Sunday, April 19, 2009


A neighbor came to the main office of St. Holiday's Avian Sanctuary (SHAS) this afternoon with two vagabond birdlings, a chick and a duckling. He saw them walking together down the middle of fashionable 8th Avenue. Since they appeared to be bound for Nowhere, he immediately thought of Show Low's well-known ornery-thologist and his doting wifelet, The Lovely One. Their affection for all things small and vulnerable, especially if they have wings and feathers, may someday become the subject of a documentary. Upon application for asylum, SHAS accepted the two birdy buddies and made provision for their protection and sustenance, as would be expected at such a glamorous and incomparable retreat. The Lovely One has fussed and budgeted over the peeping pair. The sanctuary's three famous hens, Prissy, Pepper and Pearl, have been keeping their distance for the time being, wondering aloud what this intrusion may portend. Tom Chickee and Huckleberry Duck are now resting comfortably side by side in a makeshift wire and post pen, which is covered over by a bedsheet to thwart our dive-bombing, murderous hawks. The Lovely One is standing guard with a loaded pistol in the event some predacious cat or fox should trespass upon the domain of the refuge with evil intent. "I will send them straight to hell," she proclaimed, when asked what she would do if the new residents are threatened by such. All of this comes at a busy time for St. Holiday, who has been vying with Johnny Depp for the open ambassadorship to Somalia.

Saturday, April 18, 2009


Having observed and recorded their migratory patterns for the past seven years here at Show Low's pre-famous St. Holiday's Avian Sanctuary (SHAS), we anticipated that our beloved Northern Orioles (Bullocks Variety) would return around April 15th. So, on the 13th, we hung a feeder full of sweet juice in our ancient alligator juniper, a favorite place of pilgrimage for these beautiful birds, and we watched for the first migrant to arrive. Right on schedule, in the afternoon of April 15th, the leader came with a greeting from Mexico and more southern parts. The Lovely One took his picture, and it is posted above. As always, the first is a mature male, an elder of the great tribe, which comes to the White Mountains here in eastern Arizona for breeding. It is a supreme joy to see the first one come. We know many others will soon follow in the days ahead. First, the males will arrive, and then the females. Many of these will be returning to SHAS, the place of their nativity. We will provide many feeders for them and keep them consistently filled throughout the breeding season and until they make their way to their southern home in August. It is a satisfying experience to facilitate the propagation of these magnificent birds. At the end of June, we will expect to see the first offspring brought to our feeders. We delight in their playfulness, agility and curiosity. They come right to our windows and peer in, watching our activity inside. This is all we need to renew our commitment to them for the years to come.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009


Again the hyperbolic St. Holiday has established a standard for the masses, by filing his IRS Tax Extension Form one day early. "No one can accuse me of procrastination," exclaimed the holy man from the front porch of his Show Low sanctuary. Having just completed his latest sacred epistle, aptly named "Stationary of the Cross Wife," the White Mountain's Jedi of the Pen awoke from his fevered dreams at the Dawn of the Dad, and the first words from his mouth were, "I have a duty to perform!" How typical; how diligent; how inspiring! Moving at a break-knickknack pace, while patiently enduring the intense pleasure of his angel mother's hand-dipped chocolates, the one known widely as the Ancient of Weeks went into go motion like a SEAL sniper. Though the sight of the Tax Extension Form was as appealing as a cold catheter, the saintly one threw himself into the labor, worked furiously for all of ten minutes, and succeeded in the deed. Now he is possessed of an irrational, wild optimism that he will somehow be able to pay his tax bill at the end of the six month period of forbearance.

With regard to that other embarrassing incident, Saint Holiday has at all times insisted upon his innocence and continues to do so, except to the Lovely One, who happens to know the truth.