal Is On Its Back!"

An attempted heart shaped couple.

 Good Saturday Morning, y'all.

St. Louis is jogging my memory a bit. It reminds me of a failed attempt to capture a cardinal adventure that happened months ago. There was a thud against the breakfast nook window unlike the familiar thump I occasionally hear around the early spring when fledgling birds try to test their independence only to bounce off the screened windows.

But this was a distinct THUD!

So, I left the kitchen and walked out near the bird bath to find a "cold cocked" cardinal on its back with its feet straight up in the air. I took a look at the bird's eye to notice it was not sunken in, which is a sign that blood is running through the cardinal's head.

I had a large wooden spoon with me and gave the bird a slight poke... There was no movement, so I waited.

I went back into the kitchen to check on the soup I was making, and wait a bit. About five minutes passed before I went back out to see if the bird left, but it was still belly up. I gave it another poke and attempted to flip it over on its chest and it gave me a rather aggravated screech like I had awakened it from a good dream.

I gave it one convincing poke under the wings and he flapped his wings and complained again... but, I bit louder. I went back inside to check on the soup and to give the bird another five minutes to compose itself. Finally, the colorful male took one look at me, freaked out and dizzily fluttered a few feet unto a branch of our maple tree. The whole process of shaken out the cobwebs and making it to the tree took all of about a half an hour.

But, strangest thing is seeing the female cardinal meet him as he entered the azalea bush a few feet away. She obviously was concerned, but decided to wait and see what transpired for she was nowhere to be found as I attempted to awaken her "beau."

A minute or so later, they both took off for the safety of the tree line probably to continue feeding their brood. Blue skies...

Copyright 2023/Ben Bensen III

"A Family Of Cardinals Started The Proceedings Of Excommunication!"

 Good Monday Morning, y’all.

The bluejays are full of scorn. The female titmice flashed me in disgust. The woodpeckers pounded a tree and screamed their disapproval. The chickadees chattered, “yeh, you rite,” and shot me the bird while a family of cardinals started the proceedings of excommunication. The hummers just hummed.

I apologized profusely and tried to explain that it wasn’t my fault. It was Perky Pet!

That’s right. After rebuilding and rebuilding while searching for years to replace the original Cathedral Feeder with a new one, my wife actually found one.

That first feeder lasted, with some help, about ten or twelve years. I cajoled, chastised and even caressed that feeder. At one point, I believe that I totally rebuilt every aspect of that feeder using bleach, glue, gesso, varnish, finishing nails, and one ply plywood. I attached it to a stand that was originally belonged to a bluebird feeder until I accidentally backed into it with my lawn tractor.

Sadly, this new Perky Pet Feeder is slowly falling apart like a French cathedral. It is barely two years old. Damn those Chinese! Let’s make America Great Again by first designing and building a better bird feeder!

Of course, I was smart because I bought two more of the famous feeder, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna give those birds the satisfaction of a new place to worship even if it is easier to just replace it. They are just gonna have to go out and, and eat worms… or something.

I wonder if there are any “building code” violations to poorly built bird feeders that I can pursue?

Copyright 2023/Ben Bensen III

"Speak Softly And Carry A Big Paint Brush, Bridget!"

Curating was fun while it lasted...

 Well, good Saturday Morning on another sleepy, dusty, delta day, all bodies!

Some rain would be nice!

One of the really great things I loved about curating at City Hall in Covington was all the wonderful art I got to see and discovering the artists that created them. One of those was Bridget Jarvis, who indefatigable spirit shined through everything she did and everyone she met. I only got to spend a few moments with her over the last few years, but had the chance to speak with her, at length, when she rolled on in with her paintings and the "HueDats" about her disability, her art and her perspective on life.

I was told about a week ago that she passed away leaving a hole in the hearts of everyone who was lucky enough to have made her acquaintance. Speak softly and carry a big paint brush up there in the heavens, Bridget.

No cups, yet!

Copyright 2023/ Ben Bensen III

"Once Again... This Time With Soul!"

Before... on site!

And, Once again...

 Good "for a good cause!" Wednesday, all bodies.

About five years ago, I painted this waterway near the Prieto Marina near Mandeville and hung it in one of the few one man shows I've ever done. The show was a lotta fun, but I only sold one panting and I sold it to a high school girl friend I hadn't seen in a very long time. The painting was entitled, "The Best Seat In The House!"

Twenty minutes after I sold it to Cathy, a family friend wanted to buy it. Many business opps came to mind, but a sale is a sale... is a sale. When I offered to paint another one for him but at a higher price, Ken jump on it. I have done such things in my commercial business.

Too often ad agencies don't know what they like until they see it!

Every Christmas get together, Ken inquires about the state of that art. "Yeh, man," it is still available, and the deal is still the same." (It has been in and out of many galleries, at different prices.) I'm still pretty proud of how the second one turned out... Damn near nailed it, but I have no record of the original that I sold to Cathy except the one on an easel, unfinished.

This morning I dropped off a few paintings at The Far Horizons Gallery to be auctioned off for a good cause... And, I donated one called "The Best Seat In The House!"

First cup!

Copyright 2023/ Ben Bensen III