Vic

Our stockings aren't hung, our cards are not done, and we haven't done any baking. The calendar, dear, says Christmas is near, but progress we are not making. That original little ditty sums up the status of our Christmas preparations, or lack thereof. Actually, Vic and I are more focused on our wedding anniversary, which arrives five days before Christmas. This year marks 36 years of living together in bliss and happiness, a real accomplishment in this day and age. Vic and I met in Middletown, Conn.

We're revisiting two old topics this week: the Sea and Sage Audubon Birdathon and Shipley Nature Center's spring fling. First, birdathon. Several weeks ago, we announced that Vic's team had seen 169 species of birds in one day and had come in a close second to Bruce Aird's winning team. If Vic's team had seen only two more species, they would have beaten Bruce's team. Well, it turns out that Bruce's team was better at seeing birds than adding them up. When they retallied their final score, they came up with 168 species.

Vic was busy eluding armed law-enforcement officers this weekend. He was doing the annual Sea and Sage Audubon "birdathon" fundraiser, a seemingly innocent pastime. While he was birding, I stopped by Bolsa Chica to see how an ice-plant removal project was going, then spent the rest of Saturday at Shipley Nature Center's spring festival. We didn't meet up again until dinner Saturday night, when Vic's teammates filled me in on their brushes with the law. On birdathon weekend, Vic and three teammates compete against other teams to see who can count the most bird species within Orange County during a 24-hour period, and which team can raise the most money.

Vic led a birding trip to Big Bear Lake recently for his senior citizen class in bird watching. I was more than happy to go with him because I love the San Bernardino Mountains. We drove up State Route 38 on a beautiful Friday morning, meeting the group at the Oaks Restaurant in Angelus Oaks for an early lunch. If you've never explored the dirt roads around the Angelus Oaks area, you're missing out on a treat. We took a sharp left off the highway at the first pullout beyond the Oaks Restaurant and bounced down the steep grade of Middle Control Road.

VIC LEIPZIG AND LOU MURRAY Vic found some old friends in Huntington Central Park last week. In fact, they are over 100 million years old. That's even older than Dick Clark. OK, the individuals aren't that ancient, but their species is. These "friends" are a grove of very rare and fascinating trees that had previously escaped our eagle eyes. The tree story actually begins with an Internet bulletin board called the Orange County Rare Bird Alert. This list lets subscribers know where to find rare birds that pop up in the county.

NATURAL PERSPECTIVES Most good movies start with an explosion. So did our weekend. Not a recent blast, but one that probably occurred a few years ago. The full effects became apparent only recently. But we're getting ahead of our story. Mother's Day weekend is often a big celebration for both our household and the elder Leipzig family in Northern California. May 11 is the date of Vic's birthday, is father's birthday and one of Vic's five brothers' birthdays.

At this time of year, Vic and I usually head off to snow country. This year, we had a change of pace. We enjoyed a weekend of relaxation in Santa Barbara and Monterey. The trip was short, but we packed it with pleasure. For Saturday evening, I picked the Hotel Oceana Santa Barbara because it was right across the street from the beach. Our vacation getaway really began the moment we stepped into the lovely lobby with fountains burbling around every corner. We coined the term ?ambience therapy?

Vic and I had a great week of agricultural and biological adventures with relatives and friends. Last Tuesday, I took my last large beet to the Orange County Fair to enter in the giant beet contest. Mighty Max wasn't the biggest beet that I've ever grown, but at five pounds, it was respectable. I also entered three radishes that our granddaughter Megan had grown. She had planted the radish seeds as a preschool project. Megan was the only child in her class who still had radishes surviving at the end of two weeks.

This past weekend, Vic led a field trip for his summer birding class to Angelus Oaks along Highway 38. While some of the class opted to drive up Saturday morning to meet at the Oaks Restaurant at 6 am, those of us who like to sleep relatively later in the morning stayed at the rustic Whispering Pines Cabins across the street. Vic's game plan was to lead an owling foray into the hinterlands after dinner Friday night for those who were staying up there. Apparently most of the students had already exper- ienced Vic's legendary late night owling trips, because only one brave woman ?

Taking a group of Orange County Conservation Corps members camping at Caspers Wilderness Park this past weekend turned out to be well worth the time and energy. I'm not sure whether Vic and I have ever had a better time on a weekend camp outing -- or been more worn out afterward. Caspers Park Rangers John Bovee and Donna Krucki are dealing with washed-out and overgrown trails and don't have enough money in the budget to fix them. They were happy to offer free camping in exchange for trail work by an experienced crew.

Vic and I went to Cabo San Lucas in Mexico with our son Scott and his family over the Labor Day weekend. Our three granddaughters and baby Mike constitute an active brood, and Scott and Nicole needed our help baby-wrangling. We stayed at the Hilton Los Cabos, which is actually in the town of San Jose del Cabo, a few miles east of Cabo San Lucas. We spent most of our time in the hotel's beautiful pool. At only four feet deep, it was ideal for the little girls to practice swimming.

Vic and I are really enjoying our new hobby of mothing. And it isn't just about drinking wine with friends while sitting outdoors on a warm summer night. Sometimes actual moths are involved. This past Thursday in Silverado Canyon, there was no wine at all. Just some fascinating moths, beetles, bugs, mantids and even some spiders. You really never know what you're going to get. You set up a blacklight against a white sheet, sit in a folding camp chair and wait to see what comes. I enjoy this new hobby because I like taking photographs of interesting things, and because I'm learning a lot about the world of insects in the process.

Vic and I had a great week of agricultural and biological adventures with relatives and friends. Last Tuesday, I took my last large beet to the Orange County Fair to enter in the giant beet contest. Mighty Max wasn't the biggest beet that I've ever grown, but at five pounds, it was respectable. I also entered three radishes that our granddaughter Megan had grown. She had planted the radish seeds as a preschool project. Megan was the only child in her class who still had radishes surviving at the end of two weeks.

Generally, Vic and I try to avoid flying into the midst of a natural disaster. But sometimes it just happens. If you recall, I was caught in a tornado in April in Tennessee, near Knoxville. Golf ball-sized hail totaled my rental car with hundreds of dents on the hood, fenders and sides, and cracked the windshield. I was terrified, but physically unscathed. By the time Vic arrived the next day, the weather had cleared. We enjoyed delightful weather on the rest of our trip to Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

Our stockings aren't hung, our cards are not done, and we haven't done any baking. The calendar, dear, says Christmas is near, but progress we are not making. That original little ditty sums up the status of our Christmas preparations, or lack thereof. Actually, Vic and I are more focused on our wedding anniversary, which arrives five days before Christmas. This year marks 36 years of living together in bliss and happiness, a real accomplishment in this day and age. Vic and I met in Middletown, Conn.

Vic and I have three chickens but no eggs. Our hens quit laying in late October this year. I've actually had to buy eggs from the store, three dozen so far. The store-bought eggs pale in comparison to our home-grown eggs in flavor, color, and freshness. Part of the problem is that egg production slows down in winter. Another part is that all three of our hens went into molt at about the same time this year. When they are busy losing their feathers and growing new ones, they don't lay. The last part of the problem is that two of our hens are almost middle-aged.

It's been a few weeks since Vic and I updated you on our adventures in keeping chickens. And, yes, there have been developments in that regard. When we last left this story, we had acquired a new barred rock hen to replace the late Henny Penny. Late as in "deceased," not late as in "tardy. " And it was from natural causes. We didn't eat her. Sometime after Henny Penny's demise, her two teammates, Chicken Little and Henrietta, quit laying. Egg production was way down. I was looking forward to eggs from our new young hen, but she ceased laying two days after we got her. We soon learned why. Like Henrietta, she's molting her feathers.

Vic has a saying that every good party ends with a trip to the emergency room. I haven't been able to embrace that philosophy. But if he's right, then we must have had a heck of a party at Mammoth Lakes. But I'm getting ahead of myself. Vic led yet another birding trip recently, this one to Mammoth Lakes for some mountain specialties such as the very hard-to-find white-tailed ptarmigan. Vic and I drove up Thursday, a day ahead of the rest of the group. Crossing the Mojave to get to Lone Pine can be a long, hot, tedious drive.

Vic led a birding trip to Big Bear Lake recently for his senior citizen class in bird watching. I was more than happy to go with him because I love the San Bernardino Mountains. We drove up State Route 38 on a beautiful Friday morning, meeting the group at the Oaks Restaurant in Angelus Oaks for an early lunch. If you've never explored the dirt roads around the Angelus Oaks area, you're missing out on a treat. We took a sharp left off the highway at the first pullout beyond the Oaks Restaurant and bounced down the steep grade of Middle Control Road.