Sena’s daffodil and crocus are coming up in the garden, so I took 3 snapshots, each with a different camera: my iPhone 17 pro; a Canon point and shoot; and a Nikon D3400. Pick which one you think is best and comment.
Happy Easter!



We both heard a barred owl last night. This was a line of thunderstorms rolled through the area. Sena thought it was in the front yard, but there are no trees out there and it’s more likely it was in the back yard.
I searched my photo files and couldn’t find one of a barred owl, although I remarked on seeing one about 11 years ago. It was on top of a street sign and I found an old blog post about it that I wrote about on the same day. I’ll repost it below.
I found a YouTube of a barred owl making typical calls. It might have been calling for a mate. Most articles will point out that this sounds like “Who cooks for you?”
I did a google search about barred owls. When a barred owl visits you, it could mean you’re in a transition in your life. About the time I saw it in 2015, I was a couple of years away from entering the phased retirement transition of my career as a consultation-liaison psychiatrist at University of Iowa Health Care.
I’ve been retired for six years now. I wonder why a barred owl would be visiting now?
Barred Owl Visit Post 2015:
So, the other day as my wife and I were out driving we saw this owl sitting on top of a street sign on the intersection not far from our house.
He looked straight at me. I remember thinking, “Where were you when the voles were gorging on our lawn?”
I’ve never seen an owl up that close, especially roosting on a street sign at a crossroads. Of course, it got me to musing on the crossroads in which we often find ourselves at different times in our careers and at pivotal moments in our lives.
There are big and little stages, the minor and major crossroads we navigate every day and at other transitions: childhood, adolescence, college, medical school, residency, graduation, marriage, divorce, and the birth of children, the death of parents, retirement, and our own approaching death.
Recently I got a funny and thought-provoking essay about this from a former resident who is now an attending herself staffing a psychiatry consultation service at a big university hospital in Cleveland. The title of Dr. Jeanne Lackamp’s perspective article is “The Stages of Consultation-Liaison Psychiatry.” In it she describes the stages, the crossroads if you will, of the psychiatric resident in a large general hospital from the perspective of an experienced teacher [1].
I was going to say she does it with the wisdom of a wise owl, but then I thought of the owl sitting on the street sign, whose wisdom I doubted. The owl’s eyesight is keen but there was nothing but concrete on the roads leading away from its perch.
There aren’t any voles out there.
Anyway, short excerpts (which I hope are considered fair use) from Dr. Lackamp’s stages are:
Anticipation: “As though hypomanic, you will eagerly accept the CL challenge….” This is it—Your Big Chance.”
Initiation: “Coping with patient death will become real…and will make you feel sad.” You will wonder how you can possibly do multiple months of this.”
Mastery: “Cockiness may backfire…errors still occur.” “…you feel confident that No One Else could have done better given the circumstances.” “This feeling lasts; until it does not.”
Anger: “Anger will manifest in several ways…” “…it will be tempting to start second-guessing your life choice of going into medicine in general, and Psychiatry in specific.” “Sleep will be rare now too…”
Acceptance: “…you will know what you are doing—but more importantly you will realize that what you know is not everything. “…you will know that you have endured something intense and were changed by it.”
I thought of this as I listened to one of our current senior residents talk about her approaching crossroads. She’ll be a consulting psychiatrist at a private hospital.
She’s excited about it and also wanted to know that her old teacher (which is me, the wise old owl) will be available for collaboration if she needs it.
I suddenly have this craving for voles.
Reference:
Hey, we played our first game on our brand-new jumbo cribbage board from Michaud Toys in Canada! It looks great! The numbers are easy to see and it seems easier to peg on.
We also got two new batteries for our Nikon camera and it supports recording an entire game which keeps us from fretting over how much time we play while filming.
You might notice we used what we call a “short cut” in counting runs when scoring hands. See this nifty article on how to do that!
This is not an April Fools joke, just to let you know. I just returned the second of two SD memory cards for our Nikon camera this morning. I returned the first one about a week ago. I got refunds. These cards are expensive and can set you back a hundred bucks or more.
They both had the same problem—a loose locking switch on the card which is supposed to control whether the card is in a locked or unlocked position. If it’s locked, it’s impossible to upload photos and video from the camera to your computer.
The two SD cards were made by different companies, so the problem is not restricted to a specific manufacturer.
The sales staff said he’d never heard of the problem. I was incredulous. I looked on the web for evidence that this has been going on for years (which I told him). I found a page dated 2006 about the issue.
While it’s possible to accidentally push the switch from unlocked to locked, it shouldn’t do that just by sticking the card in the SD memory card reader in the computer tower or in a handy external SD card reader if the slot on the tower goes dead—which happened to me a couple of years ago (see my post “The SD Card Caper”).
The switch is very small, as you can see in the pictures. In the pictures, the switch is shown in the unlocked position. If it slides into the locked position, you won’t be able to download your pictures except by copying them. It’s annoying to be unable to delete them. This could be embarrassing if somebody gets a hold of the card and decides to post the pictures of you and a certain somebody in a compromising position at the office Christmas party in the company newsletter.



People talk about gluing or using scotch tape to keep the switch in the unlocked position. It can be a problem on older cards, but it shouldn’t happen in brand new cards.
I could have made this an April Fool’s post by making up a story about trying to use superglue to fix a loose SD card switch. But people talk seriously about doing things like that. OK, maybe not superglue, but some kind of glue, possibly Elmer’s.
There might be a way to get around the crazy switch technology by somehow making an SD card that could converse with its owner. Remember those old 1980s era Chrysler New Yorkers that had a built in Electric Voice Alert (EVA) system which made the cars talk? Of course you don’t. That was in the 1980s. We had one. Our car was prone to saying things that sounded a lot like a dad jokes, like “A door is ajar.” It also said “Don’t forget your keys” and “Your washer fluid is low.”
But if the manufacturers could make the SD card communicate with you in simple language about locking and unlocking itself, it would make the gadgets a lot easier to manage. On the other hand, they would need to work on the Artificial Intelligence (AI) to make sure you and the card are on the same page.

Hal; unlock the card.

Don’t forget your keys.

Darn it! No, Hal; unlock the card!

When is a door not a door? When it is ajar! Har! (sound of hand slapping a knee).

Unlock the card, Hal, PLEASE!

Your libido is low.

OK, Hal, last time; I want you to unlock the card now!

Place the body in the trunk of the car.
On second thought, maybe you should try scotch tape.