The Law

Spent over half an hour on hold yesterday trying to speak to an IRS agent, to find out why I haven't received my incentive check. I'm so not looking forward to calling again.

Got a summons today for jury duty. I don't mind jury duty that much; I really do think it's my responsibility as a citizen. Old-fashioned, I know.

And, of course, spent nearly half an hour on the phone with GoDaddy this morning. Perhaps I should just move there.

The Evil Committee began its down-hill slide yesterday; some things got done incorrectly and there was confusion so we left early. I haven't figured out a way to smuggle whiskey into the meeting room, though. Which is probably for the best.

Sugar Franklin was perkier than usual yesterday, running back and forth in her cage until I brought her out where she proceeded to run back and forth on the coffee table and on me.

I love the way parrots (and I guess other pets) just assume possession of a human's body. Charli will move from the back of the couch by hopping onto my shoulder (without asking, of course) and then scoot herself to my chest so that she's in perfect position to be scritched and then to take a nap. Like I was put on earth to meet her needs and wishes, and that I wouldn't dare move lest I inconvenience her. My parrots have claimed my shoulders, my back, my knees, my chest, and my lap, and sometimes my feet -- though my feet are loudly proclaimed by Sugar Franklin to be Evil and in dire need of hissing at.

What I wouldn't give to know what they think.

No Good Deed

I went out for an early supper and when I got home two women were sitting on the porch next door; one looked like a teen-ager, the other in her late twenties. From what I could tell the guy had not yet come home from the hospital nor had the woman with the two babies returned. There were no cars in the drive or in front of the house.

I asked how things were, and the women said their dad was okay. Hmmm, he didn't look old enough to be these women's father, but I'm a terrible judge of age.

The older one asked to use my phone so I said, "No long distance, right" She shook her head and made her call. She talked for about five minutes then gave me back the phone. I checked the number and sure enough -- it was out of our area code. I went across the yard and said she'd have to pay for the call, that I don't have free long distance. She looked astonished and said she'd only called her sister. I repeated that it was long distance. Then she said she only talked for a minute. Like that took care of everything.

sigh . . .

I said I'd bring the bill over when it arrived and would expect to be paid then.

Yeah, right, like I'll ever get a dime out of her.

O, my piano teacher, is also a rental agent for this neighborhood. She happened to mention a few months ago that she'd signed up a nice young quiet woman with a baby to rent the house next to me. I nodded and said they'd all been moving in the weekend before.

"They?"

"Yeah, she's young and he's maybe in this 30s or 40s and some other guy."

"No," she said. "This was a young blond woman with a baby."

"Nope," I responded. "These people are black and I haven't seen a baby." I don't care who lives next door to me as long as they're quiet, don't throw trash in my yard, and aren't making meth or holding sex slavery auctions. In the years I've lived here I can't count the number of folks who've moved in and out of the rental houses on either side of me.

I could tell O was confused by who I said was living there, but I haven't mentioned it to her since, and I don't know what she did about it. Or if she did anything about it. There's also been a woman who faintly seems Asian coming and going who's always got her hair wrapped in a towel as if she'd just gotten out of the shower. And lots of other friends who come and go.

Well, I won't lend my phone to any of them again.

It's been a nice day today. Beautiful weather, though maybe 10 degrees too hot for me. I had the cockatiels out for a couple of hours, watching their busy goings and comings. Then I had Charli out for a couple of hours and scritched her head for most of that time.

Tomorrow starts the work week, then I have to get serious about getting myself ready to go to Vermont week after next. I've already made arrangements for L to bird sit for me, so I've got to get the keys to her soon.

I wish I could stay home from work like my birds and have someone scritch my head.

Update: Someone rang my doorbell twice at 11:30 pm, but I was too tired to get up. And this morning there's yet another out-of-state car in their driveway.

Hey -- I'm the nosey neighbor; it's my job to look as I drive off.

Rental Property

Instead of taking a nap yesterday afternoon I decided to get my hair cut. I informed the birds of my intention and opened the front door.

To find an EMS truck, complete with flashing lights, blocking my driveway. I walked out to the porch just as the paramedics brought out a stretcher from next door, carrying the young man who lives there. Well, I assume he lives there -- he's there a lot but then so are a lot of other people. It's a rental house so I never know.

Anyway, the paramedics loaded him into the truck and climbed in after him. And then nothing. I, based on my vast knowledge of EMS and ER activities based on my extensive reading of medical blogs, knew they were probably getting vitals and starting an IV.

I noticed the storm door had been propped open, so I went over and closed it then went back to my porch. A few minutes later the wife/girlfriend/young woman came hurrying out, carrying two babies in carriers. I didn't realize there was anyone else inside; otherwise I wouldn't have bothered the storm door. She got them settled in just as one of their friends drove up. She called to the friend and they talked for awhile.

And still the EMS truck didn't move. I wasn't in a hurry so it didn't matter to me how long they parked there.

Finally the truck pulled out. I waited until it was well on its way off my street, then started my car and backed out. The friend was getting back into his car, so I rolled down the window and asked if everything was okay. (duh) He said yes, his friend couldn't move his hip and the paramedics wouldn't let him enter the truck to see his friend.

So I guess it's official now -- I'm the nosey neighbor.

Birds and Mother and Saturday

I swear, I wouldn't recommend GoDaddy to my worst enemy. I've transferred my domain names from them to a new provider and GoDaddy won't let go of them. My sites are not showing up because "transfer is denied," because it's "registered," it's "private," I need to log onto this and click that and then log in over here and click that other button. This has been going on all damn week. So if you tried to access my blog and couldn't, it's because GoDaddy wouldn't release the domain name.

The other situation with GoDaddy is so convoluted it would take me months to explain it due to the impossible happening for three friggin' years. I'll have another site set up later. Even the most advanced tech person I know said it was "possible but highly unlikely," which from him means "impossible." sigh . . . .

I've been on the phone almost all morning to powweb.com, trying to get through to tech support and then trying to make myself understood by the folks in India.

Sugar Franklin was declared okay -- Thursday's gram stain only showed one little yeast thing, so she's okay. I put her water bottle back in place, and I suspect she's glad to taste "normal" water again.

My physical therapist is from South Africa, which explains her accent. We talked for a few minutes about apartheid; she said she and her family left in the mid-80s because of apartheid (she's white and didn't want her family living in that kind of environment). She said it's all open now except that there are no jobs any more for whites, and that Indian women get first pick as doctors. I think it's fascinating to talk to someone who lived there during apartheid, but we didn't have time and I don't exactly know her well.

She did some ultrasound on my shoulder then I did some arm rotations on a machine like a bicycle, then she gave me more exercises to do. Because of vacations I won't see her again until mid-August. My shoulder didn't feel good after the session like last week.

My mom came to town today (she lives about 60 miles away) and I took her out to lunch. She makes beautiful, award-winning quilts, and she wanted to go to one of the fabric stores here. She seemed a bit more calm today, thank goodness.

Charli bit me last night. I had her out for over two hours, giving her scritches, letting her nap on my chest, and even letting her chew up safe things on the coffee table. And then the phone rang.

Charli cannot abide the phone or for me to use it. I've learned to either put her down or hold her far away from me when I have to answer the phone, and that's always worked. But last night she bit my hand several times and wouldn't let go. I had to shake her off, which wasn't good for either of us. It was a terrible way to end such a nice time we had had, and I feel awful about it. I got her in her cage and gave her a good lecture then ran ice cold water over my hand to stop the bleeding. I gave her some more scritches later in the evening to show I forgave her; this morning she's fine and back to her normal sweet self.

I think I deserve a nap.

Good News

I took Sugar Franklin in for her follow-up on the yeast thing. I should know soon.

While I was there I asked Dr. Z if she knew about my deceased friend's birds. It turns out that my ex-friend (who took the birds in) did not give one of the birds to the woman who mistreats her birds! And that she wouldn't even consider doing so. I cannot express how relieved I am. It was incomprehensible to me that my ex-friend would do such a thing, but people change and I haven't talked to her in over a year. But the birds are safe!

My friend J called late last night and left a message. His brown-headed parrot had bitten his hand several times and I could tell he needed to talk about behavior issues. The bird is 3 years old and has never bitten him before.

I chatted with him via e-mail today. From what I can make out, the bird was doing the skirt dance and J interrupted her a bit too abruptly. And took her to the cage when she wasn't ready to go. I think. It's impossible to know for sure. Anyway, I told him it's important for the bird to feel it has some control over its environment, that next time ask her to step up and if she refuses, go away and do something else for a few minutes. Then ask again; the odds are good the bird will be more than happy to step up because it will be her choice. And that he must watch her body language at all times -- 99.99 percent of the time a parrot will warn you when it's going to bite.

People who own parrots must be insane. I know I am.