Absences

Since my last post I've been teaching, working on the book, and then taking the Parrot Lovers' Cruise.  When I returned from the cruise I immediately came down with a nasty case of bronchitis that's kept me basically homebound for a week. My mother had repeat surgery on her ear; this time it seems to have been successful -- we hope.  We should know for sure by next Monday.

Tonight I see that little Audrey has died, as well as Brian.  While I was sailing in the Caribbean, Bev's little cockatiel Dylan died, too. 

Ask not for whom the bells toll, Donne told us.  They toll for thee.

Indeed.

Paper Towels and Sentry Duty

Here is a video of Charli ripping up paper towels; her Most Favorite Activity of All Time.  Well, at least for now.

And another one.

She is extremely aggressive about paper lately.



The BobbseyTwins are wonderful, as usual.
Here they are performing Very Valuable Sentry Duty.


People who don't live with happy parrots have no idea what they're missing.

Favorite Toy (of the moment)

This is one of the toys Charli loves -- for the moment.  She's still learning that each one has an almond or two, maybe even a peanut hidden inside. 

The lid is connected to the box by a small, safe chewable bit of wood that keeps the lid from opening completely.  It opens just enough for the parrot to see goodies inside.  The parrot must then chew the safe cardboard to release the treats.  There are no glues or fasteners to worry about. Sometimes this takes hours, with much tossing the box around to get a better chewing surface.  Sometimes she can get the nuts out within a half hour.

She's always very proud of herself when the toy is completely ruined and the treats eaten all up.

Most all parrot owners know how important foraging is for our birds.  I really like this particular toy because it already has an almond or two in it, each one with a tiny hole in it to facilitate breaking open the shell.  There are lots of strands of safe color papers to tear off, and two wooden circles attached with thin suede strips.

This toy is made by Super Bird Creations and is called the Almond Foot Forager.  It is probably available wherever Super Bird Creations toys are sold.

Hoarding

No, I'm not a hoarder, but I frequently watch old reruns of the program on Netflix lest I become absent-minded and allow clutter to take over. 

I have true hoarders on both sides of my family -- my father's side seems to be the worst.  When he died I had to go through his old pick-up truck and an old trailer that was too cluttered to live in any longer.  Frequently he would buy huge lots of items at flea markets and bring them to me -- offerings, gifts.  Items I had no use for, couldn't sell, couldn't give away except to Goodwill.  Occasionally he would bring in some ancient rusted farm implement, despite the fact that I am a city girl, and insist it was useful and that "they" didn't make them any more.

I fight clutter in my life every day.  My dining room table is piled with books and bags of parrot treats, letters and pens.  My laptop is full of unorganized web bookmarks and unfiled e-mail, drafts of poems I'll never finish, drafts of articles and idea I mean to get to soon. My office right now is piled with items I'm putting in a big yard sale I'm having with three other friends later this month -- books, my old tiny refrigerator from my job, housewares I'll never use.

It isn't just physical either.  Emotional clutter is always happy to pop up from time to time -- old beliefs, old patterns of behavior, just waiting to bring havoc in my life.  But I have learned to practice good mental hygiene and can recognize when I need to slow down, get more rest, stand up to whatever belittling belief is threatening to overtake me.

I suppose everyone has a picture of their ideal life -- mine is a clean, clear, peaceful place to write, with everything in my life nice and organized.  For a variety of reasons it's taken me decades to finally have that place, so I don't worry too much if I have to move aside an errant notepad today or some coupons tomorrow. 

But I guess it will continue to be an everyday thing -- this eternal vigilance to keep all my spaces clear.  I'm glad I can do it.

Change

Last night the women's chorus I'm in finished its spring season with a fabulous concert; we've never sounded better.  Unfortunately, it was our director's last concert -- after 11 years he finally decided he wanted his Sunday evenings back.  Our new director is fine, but I don't think anyone will ever be as wonderful as John.

I'm relieved the chorus season is over though.  Those Sunday evening rehearsals are hard and learning the music is time-consuming.  I'll go back in September, of course, because I love it, but now I'm glad to have the extra time.  I'm getting things caught up and getting back on track with my book and other projects.

This morning I finally got my two Earth Boxes planted and set out on my new deck: beefsteak tomatoes, cherry tomatoes, a melon, peppers, roma bush beans, and some broccoli for the birdies.  All organic.  It's nice and hot outside, but we're expecting another big storm later today.  The transplants are droopy, but I'm counting on them perking up by tomorrow.  Next week I'll put up the staking system that comes with one of the boxes, so the beefsteak tomatoes have something to climb on.  I can use plain dowel rods for the other things that need staking.

I spent a few days in Arkansas last week with some people I'd met on the internet.  There were 11 of us, all parrot slaves.  It was nice, and I was glad to meet them in person.

My friend Bev lost one of her two cockatiels a couple of months ago; it was sudden and there was nothing she could have done.  It sounded like a seizure or stroke to me, but I'm not a vet.  Now her other cockatiel just returned home from three days in the hospital; kidney problems and some sort of infection.  She's taking good care of him, but I know how hard and heart-wringing it is to see such a wonderful creature sick.  I've got my fingers crossed for him and her, too.

My backyard is getting overrun with honeysuckle bushes; it's a never-ending battle.  Last week I asked the guy who cuts the grass if he'd come over and just dig the damn things up (as much as possible).  There's also a horrible spread of poison oak that's climbing up two of my trees and onto the side of the neighbor's house.  This morning I looked out the window and noticed that I didn't see any honeysuckle, and that the chair, table, and various pots had been moved next to the deck.  I tried to remember if I'd seen it that way yesterday or the day before, but I've been so busy I couldn't recall.  I wrote the guy to ask when he'd been over, and he said he hadn't (it's rained nearly every day the past two weeks).  So who's been over here, clearing out honeysuckle?  I have good neighbors, but I can't imagine them coming over to do such a thing, especially without me knowing.

Or maybe I'm hallucinating.  Considering all that's been going on this spring, it wouldn't surprise me.