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Christie’s Chronicles: A Thanksgiving potpourri

This river otter makes an appearance on a Marquette pond. To me, they’re always a playful sight. (Photo courtesy of Ann Hilton Fisher)

Sometimes you have to be grateful for the little things that don’t go your way. In case you didn’t know, I’m an avid birder who’s often dependent on more avid birders to find rare birds in the area and alert amateurs like me. Recently, a common eider was spotted in the Lower Harbor. The bird is described at allaboutbirds.org as a large, heavyset sea duck that’s larger than a surf scoter and smaller than a snow goose.

If I were a common eider, I might be a little miffed that I was described as heavyset, but maybe I’d be more concerned that I was so out of range.

I tried three times to see the bird, but failed each time. It seemed to appear at the same spot when I was at home.

On the third try, my husband and I were out on a little jaunt and decided to swing by and see it. No luck, but we ventured north on Lakeshore Boulevard just to catch the sights.

As we approached Clark Lambros’ Beach Park, we noticed several people by the side of the road with binoculars or cameras. Could it be the eider, or another unusual find?

We stopped at the beach park, after which I scampered across the road, and asked the woman with a phone camera the identity of the find.

“Otters” was the answer.

Did I hear “eiders”?

No, it was otters.

It was an ornithological failure, but a notable mammalian sight. Several river otters were in pond across from the park, with one otter on the ice for a good visual. I was surprised to see how stout it was — notice I didn’t say heavyset — and watched for a while.

On the way back from Presque Isle, we noticed three otters were in the pond.

So, it was a successful afternoon. A minor disappointment turned into a decent-sized thrill since we don’t see otters every day.

And I managed to not fat-shame them.

__________

Thanksgiving Day came and went. I had to work that day, but my nice husband brought dinner from the local Big Boy for my co-workers and me, and we dined in the interview room.

It was quite the spread, one that I had to split up into lunch and dinner.

It wasn’t the same as spending time with my dad, siblings and other relatives in Chicago, but it was a cozy get-together anyway, and we didn’t talk about politics much.

Pumpkin pie would have to wait for the weekend, but in preparation, I bought some Reddi-Wip. If Reddi-Wip and Cool Whip were made for anything, it’s pumpkin pie — my all-time pie of choice.

I wonder, however, why it’s “wip” and not “whip.”

And since I doubt we will get through the entire container in one sitting, I can embellish a future cup of hot chocolate or cocoa with a dollop.

So, my Thanksgiving that revolved around takeout containers and co-workers instead of a gravy boat and my family was a big success.

Besides, my co-workers are family too.

__________

I’m still missing Digby, my little dog who died recently. Fortunately, we still have Susie Q, a pug whose strange noises never cease to amaze me.

I can’t say for sure if she misses Digby, her not-biological-but-philosophical brother, but she is getting more attention from my husband and me.

Digby was needy, to say the least, so sometimes he became the dominant of the two so I would notice him more. I made sure, though, to give Susiekins lots of belly rubs.

I am heartbroken over the loss of Digby, but am grateful for the presence of Susie Q, who unfortunately is getting up there in age, especially for a pug. She can’t hear anymore and her eyesight is bad, but she likes being picked up and making body contact on the couch.

For this I am truly thankful (except when she fidgets when I’m trying to sleep).

__________

Other things for which I am grateful include a car that still runs, the Chicago Cubs’ 2016 World Series victory, the “Dexter: New Blood” reboot, herbal soap and living close to Lake Superior, although I still have a hard time accepting the fact that when I look toward the take in our front yard, it’s to the east, not the north.

But that’s my problem only, and for that, too, I’m grateful.

EDITOR’S NOTE: Christie Mastric is a staff writer at The Mining Journal. Contact her at cbleck@miningjournal.net.

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