Now, I’ve seen a number of YouTube videos lately that show clouds of hummingbirds fighting over nectar. Usually this nectar is in multiple red feeders all hung from the same frame. Usually I call AI-BS on this, because it doesn’t match the reality I see in my backyard.

But I can’t say that TheCornellLab is lying. What they show here is closer to what I’ve seen out of my windows this past week.

Usually we’ll get ten hummingbirds, but they do not sit politely and sip. They fight. They swoop and fight and on occasion one tiny bird gets to take a sip.

The birds behave better when they dine at the arbor — now that the hyacinth bean has finally blossomed. I suppose they get crazed by the sugar water. I’d imagine that sugar water is cocaine, while flower nectar is coffee candy. One is going to help you migrate across the Gulf of Mexico and one is not.

It has been nice seeing hummingbirds every single day, though. Gary reports that they are so used to him that they hover in front of his face and wait for him to add more exprensive bottled refrigerated nectar.

(I know, it’s just sugar water, we could make it ourselves, but maybe this stuff from the bird store does have cocaine in it.)

This week the glasses went from this:

…to this:

Recently – was it this year? Last year? – after I realized the binoculars put the moon in ideal focus, I focused our good binoculars on every full moon.

Gary priced telescopes. I wanted a telescope where there was a dial and you spun the dial to “Jupiter” and the gears would hum and ta-da, there would be Jupiter! In perfect focus. I think my laziness repelled Gary. I did not end up getting a telescope.

Now I’ve discovered that a few miles away from me there is an astronomy park.

Seriously, it’s a park, with cement pads fitted with electricity where people can hook up their telescopes, and there is also an enormous telescope in a shelter just for public use.

I mean, I am sure the enormous telescope doesn’t have the Jupiter dial. And it’s probably so complicated I won’t even know where to put my eyeball. But still, they have gatherings every clear Friday night. I did buy a red-light flashlight (so I don’t pollute the extra darkness) and I think I’ll head out there Friday and see if I can spot a Jupiter dial telescope.

Well, sadly, the Up series* is coming to an end.

*If you are unfamiliar with the long-running series (like 63 years long-running): it re-visits a group of British schoolchildren every seven years. Go here to Wikipedia, or here to see how much Mom and I enjoyed it.

They consider the quote, “Give me a child until he is seven and I will give you the man.” Supposedly, seven is the year children develop logic and cause-and-effect thinking. Which, I suppose, is the reason they now say if a trauma hits you when you are seven, the coping strategy that makes you feel safe sticks with you for life. (This is something I heard on the radio but I can find no source for it.)

Anyway, I suppose they feared we’d have to watch each of these kids die off or become senile, so they’ve decided that 70 will be the last installment of the Up Series, especially now that the director has died.

Except, again, as I say, Tony, who will be the last to die and will die in the saddle of a very fast racehorse.

If all goes well with the Chicago trip I’ll be staying at this robot-bidding Alexa-enabled science-themed EMC2 hotel.

The focal point of my room is the glass-encased shower.

That link was a nice interactive 3-D map of the room, with this nice detail:

And of course the robots, which look more like paper shredders and less like robots.

I have twelve wigs. I know that seems excessive for a four-year endeavor. But I need a wig for work, one for high heat (eating next to a fire / blowing molten glass), one for water (rain / water balloon fights), one for lying on my back (doctor visits and … no, just doctor visits).

Add in Labor Day sales and I got the itch for the first time in almost a year.

This is the first page that came up.

”When did they hire robot models?” I wondered. “They all look scary. Except for that woman in the lower right.”

Ranked by level of creepiness points:

0 pts. Bottom right. I have seen his photo before. Normal.

1 pts. Top middle. Her eye-smile doesn’t match her mouth-smile.

4 pts. Top right. Okay, sure, she looks way too perfect, but she at least looks human.

5 pts. Bottom left. I feel like this isn’t an image of a human being. It looks assembled.

10 pts. Top left. That looks like a perfectly good photo of a pretty human that the alien overlords behind this have deliberately distorted. Orherwise why are her eyes so big yet expressionless? What did they do to her?

15 pts. Bottom middle. That’s a mean spy robot the aliens have created. That’s not a human.

The creepiness hit me so hard I thought I was having some Oliver Sacks Capgras delusion thing Then I supposed it could be some AI sweetening.

Is it just me? Is that unnatural?

An utterly lovely woman at work with a wholesome natural style heard I was intrigued by this Polishey system for nail polish.

”I am intrigued by this thing where you draw the polish on your nails with something that seems like a marker,” I said, and she had actually just bought it, and her family had joined in to give her manicures.

I knew that wouldn’t be happening, but the cool girl had it so I needed it for my own.

I suspect I haven’t worn nail polish in six years, except maybe one time on my toes per Spunky’s demands.

Anyway, it came and I love it.

That’s a bad photo. But it was remarkably easy, and when it got nicked I just scribbled over it. I thought it would be tricky to do my right hand by drawing with my left, but I just used my left to hold the pen steady, and then moved my right hand around under it.

Anyway, Polishey, seems good so far.