Welcome to Degustan

As I mentioned before, the little one passed all the requirements for owning pets, and after we spent the summer researching and finding a good breeder, as well as me spending a couple of weeks turning an old cupboard into a pet habitat, the degus finally arrived on Wednesday. They are three young females (three being the minimum size of a group) called Candy, Katja and Estelle. Katja and Estelle are siblings, while Candy comes from a different litter, but they are very close in age so they were easy to socialise (the breeder did that for us) and are a good basis for a group.

But let’s start with the habitat, nicknamed “Degustan”:

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I cut an opening into my grandma’s old kitchen cupboard, put some solid fence in front of it and added boards to get a good size habitat. I also used the leftover boards to construct a side tract which increases the habitat size, but can also be used to isolate a degu should the need arise (and currently to keep them from escaping while cleaning the cage).

What sounds pretty straightforward was a hell lot of work, usually because I had to do everything at least twice since I was figuring it out as I went along. All boards have floor tiles on them to prevent urine from soaking into the wood and allow for easy cleaning. At the first try the tile glue soaked the wood too much and my boards bent. The second time I didn’t measure the depth in the cupboard, which was already upstairs, but in the extension, not realising that I’d changed width and depth. Now there’s a gap between the boards and the door, which can be dangerous for the degus, so I have now tied old t-shirts on the door to close the gap. And that’s just one of the many things that went wrong, but now it’s more or less finished and I’m pretty proud of it.I still have to make a running wheel for them, but that’s a project for next week.

Here’s the part you’ve been waiting for: the Degus

I still don’t have very good pics, also not of all of them. They are still very shy and mostly try to hide, though there are already differences noticeable. First, meet Candy. Of course I have an earworm ever since the little one announced the name, and now you have, too.

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Candy is the bold one. She was the first to leave the pet carrier and explore the new habitat. Whenever there’s a disturbance that sends them off hiding (which currently is still mostly “us existing in proximity”) she’s the first to re-emerge and get back to whatever she’d been doing. She also already escaped once and it was quite some work to catch her, especially since we didn’t want to scare or hurt her by grabbing her. Finally we managed to shoo her unto a towel where I then lifted the sides. Once they are accustomed to us they’ll be allowed to run in the room for some time each day, but until they are comfortable with us they need to stay in the habitat.

Here’s Estelle

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She’s loud. When we fixed the shirts to the cage door she kept yelling at us. She’s also very shy and mostly snuggles with Katja. Which was our first clue on how to tell them apart. Also Estelle’s light marks around the eyes are a bit larger than Candy’s. Katja (no pics yet) is easier to tell apart (at least at the moment), because she is still smaller than the other two. As you can imagine, I’m quite in love with them. I think Caine would have loved them, too, they’re obviously her kind of people.

Jack’s Walk

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September

The golden-rod is yellow;
The corn is turning brown;
The trees in apple orchards
With fruit are bending down.
The gentian’s bluest fringes
Are curling in the sun;
In dusty pods the milkweed
Its hidden silk has spun.
The sedges flaunt their harvest,
In every meadow nook;
And asters by the brook-side
Make asters in the brook.
From dewy lanes at morning
The grapes’ sweet odors rise;
At noon the roads all flutter
With yellow butterflies.
By all these lovely tokens
September days are here,
With summer’s best of weather,
And autumn’s best of cheer.
But none of all this beauty
Which floods the earth and air
Is unto me the secret
Which makes September fair.
T’is a thing which I remember;
To name it thrills me yet:
One day of one September
I never can forget.

Helen Hunt Jackson

Jack’s Walk

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The Monarch butterflies have started their migration to California and Mexico, and in the last few weeks, Jack and I have seen quite a few of them. The journey is quite an undertaking, and no individual butterfly makes the entire round trip. According to Migration Joint Venture, it requires 4 generations to complete the cycle. Whereas during the summer months, the Monarchs live for 2 to 6 weeks, when they migrate, they can live up to 9 months. Once the migration begins, the butterflies enter diapause (do not reproduce) as they head south to overwintering grounds where they have never been. They will never see this home again. I think it’s a fascinating and poignant life cycle, and I’m always well pleased when I see one of these small, beautiful creatures that traverse the continent on instinct.

Jack’s Walk

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Jack and I went to the park this morning, and we found the place overrun with Canada Geese. There was a flotilla in the pond and another regiment lining its banks, and all through the park, they covered the grass, doing a slow nibble-walk and poop without looking up. There were more of them in the round-about crossing from one side to another in an even slower, flappy-footed, silly-walk that stopped traffic in all directions. Jack was mesmerized by them. He sat quietly at my side and watched the parade, and after the last goose had passed us by, he took a hop-step forward and let loose a small, happy woof and laughed. “That was great fun. When’s the next show?”

Here There Be Hares

from Avalus,

more photos from my way to and from work, this time it is all about hares. They languish in the fields in the morning and the evening.  They are also clearly uncomfortable about people stopping to take pictures from 20 m away. With their brown fur, they are pretty hard to spot if they don’t move.

Hare 1 ©Avalus, all rights reserved

Hare 2 ©Avalus, all rights reserved

And for comparisons sake a rabbit. Note the much smaller ears.

Fun fact: In German the ears of hares and rabbits are called “Löffel” which means spoons.

Rabbit ©Avalus, all rights reserved

Where in the World are Voyager and Jack

Bubba takes a dip in the murky creek ©voyager, all rights reserved

Here we are, at home like most people during the pandemic, but it’s been a tough summer for Jack. He hasn’t coped well with the heat, and many days he was only up for short walks down the street very early in the morning or late at night. Usually, we spend the summer on the east coast where it is cooler and Jack can swim every day. These humid and hot Ontario summers don’t agree with him. Or me.

Also, the past few weeks have been very busy for me. I’ve been organizing my pantry (a cupboard in the basement) and my freezer (also in the basement – I’m up and down as often as a new bride’s nightie) in preparation for the second wave, which is already starting slowly. The Globe and Mail said this morning that our curve is no longer flattening and are blaming “pandemic fatigue.” Great, just as our public schools are due to open next week. They are combining on-line learning with in-class and are staggering school days. One half goes Monday, Tuesday and the other half Wednesday to Friday, then switch back and forth. Masks are mandatory at all times. It’s a plan, but none of the teachers I talk to are feeling confident, and neither is the public. So, I’m putting us in lock-down until the end of October and possibly longer than that. Mr. V has a bad heart, so we can’t afford to take chances. I have until the end of this week to double-check the plan and shop for any gaps. After that, I won’t be going out except to the mailbox and to walk Jack. Socially distant visits with friends will be outdoors only.

The good news is that it’s cooler and Jack can get out every day. Some days, he still wants only a short walk, and now that he’s 12, I don’t push him. On those days, we take 3 or 4 shorter walks just to the end of the street and back, and he seems content. Most days, though, Jack still likes a bit of adventure, and in the cooler weather, he can make it all the way around his favourite trail in the woods. That’s the Fairy Woods, which brings me to a piece of news. Jack’s Walk will now be only Jack’s Walk. Any fairy stories that find us will be posted under a new title – Tails in the Wee Woods. With that change, we’ve decided to go back to posting Monday to Friday. We’ve had a lovely break, but it’s time to get things back to normal.

This labour day, I’d like to send a good word out to Giliell, who is back to school in these uncertain times. Stay safe, my friend. That message goes out to the rest of you, too. Stay safely vigilant and don’t give in to “pandemic fatigue.” Here at Jack’s Walk, it will always be a safe place to come and take a deep breath.

Swan Swam Over the Lake

The pond we often visit for walks/Pokémon hunting used to have a swan couple. they were kind of the mascots of the village, featuring on signs, they were looked after and taken in during winter, but last year the unthinkable happened: a swan divorce! One of them left and the other one soon vanished (died?), so for the last year there were no swans. Now they got a new swan family, complete with cygnets.

©Giliell, all rights reserved

©Giliell, all rights reserved

BTW, shortly before I took these from a safe distance, a lady let her baby(!) up to one metre to the swans. But guess whom she would have blamed if the baby had gotten eaten…

Jack’s Walk

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Oh my! It’s been almost a week since Jack’s party, and I’m still feeling a bit of a hazy buzz. The bumblebees have mostly left my head, though, and Jack was right; my memory is clearing. It still feels more like a dream than a memory, but Jack tells me that fairy magic is like that, and he assures me that it was all quite real.

Let me begin at the beginning.
I awoke early on party day, full of excitement and anticipation. Jack lay gently snoring at my feet, so I slipped out of bed as softly as I could, trying not to wake him. I schlumped into the kitchen and made coffee, drinking it while I prepared our picnic. First into my basket went the things

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Apple had asked me to bring; plump black cherries and sweet, red strawberries. Then I added a heap of ripe purple blueberries, the little peanut butter cookies that I’d made the night before, a few milk bones, napkins, water and my camera. (I am the family pack-mule) By the time I was organized, Jack was awake and had padded out to the kitchen. He sat staring at his empty bowl, so I took the hint and fed him, and then went to do my morning ablutions and get dressed.
When Jack had finished eating, he joined me, asking, “Are we having a picnic today, Mummy?”
“You bet, Bubba. It’s a beautiful day, and I thought we could go to the fairy woods.”
Jack’s face lit up, and he said, “That’s a fabulous idea, Mummy.”
“I know,” I said as I headed to the door, “Lets, go, Bubbs.”

The day was fresh and bright, just as Apple had predicted. The high heat and humidity had blown away overnight, leaving behind perfect summer weather. The day was bright and sunny, and the air was warm with a gentle fresh breeze. Small white clouds shape-shifted lazily across a cornflower blue sky as we drove through the countryside.

There were no other cars in the parking lot, and it didn’t take us long to get on the trail. Jack was in high spirits, but after a few minutes, he said to me, “None of the fairies have come to see us, Mummy. I hope everything is alright.”
“I’m sure everything is fine, Bubba. Maybe they’re busy with chores. ”
As we neared the first bench, I saw it first… a sign pinned to a tree that said Welcome, King Jackson Brown & Voyager. I pointed it out to Jack, who looked at it for a few moments and finally said, “That’s odd. Why would the fairies make a sign for us?”
Before I had a chance to reply, the air lit up with fairies flying in from all directions, each calling out “Surprise, Jack!”
Jack looked confused for a moment, but he finally smiled and began to hop, trying to touch the fairies with his nose as they fluttered around him.
A few of the younger ones settled on his back and ran their wee fingers through his thick chestnut brown coat, making Jack laugh. There were dozens of them, all wearing shimmery dresses made from a rainbow of bright, colourful flowers. The dust of their trails mixed and mingled until the air resembled a luminous living landscape by Monet. Where the sunlight pierced the trees in dappled patches, the colours shone like stained glass. I sneezed a few times, and the fairies found this hilarious. Their laughter surrounded us as we rounded the corner to the first bench,
where Jack and I both gasped at the wondrous sight. The forest had been transformed. A small clearing had been made, and the area was dressed for a party.

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The trees were festooned with curls of bright ribbon, and the ground was strewn with flower petals and glittering sprinkles that winked and sparkled and in the shifting light. A bright copper wire with teeny tiny lights wound through the leaves of a shrub, and words of thanks and friendship had been clipped to it. There were itty-bitty picnic tables covered with brightly dotted,

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light cotton cloths and round tables that resembled plant stands fitted with glistening watercoloured tops. Around these tables were bright blue stools with colourful covers that matched the shiny tabletops. More of these stools had been set off to one side, nestled into a patch of ferns. There was an intoxicating scent of mingling flowers in the air, and the happy chattering of the fairies filled the clearing and became like music to my ears. My senses were overcome. It was a pandemonium of fairies, and Jack was utterly delighted to be at the centre of it. His eyes shone like polished amber, and he radiated happiness.

I could feel another sneeze coming on, so I moved away from the brouhaha to the human-sized bench and sat my basket down. I reached in and took out the fruit and cookies that I’d brought, and the moment I set them down, a pair of elves appeared as if by magic and carried them away!

After a few minutes, an elegant fairy named Whistler flew out of the commotion and up a tree. He clapped his hand twice and harrumphed until the forest was quiet. Then with a theatrical flair, he banged a small gong three times and said, “Hello, hello. Welcome, Jack and Voyager. Today’s party is held in your honour, as a small thanks for your service to the fairy realm. When our beloved Oma Troutchen went missing we placed our trust in you, and to our great delight, you brought Oma home quickly and safely. We are thankful and hope you both enjoy yourselves.”
Then he banged the gong again and said, “Let the party begin.”

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Jack’s Walk

 

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Oh My! Jack and I are still exhausted from yesterday’s party. It was a fabulous day, filled with happy surprises, but today both of us are bleary-eyed and bushed. Jack says that fairie dust can muddle you up and make you sleepy, and that’s exactly how I feel – muddled and ready for another nap.

“Don’t worry, Mummy. The forgetting will go away soon.”

“Will the bumblebees in my head also go away?”

“Silly, mummy. Of course, they will. Are they bothering you?”

“Not really. I’m starting to like the way they tickle when they dance.” I reached over to Jack and wiggled my fingers into the thick pile of his ruff and started to scratch. Jack tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

“Jack, will I be able to remember your special day, or will it fade away with the fairie dust?”

He put his head down and laughed,

“Mummy! That’s a silly question. Of course, you’ll be able to remember. When the fairie dust fades, it will all make sense. I promise.” he wiggled closer to me and said, “Until then, I think we should just cuddle and close our eyes.”

“Alright, Jack, that sounds perfect. Hopefully, tomorrow I’ll be able to process all the vivid party vignettes in my head into a narrative. Maybe the bees can help.

 

Project Degus: Houses

As I mentioned on TNET, we’re getting pets. More specifically, we’re getting degus. We did all our learning and deciding whether degus will make good pet for the little one, and then we went into the planning phase. Degus are day active and very active, so they need space, but holy fuck, those cages are expensive. Luckily, my grandma’s old kitchen was still up so we took that.

First of all: WORKSPACE!!!

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Look at it. A counter and cupboards and drawers. I still need to put up a shelf or two, power outlets that are not just extension cords and light. I also need to think about ventilation, because the window you can see is only about 20cm high. I basically grew up in that kitchen and I never noticed that all the drawers have different widths. Matching that kitchen is a high cupboard that we’ll turn into the degu home, but before that transformation can start, we’ll prepare some other things that they need, mostly huts.

Degus are rodents, which means they’ll gnaw everything, which is why the German word for rodents in “gnaw animals”, so stuff has to either withstand their teeth or be constantly replaced. For the huts I decided to do both: light plywood houses that will need replacement and terracotta pot houses that will last a while, so the little one and I went to the DIY store. While I was pushing 75 bucks worth of material she happily chattered how making your own things isn’t just so much more fun, but also so much cheaper… Now, she is right in general, but I had to explain that it doesn’t exactly come cheap.

OK, back to the houses… For the wood ones the standard house is an ugly box, and like most commercially available pet supplies way too small, so I designed them to be a more like hobbit houses and of course large enough, so I first cut out all my pieces on my brand new bandsaw. I didn’t know how much I needed a bandsaw before I had one. Sure, I thought, it would be nice to have one, and a small one is only around 100 bucks, so I treated myself when my contract got renewed. Holy shit, I’m in love. It’s so easy to saw things. Not just the plywood, which is to be expected, but also resin pieces that usually are such a pain in the ass. So I cut out all the pieces for two hoses and then the little one got to sand the edges.

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Next I glued pieces of a square bar to the front and back, let it dry and then glued on the sides.

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This is actually the backside. You can see there’s a second exit in the back, which is something many commercial rodent houses are also missing. This is an absolute must because two degus might get into the same house and one may decide it doesn’t want to share. And while degus do fight, they mostly prefer just to leave. Having just one exit means that a degu may be trapped with another one. Having two means that the second one can just leave.

Next step we carefully glued strips to to the roof, which was a bit fiddly, but not too hard. Ta-daaa, degu/rodent house version 1:

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