#meg langslow

[living400lbs]

"You’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead.”

“But you’re not obliged to lie about them, either,” I said.

From Dashing Through The Snowbirds by Donna Andrews

[mrv3000]

My favorite pun-loving book series has a new book coming out this summer and LOL!

[living400lbs]

“That strange woman who looks like a refugee from Haight-Ashbury running around ordering people to move their tents and waving herbs at people.”

“That would be my cousin, Rose Noire,” I said. “And if you’re not fond of the herbs, you might want to avoid drinking any tea she tries to serve you.”

“And that creepy little Goth girl trailing after those destructive little brats like the wicked witch chasing Hansel and Gretel!”

“That’s our babysitter,” I said. “And if the brats are trying to destroy anything and she doesn’t intervene, let Michael or me know and we’ll deal with it.” Sherry seemed unembarrassed at having called my children brats.

“We’re here on an important mission!” she exclaimed. “But how can you expect people to take us seriously when so many of us are complete flakes!” She threw up her hands in dismay.

“Now, now,” Caroline began. But Sherry clearly wasn’t in the mood to be now-nowed. She took a deep breath, smoothed down the sheets of paper on her clipboard, which might have been knocked ever so slightly askew when she threw up her hands, and strode off.

“They also serve who only stand and keep accurate records,” I murmured.

- from The Good, The Bad, And The Emus by Donna Andrews

[living400lbs]

Discussing cuckoos and other obligate brood parasites:

“Speaking of obligate brood parasites,” he began. We hadn’t been, but I knew it would make him cranky if I pointed that out. “Do you want to know the most fascinating thing about them?” Grandfather asked.

I sensed that answering “no” wouldn’t be good for family harmony so I put on my polite face. “What’s that?” I asked.

“You’d think the host birds would figure out what was happening and retaliate, wouldn’t you? Break the unfamiliar eggs. Kill the alien fledglings, or at least evict them from the nest.”

“Do the host birds even notice?” I asked. “I mean, the term ‘bird brain’ does apply here.”

“Well, in some cases it’s hard for them to notice. Over time, the cuckoo, for example, has evolved to lay eggs that are remarkably similar to the host birds’. Meadow buntings lay white eggs with black speckles, so the cuckoos that prey on them lay white eggs with black speckles. The streaked laughing thrush lays a pale blue egg, and so does the cuckoo that targets them. Ornithologists sometimes have to use genetic markers to tell the eggs apart. Really a fascinating adaptation!”

“I’m starting to get the idea that cuckoos are really creepy birds,” I said.

“They’re positively diabolical.” From Grandfather’s tone, I got the feeling he rather admired the cuckoos’ ingenious if underhanded tactics. dangerous....“And there’s a growing body of research that suggests both cuckoos and cowbirds engage in retaliatory mafia behavior.”

“Retaliatory mafia behavior?” [...]

“It seems that after laying their eggs, the parasite birds hang around to observe the behavior of the host birds,” Grandfather explained. “If the host birds destroy the cuckoo’s eggs, the cuckoo will come back and destroy the hosts’ eggs. Once the eggs hatch, if the host birds kill or evict the fledglings, the cuckoos retaliate by killing the hosts’ fledglings. Same with cowbirds. So detecting and expelling intruder eggs actually has a negative effect on the host birds’ ability to pass on their genes. Because of the cuckoo or cowbird predation, host birds who try to get rid of the intruders raise fifty to sixty percent fewer of their own offspring.”

“So instead of being too stupid to tell their own eggs from a cuckoo’s, the host birds are actually smart enough to realize that the cuckoos have them over a barrel, and the safest thing to do is suck it up and raise the alien offspring.”

“Precisely!”

“If that’s true,” I said, “then cuckoos are quite possibly the creepiest birds on the planet. They make vultures seem cuddly. And what’s this ‘host bird’ nonsense, anyway? Let’s call it what it is—they’re victims!”

- from Lark! The Herald Angel Sing by Donna Andrews

[verityreadsbooks]

Out This Week: Meg Langslow 39

It’s the first week of August which apparently means that it’s new Meg Langslow day – and this time it’s book 39 with the amazing punny title of Probably Caws. In great news for long-time fans, this one sees Meg back at some blacksmithing when she’s called in to help with a huge influx of horses at Ragnar’s estate after a horse rescue organisation lost its premises and of course murder ensues. I…

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[living400lbs]

In a fictional small Virginia college town

"Several years ago, after much debate, the town council had agreed to rechristen the half-dozen streets in town that carried the names of Confederate luminaries—but they hadn’t yet agreed on what the new names would be. Eventually, [Mayor] Randall had sent two of his workmen around with buckets of paint to give the streets in question provisional new names. In addition to the Beauregard to Beau change, Jeb Stuart Street had become Stuart Street easily enough, and Forrest Lane—named after Nathan Bedford Forrest—had only taken a small stroke of the paint brush to become Forest Lane. Jefferson Davis Avenue had become Davis Avenue, since we already had a Jefferson Street. Robert E. Lee Street had become L Street, which was no doubt highly confusing to tourists who expected to find K and M Streets nearby. The only real problem had arisen when the two workmen nearly came to blows over how to modify Stonewall Jackson Street. They finally agreed to disagree, which was why all the signs along the northern side of the road in question identified it as Stone Street, while across the way on the southern side it had become Jackson Street. People eventually got used to it. Locals knew where they were going anyway, and luckily it wasn’t a street most tourists would ever need to find."

- from The Gift of The Magpie by Donna Andrews

[kit-campbell]

It's Christmas Mystery Time

Hey ho, squiders, how are you doing? Wait, hold on. December books: Still 2/4 (in the middle of two, read a volume of manga) We’ve talked the past few weeks how December is traditionally a hard time for me to get any writing done. We may get there yet–I’m making good progress on Christmas (almost all the cards have gone out, most of the presents are bought) so I may get some brain power back…

[living400lbs]

"Out at the zoo, I used my all-access security card to park in the staff parking lot and let us in through a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. Being what the zoo staff called the 'designated sane person' —the person they called when they needed help talking Grandfather out of something dangerous or impractical—had its benefits."

- from Between A Flock and A Hard Place by Donna Andrews