Women

Another woman missing tonight, according to the evening news. She was last seen two days ago,arguing with her boyfriend.

It seems to me there have been a lot of missing and murdered women making the news around here for several months now. One had dementia and was found frozen to death. One owns a farm and was last seen with a handy man who'd been recently fired. A woman and her children shot and then left in a burning house.

Six months ago it was horribly abused and neglected children making the news; many of the children died a day or so after being rescued. And of course neighbors come out of the woodwork and claim they knew the abuse was going on, and that they had repeatedly reported it, but no action was ever taken or social services would investigate and determine all was well. What the hell are our social services doing?

My mother lives in a small town, and she told me one afternoon about two little girls who lived with their parents in a trailer a few blocks away from my mom. The little girls were not allowed to wear panties. A local church, knowing how poor the family was, gave the girls several new dresses, which the parents immediately took back to the store and got the money for. Presumably to buy drugs -- according to the grape vine.

I called state social services and said I suspected the girls were being sexually abused, that not allowing a girl to wear panties is not what you'd call healthy and normal. And you know what I was told? That no investigation could happen because it might be a religious belief to not wear underwear. The incident of returning the dresses was explained as the parents' right and since I had not seen any drug use or purchase the agency had nothing to go on.

From what I understand, the father was arrested for drug abuse a few months later. This was about a year ago, and my mother has no idea what happened to the wife and girls. Or the father.

My mom's been in the hospital about fifty miles away since Thursday morning with suspected pneumonia that turned out to not be pneumonia but is probably bronchitis and/or a severe sinus infection. She's on heavy duty antibiotics, steroids, and some kind of breathing treatments, which she hates. She's always been nervous and talks a lot, but the steroids have her talking non-stop. I've called her several times a day and she just talks and talks and talks; I doubt she's heard a word I've said. Today I drove down there and stayed with her a couple of hours today and I don't think she was quiet for a total of five minutes. She's pretty much lost her voice to congestion today, so it was doubly hard to listen to her talk, talk, talk, with her voice gone. I kind of felt sorry for the nurses and aides who happened to stop in -- it's hard to get away when she gets started. She had some true crime program on the TV, which she wasn't watching, and she got four phone calls while I was there. She's not allowed any sugar because of the steroids so she's frantic for a coke or candy bar, which no one will give her. I brought her a bag of sugar-free chocolate-covered mints but I don't think she liked them. Poor thing. The doctor says she'll be fine, but they don't plan to let her go home until Monday or Tuesday.

I've been thrilled with Obama until he made an ass of himself yesterday during a cabinet meeting. Bragging that he'd won the election and implying everyone has to do what he says. That's not very bipartisan and I was very disappointed. I hope he doesn't turn into an ego-maniacal monster.

Charli took a hunk out of my thumb tonight. I was putting her back in her cage and I guess she didn't want to go. She'd been out for about an hour, diligently chewing up a book (one that she's allowed to chew up), and then discovering a five-dollar bill and a one-dollar bill on the table. She left chew marks in both of them, and we fought over who was going to keep the bills. I had remembered to put up my change since Charli enjoys picking up coins and dropping them on the floor (they make such a nice sound, you understand), so we didn't have to fight over loose change.

It was 57 degrees yesterday, dropped to 27 last night, and got all the way back up to 32 today. Probably snow tonight. Tomorrow the chorus is scheduled to sing the national anthem for the opening of a women's basketball game. I got my nerve up and volunteered to sing in a small group at our winter concert. I do not have a solo-type of voice, but I really like this song and the director relegated it to a small group.

Well, I guess I've complained enough. It's depressing to keep hearing about missing or murdered women and abused children, so maybe Saturday Night Live will not be a repeat tonight and I can go to bed with a grin on my face instead of a furrowed brow.

Nice cold Sunday afternoon. Just a touch of snow.

Yesterday I had breakfast with the woman who was my best friend back in junior high (no, we didn't have middle school back in the Dark Ages). She showed me pictures of her six grandchildren and caught me up on forty years of her history. Then I caught her up on forty years of my history. She and I work for the same university medical center, but that place is so huge we would have never met.

When we were hanging out together, we'd go up into her room on the top floor, which had a window that looked out onto a busy city street. We'd open that window and sing Beatle songs as loud as we could to all the people passing by. And we'd serenade adults when we were walking on the sidewalks.

I talked to her a lot about the all-women's chorus I'm in yesterday and tried to convince her she'll have as much fun as we used to have. But I don't think she'll even consider it.

I went to our ten year high school reunion, and remember looking for her but not finding her. Then I never heard from a reunion committee again. Turns out she has never heard of any reunion at all -- until last week she just happened to get an e-mail from an old friend who mentioned our 40th reunion. I tell you what, they really need to do some marketing work! We agreed to go and give 'em hell.

Then I bit the bullet and went to several big box stores to buy a flat screen TV. My old television was over 20 years ago -- so old that even the new converter box would need an accessory to work. It was 19 inch so I didn't want to go smaller than that, and I didn't want to pay more than $200.

Ha! I ended up getting a 19 inch with DVD player at Best Buy. It was marked $329 and after I begged and asked and threatened, he brought down the price to $299.

I spent several hours last night setting everything up. I already have a combo DVD/VCR so that took some figuring out. At the store I kept thinking I had two separate components -- a DVD player and a VCR. When I got home and realized it was a combo I realized I didn't need the DVD player on the TV and should probably take it back and get a bigger screen. But the store is in Mall Hell South, and I don't feel like dismantling it, packing it, driving out there, and then starting all over. The TV still needed my old antenna since reception is very bad in my neighborhood. No, I don't have cable and have no plans to ever get cable. Then I settled in and watched some TV. The screen really is 19 inches (you measure diagonally), but it's wider than my old TV and not as tall. But the picture is very nice and I'm glad I don't have to worry about all that conversion stuff next month.

The Evil Person at work is still causing problems. So I'm going to Employee Relations this week to start the process. It'll be on file in case I have to file a grievance (or sue). Of course, I don't pretend that Employee Relations will actually say or do anything to help me -- they work for the university, not the employees. But it'll be on record.

I was off about 10 days between Christmas and New Year's -- and I was so happy and rested. And productive -- I got a ton of little stuff done so I don't have to worry about it anymore. Now I get to worry about tons of new little stuff. I could get so much done if only I didn't have to work.

That reminds me -- I need to check my lottery tickets!

Unfortunately, I only practiced piano once while I was off, and only practiced songs for the upcoming concert once. My piano teacher, O, reassigned all three pieces again until I get it right.

Flash's follow-up visit showed the place on his foot is smaller and about ready to scab over and fall off. We still don't know what caused it. The vet said the enzyme levels that indicate tissue damage were very, very high. So I agreed to have them tested again -- just to be sure (plus I'm sure the clinic needs the money!). It came back perfectly.

Sugar has perched herself on my left shoulder, the better to poop down the front of my shirt and stand closer to my ear when she decides it needs to be bitten. Charli is in some kind of trance on my right, chewing up my Little Black Book of Sudoku (I've already done all the puzzles except for the dreadfully hard ones, so its okay for her to chew on it).

Now I'm going to go get some lunch. I've been waiting until the church crowds thin out a little, but I'm hungry and am not going to wait any longer.

Endings and Beginnings

(Picture is Sugar Franklin spreading her wings -- she was really mad at me when I took this picture. The other cockatiels are Flash and Nicholas.)

The end of another year! I really hadn't thought about things until I was reading my favorite blogs -- all of which talked about what had or had not occurred during the year.

So here's my take on 2008

Continued to work and deal with all manner of BS at work.

Continued to love and slave for my four babies.

Lost a couple of people who were important to me.

Celebrated my mom's 79th birthday.

Continued working on getting a union going where I work.

No major illnesses or accidents.

Made a couple of new friends.

Didn't come to the end of any friendships.

Had almost all my clothes pooped on.

Came back to continue this blog.

Started SuperiorParrot.com.

Became addicted to numerous blogs.

Wrote numerous articles, some of which I actually got paid for.

Continued having fun with the women's chorus.

Helped some people with their parrot behavior problems.

More stuff I'll think of later.

Goals for 2009

Write more articles (and get paid for them)

Continue to love and slave for my four babies.

Find some legal beneficial way to deal with the Evil Person at work.

Transfer to a better job.

Maybe actually keep the backyard up.

Get the driveway paved.

Read more books (rather than listening to them on tape)

Make more new friends.

Continue working for unionization.

Continue singing in the women's chorus.

Help more people with their parrot behavior problems.

Take more pictures of my babies!

Origin and Evolution of Birds

I can barely wade through the technical stuff in this article, but it's interesting if you've ever wondered just how long parrots have been around.

What Parrots Tell us About the Origin and Evolution of Birds

My Little Flash

Flash, the little cockatiel pushed on me at a bird fair by a rather unscrupulous breeder, doesn't like me much. He'd rather die than allow me to pet his head or touch him -- unless he needs transportation across the room.

That's okay; I love him anyway.

I took him in for his annual well-bird exam, and the vet found a little spot on the hock of his right foot. It looks like a little scab from a burn, but it isn't on the part of the foot he uses or sits on. He has a heated perch but the temperature is so low I don't see how he could have burned himself on it or how he could have sat on the perch in such a position to injure that part of the foot, and temperature of the perch is different from the base to the tip so he has total control over where he stands. And he doesn't use the heated perch much. I've never seen him favor his foot or show any sign of discomfort at all.

Anyway, we don't know what it is. The vet told me to watch it and if it didn't look better in a few weeks, come back in. Then the blood work came back, and the vet said there was an increase in some kind of enzyme that denotes tissue damage. She thinks it's probably from the place on his foot, but I have to take him back in a couple of weeks to be sure.

Naturally, Flash isn't what you'd call willing to let me look at his foot, but I persist. Usually I can sneak a look at the place by twisting my head and looking kind of upside down at it without touching him (it's visible from the back when he's in a normal stance), but sometimes I have to pick him up. And then give him an extra treat for the "trauma" of it all. I feel guilty because I didn't know he'd hurt himself, and because I don't know what caused it.

Flash has a crooked beak, which makes his little face look off-center, as you can see in the picture. It doesn't affect his eating at all. I don't care -- I'd love him if he had two crooked beaks.