Showing posts with label I like birds but I can't stand children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label I like birds but I can't stand children. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Hot content

Finally, after nearly five years, I realise that I've been doing this whole blogging thing wrong.

Unlike, as I learn via the New York Times, one Heather Armstrong:
Her site brings in an estimated $30,000 to $50,000 a month or more — and that’s not even counting the revenue from her two books, healthy speaking fees and the contracts she signed to promote Verizon and appear on HGTV. She won’t confirm her income (“We’re a privately held company and don’t reveal our financials”). But the sales rep for Federated Media, the agency that sells ads for Dooce, calls Armstrong “one of our most successful bloggers,” then notes a few beats later in our conversation that “our most successful bloggers can gross $1 million.”

Wow, outstanding, how do they manage that?

By talking about poop and spit up. And stomach viruses and washing-machine repairs. And home design, and high-strung dogs, and reality television, and sewer-line disasters, and chiropractor visits. And countless other banalities of one mother’s eclectic life that, for some reason, hundreds of thousands of strangers tune in, regularly, to read.

This suggests that, should we want to be more successful with this whole new media thingy, we should, as Oprah might put it, 'share a bit more of ourselves'.

Of course, there's a definite shortage of 'poop and spit up' in our four walls about which to opine.

Though, I have to say, keeping things that way definitely seems worth 30-40 grand a month.

Possibly more.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Bird of the Day

Although, as you might know, there is a great love for the Common Redstart (Phoenicurus phoenicurus) in this here household, we are of course aware that there's plenty of other sweet birds in the skies around Château Pudding. Like for instance Aegithalos caudatus, aka the Long-tailed Tit:

Via.

Now just imagine a whole posse of these cute little snowballs (with tails) frolicking in amidst the bare branches of a wild rose bush, like the ones I saw this morning when out running.

Coming home I did a little pre-weekend research and decided that the long-tailed tit was even sweeter than I had imagined. They're not only very sociable animals, who tend to muck about in flocks of around 20 or so individuals. It also seems that they have their collective life sorted out quite splendidly.

For instance, this marvellous species has an admirable albeit complicated sleep ritual (depending on whether it's winter or summer), involving (in the cold months) mutual preening, pseudo courtship rituals and collective cuddling. This is from the German Wikipedia entry (which I can't be asked to translate):

Innerhalb der Winterschwärme wird auch gemeinsam in eng aneinander geschmiegten Schlafgesellschaften geschlafen, was eine größere Widerstandsfähigkeit gegen besonders niedrige Temperaturen ermöglicht. Die Schlafplätze liegen meist in dichtem Gebüsch in 1–10 m Höhe. Der Schlafplatz wird gezielt angeflogen und die Individuen des Schwarms sammeln sich in der Nähe des Schlafzweiges. Dann wird in einer ritualisierten Handlung ähnlich der Balz die Individualdistanz überwunden. Zwei Individuen lassen sich auf dem Schlafzweig nieder und rutschen hin und her. Nach dem Zusammenrücken schauen sie voneinander weg und putzen sich. Dann fliegen weitere Individuen in die Mitte. Die Bildung der Reihe, in der die Ranghöchsten in der Mitte sitzen, erfolgt unter leisem Zwitschern. Bisweilen wird der Vorgang durch noch aggressive Individuen gestört und wird von neuem begonnen. Er dauert daher meist bis zu 30 Minuten. Die Schwänze der aufgereihten Vögel zeigen am Ende in unterschiedliche Richtungen, manchmal wird auch eine Kugel mit nach außen gerichteten Schwänzen gebildet. Am Morgen wird die Versammlung ohne weitere Zeremonie aufgelöst.
As John would say: "Now that's civilisation."

They're also extremely capable architects:

Via.