Fern, the Hahns Macaw and Time

Well, I'll be darned. It's worked. In the past I have tried to upload photos to the blog and have had no luck at all. Time outs, sullen refusals,' no speaka da inglis' - so much so that I gave up. The moon must be in the right quarter (waning) for here is Fern in all her pink glory sitting on the fence. Despite the appearance of that little cleft in her chest she is not overweight (not like some galah I could mention, mmmm Marvin?). It's a trick of the light for although she cannot fly (broken right wing, you can see it hangs strangely, broken at the joint), she is an active little thing and keeps her girlish figure.

Fern was the first galah who came to live with us. She was a young adult, not a juvenile and she taught me an awful lot about birds and galahs in particular. She took a long time to convince that we were actually on her side and wouldn't hurt her. Had her in a cocky cage set up in the dining area. I tempted her with sunflower seeds on a wooden spoon. Eventually she came around and although she is very opinionated and will nip without hesitation to show her displeasure, she is also very affectionate. It is only in the past year that I have been able, sometimes, to touch her anywhere but her head. I'm not sure but I think she's lived with us for about 9 years.

When we sit in our chairs with our respective drinks in the late afternoon after the chores we allow all the galahs out of the aviaries to have a pick and an explore. Marvin always bustles over first to have a preening session. Because he is so aggressive to the other birds he has to live in an aviary by himself. His aviary is right next to the 'girls' (although Obama is male, the only male living with the girls, we call it the girls, perhaps because he was the last addition) so he can see them. But he has no one to preen him. When he's had enough he asks to be put down on the ground and then, if Fern is nearby, she lifts her skirts and runs toward me. It's not that she's so anxious to see me, Fern is just a sprinter in spirit. She is the fastest galah on foot I've ever seen - and it does look as though she lifts her skirts (wings) so that they won't impede her while she gallops. The others just run without any rearranging of wings.

I have finished the Hahn's macaw and will try to get a picture of it up here tomorrow. I have it in the office with me now. It's at the stage that while it is *finished* I have to live with it awhile to see if any bits stand out as unfinished, overdone or incorrect. So far so good. Although it is a drawing from a picture and not something out of my head, I am well pleased with it. It has taught me alot about looking. I have a new appreciation for the feathering of my own birds and see them in a new more informed light.

Because I retire in 9 months I have been thinking about forming good retirement habits. It's been many years since I haven't worked. I have fallen into the trap of defining myself by my job and have worried a little about the bruising to my ego when I can no longer say I am a vet nurse. Ridiculous I know but there it is. There were times in my life when I didn't work and the days were filled with creativity. I painted and wrote and never seemed to waste time as I seem to now. Using free time well takes discipline. I could fritter it away with frothy busy-ness or use it constructively. Sometimes I get a sense of the fragility of life. It is a miracle that I'm alive, even for this brief butterfly wing beat of life. How many billions of people have lived before me who no longer draw breath? With a few rare exceptions they are forgotten, dust motes in a sunbeam. And I will join them. If there is something after death will I remember this life and berate myself for having taken it so lightly? Acting as though I would live forever and have all the time in the world? It is patently obvious I won't. Obvious now that I'm on the downward track. I suppose it's a part of aging that you think about time running out. Seems that almost every day R has another story about someone he knows ill or dying or dead. Our peers are starting to drop.

It was Odd

The night before last, in that relaxed moment between leaving sleep permanently behind and swinging one's legs over the side of the bed to start the day I had an odd experience. Out of rhythm with my breathing, but as though I was breathing, my body was swelling and deflating - not so extremely as those words suggest but as though I was breathing. The chest expands and subsides with the inhalation and exhalation of the breath. Except I was breathing at a different rate than this strange phenomenon.

I was fully awake for I got up shortly after. But I held still just to experience this weird occurrence. It didn't hurt, it wasn't conscious, it wasn't even frightening, just odd.

The Moroccan House

There is a house, a magnificent breath-taking house for sale near the coast. I've been looking at houses and properties for about two years because we don't know whether the quarry is in or out. It is before the Environmental and Planning Court but hasn't been heard yet. Because I don't want to live here if a quarry begins, with the accompanying traffic, noise and destruction, I've searched for another place to live. And I look at houses that are completely out of our price range. Why? Well, who knows, we might win the lottery. Stranger things have happened.

So, while R sleeps and the morning chores are finished I got online to check the weather (raining) and mail and there, there was this Moroccan inspired house near Lennox Head. Built on a hill (no danger of flooding or beach erosion) on a large block (large enough for the aviaries) and it simply took my breath away. My heart beat faster and I felt this lump in my chest. Oh, I could live in this house (offers over $2 million). It is mysterious and warm, exotic and comfortable, green and red and blue; green tropical foliage, red sandstone and blue ocean and pool.

What a good idea to move the cages. Tachimedes and Cornelius have gone into Corni's cage for breakfast but still want nothing to do with Tach's. I've taken the black sheet off the top of Tach's cage. It's never been a worry before but with the cage up so high it does look somewhat large and ominous looming over the rest of the verandah like some Twilight Zone alien. Have replaced it with a cream sheet which is light and airy and hopefully not so frightening to one tiny little cockatiel.

R is mowing the lawn. We take precautions before R mows as Dimitri has leapt from great heights because of fear. The padding around the tree perch extends out about 4'. Even Dimitri can't leap beyond the padding (I hope!). If he does leap he'll still scare himself but he shouldn't be injured. The other perches are laid down on the ground so that he can't climb them only to jump in panic. Otherwise I'd have to pad the entire verandah and that's just not logical. Couldn't clean it and I'd be doing bird laundry all the time.

Was quite chuffed this morning as Dimitri took the millet with less fuss and far more bravery. One day....

Went to the gym, bought groceries and and winning lotto ticket. How I wish. I know why I don't win. Not because of the odds against it. That's nothing. It's because I am torn between wanting material things and knowing in the scheme of things, ie reality, I don't need them and everything I need I already have. It's guilt. I have so much, why should I expect or ask for more. Where we live is a little piece of paradise. How dare I ask for frosting when I've got cake? Yet I do. There's another part of me that knows there is no want in the world. Having The Moroccan doesn't mean someone else does without. (It also has a studio over the garage, perfect for peace and quiet - painting, yoga and meditation - I love R to bits but it is difficult sometimes to have that little area of my own. He comes looking for me, just to touch base, not because he wants me to do something but...I don't know, he just comes and says hello, hovers a bit sometimes. I need a room of my own (Oh, Virginia how right you were!).

Redecorating the Bird Verandah

Have spent most of the day rearranging the verandah. Yesterday Dimitri managed to climb atop Tachimedes cage. He stayed there all day and all night. It is so high that I didn't dare approach in case he took fright and jumped. He would've surely done himself an injury. Finally I managed to place a wooden ladder on the lip of the entrance and he came down looking for food (I couldn't feed him and he had to be content with budgie seed).

That was it. If he did it once he would do it again so things had to change. I'd been thinking about moving the littlies cages to the opposite end of the verandah anyway as I wouldn't have to pass him on his tree perch to replenish food and water. Today seemed to be the day. Unfortunately R was away and I had a heck of a time getting Tach's huge cage onto the 'art' table (a large, tall table that can be tilted up to support artwork. R built it for me while we were still in Tasmania. It took up practically all of the office and as I am using a portable board for my artwork rather than the table so it has been relegated to the verandah). Anyway, I wound up removing the seed skirt and the wheels (can't have a wheeled object on a table). Then I was confronted with the sharp table legs. How could I get this cage up without scratching everything. Ended up covering them with hankies and rubber bands. A girlie solution but effective. Leaned the cage against the table and pushed, turned it on its side and pushed again - with hip and arm - it was bloody scary as it is so heavy and unwieldy I thought I'd either drop it or have it come crashing down on me. Looking at it now I am amazed I managed to get it there.

But there it is and there it stays. The unfortunate thing is the little birds are befuddled. Where are there homes? They are sleeping rough as neither of them came to the cages for their evening feed and snooze. Tomorrow I'm sure they'll figure it out. Tach had an idea but this tall looming dark thing (half of it is covered in sheet so he feels protected) was just too much for him. Cornelius didn't even try. Corny is on the tree perch ladder and Tach is pressed against the ceiling on the old clothesline. Dimitri was the least upset. While I was trying to coax Tach and Corny into their 'new' homes, he came sidling over looking for treats. Not bad. Actually he took the upheaval quite well. I made sure I moved slowly and backed off if he showed signs of stress yet I think he's starting to realize that he will never be pushed too far by me. Or maybe that's wishful thinking. One incident tonight comes to mind. I pushed the coop cup on the floor, it made a sound, Tach panicked and flew off and Dimitri, in trying to fly off, did a complete flip!

Since writing here Dimitri and I have made tiny advances. I can sit in a chair by the feed table and he'll come and get millet sprigs. At first he'll run to the far end of the table to eat but with each treat he'll move less and less until he's only turning his body. That's a good thing. With the introduction of the chair we had to back up a bit as he was nervous (again) about taking treats from my fingers but we've done that again too so it's all good.

I am working on a pencil sketch of a Hahn's Macaw and am really pleased with its progress. It's probably about 3/4 finished. Some of it, especially the eye and beak, really 'leap' out at the viewer (methinks). I wish I could imagine that and then imagine the detail but frankly I would never be able to draw the feathering, the beak, the eye, the feet without a reference photo. Or real life but just don't think Dimitri (or anyone) would stand still long enough, with the light from the same angle, etc. for me to do it. Still, I have learned and am learning a lot about feathers, beaks, legs etc. and if I can create something from my head in the future (I really don't like copying, it seems such a cop-out) it will come in handy.