jmgoyder

wings and things

Dec 5

WWE for pheasants

by jmgoyder

From the age of nine to the age of thirteen, Son was absolutely crazy about wrestling. We even flew across the country to Adelaide to see a match once (which he reckons was one of the highlights of his childhood!)

As you may recall, I began this blog with a story about my two golden pheasant males, Phoenix 1 and Phoenix 2, fighting over a female, with Phoenix 2 being exiled and our 80-year-old neighbour ringing up to say he was there.

Well, the saga has continued. First of all, the neighbour arranged, via a wildlife officer, for Phoenix 2 to be returned to us, but Phoenix 1 immediately banished him again and he was back at the neighbour’s house before she even got home (a 2-kilometre flight I might add). So she and I decided that she may as well keep him and she was rather thrilled, so everyone was happy.

Then, a couple of weeks later, she rang to say he seemed to have disappeared which was upsetting for both of us until another neighbour informed us that he was at their place and had attached himself to their mulberry tree. So they, too, caught him and brought him back here but, even though the female pheasant had long since disappeared (can you blame her?), Phoenix 1 once again chased his brother away.

The irony is that Phoenix 1 is now a very lonely pheasant and whimpers outside the back door constantly, whereas Phoenix 2 is happily gorging on mulberries less than a kilometre away. I really miss Phoenix 2 but what can I do? I refuse to aviary the birds, because I want them to have the freedom of choice, but I do hope he goes back to the 80-year-old neighbour’s place because she really loved him.

One thing for sure: I am not getting any more female pheasants! I’m sure you will understand if you look at these pictures of the battle below; it was terrible, it was awesome and it was a hell of a lot more dramatic than any WWE match I’ve seen.

The peace-loving peacocks tried to intervene; well, we all did, but to no avail.

Wings

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Dec 5

The eagle owl

by jmgoyder

Have a look at this clip of an eagle owl flying towards a camera at 1000 frames per second.

It is WONDERFUL!

http://www.dogwork.com/owfo8/

PS. Just after posting this, I decided to watch the clip again. Unfortunately I had Buttons, the weiro, on my shoulder and she couldn’t take her eyes off the screen. The poor thing got such a shock, all her chirps have been swallowed up by terror!

Wings

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Dec 4

Why did I clip his wings?

by jmgoyder

I don’t know why.

I don’t clip the birds’ wings, despite the risks.

And, now that his wings have grown back, he wants to fly away as far as possible because he is sick of this rancid nest, plus I keep forgetting to feed him his mealworms!

He will forgive me I hope.

I will never clip his wings again.

Wings

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Dec 4

What’s that on your shoulder?

by jmgoyder

Birds seem to like perching on human shoulders. This photo of Woodroffe (gosling) was taken just before he scrambled up to my shoulder and pooped. Unlike the ducklings, he did this silently, so it wasn’t until I went to the local shop and bumped into a friend who said, “what’s that on your shoulder?” that I realised I had a rather large mound of greenish substance on my collar and leaking into my neck (I thought I was just sweating; well, it was a hot morning).

You do know, don’t you (no, you probably don’t, and that’s okay) that you can now purchase nappies/diapers for poultry. And, yes, when Woody was little, I contemplated nappying him with the lovely pink and white chook nappies I had bought online.

Why? That is a very good question.  I suppose, initially, having read about imprinting (the details of which I will save for another post), I thought Woody might turn into the second child I never had – don’t worry, I didn’t want a second child anyway.

The nappies weren’t terribly complicated, although there did seem to be a lot of safety pins, and the instruction sheet, which consisted of a diagramatic series of steps, was a little difficult to de-code for a novice. So I gave up and decided to put Woody back outside with the rest of the gang. I think he was relieved; I know I was.

If, a few months ago, someone told me that they had a pet chook/goose/duck who lived in the house with them I would have been intrigued and, yes, amused. I would have thought this someone and his/her ‘pet’ were both extremely weird and I would probably have decided to gradually ease away from my friendship with this someone.

Now, however, I do ‘get it’, but I just don’t want to do it because, unless the chook/goose/duck wants to come into the house, I don’t see any point when they are all happy outside anyway.

Apparently, unlike dogs and cats, you cannot house-train poultry because they have no control over their sphincters. You see, I have done my research here!

Woody didn’t like that nappy idea anyway and I don’t blame him. I think he thought it was all a bit peculiar. I do hope he didn’t tell the others!

Anyway, chook nappies aside, I have now exchanged my white shirts for green ones at the local second-hand shop. I had washed them first, of course, but unfortunately the shoulder stains were still there. I’m not quite sure why, but the woman who served me didn’t want to know the details.

Wings

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Dec 4

Flying into the wind

by jmgoyder

Lately, because it is the pre-summer season of the easterly winds, I have been fascinated to watch the wild birds here (many of them very tiny breeds) fly into, or against, the wind. Sometimes it looks as if they are simply standing still, high up in the air, fixed into the sky, surreal. Then, all of a sudden, they will sort of dive down, or arrow up, defying the wind and landing in the trees, trembling and triumphant.

When I was six, I wrote my first song and I still remember the tune, although I don’t remember the lyrics beyond line 2. It went like this:

My little bird flies in the sky

He’s never afraid of the wind

Of course I soon became famous (NOT!)

Anyway, I remember singing it to my parents and their pride in my trilling was reward enough. I also remember my little brothers grimacing. Brother 1 (four years old) was already very good at mockery, and Brother 2 (two years old) just seemed bemused; I think he was too busy stuffing a whole banana into his mouth, something he was very good at.

If Son were to know that, in my heart, he is that little bird, he would probably throw up [please let him have unsubscribed by now!] but I quite like testing the limits of his love-endurance, and my own sentimentality makes us all laugh!

However, I do like the idea, in that second line of my childhood song, about not being afraid of the wind. There is always wind and there is always fear, but one of the things I most admire about Son is his ability to ‘fly’ against and into the wind despite the risks involved in not quite conforming, of not allowing himself to become a 17-year-old caricature of a 17-year-old caricature.

So this is my new song:

Caught in a sliver of moment

A half grin

A near wink

The camera brings his soul into his face before he escapes….

Country boy

Gentleman

Renegade

Party animal

My son

Flying into the wind….

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Wings

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Dec 4

Put a feather in your cap!

by jmgoyder
English: A single white feather closeup. Deuts...
Image via Wikipedia

Did you know that people actually buy feathers?

I only discovered this by accident when I was googling something and I ended up seeing a couple of ads on e-bay. People were selling feathers at $3 each, or else wanting feathers. I thought this was extremely strange until I realised that the people wanting feathers were milliners (you know, hat makers).

Well, I have been collecting some of the feathers that the birds regularly shed anyway, and these now fill several vases; I have peacock feathers, golden pheasant feathers, white peacock feathers, guinnea fowl feathers, even chook feathers (I don’t think these are quite so popular!)

I actually find the feathering of our lawns almost as irritating as the poo. For example, when I let ‘the gang’ out of their yards in the morning and they sprint and stumble after me to the breakfast spot, they shed so many of their under-feathers (mostly white and fluffy), that it looks like it’s been snowing!

By the way, it doesn’t snow in Western Australia.

I can’t believe it; just as I am writing this, one of those horrible easterly winds has swooped in and, whammo, the lawn is once again featherless. I hope I haven’t just lost a potential feather fortune.

Put a feather in your cap and, if you don’t have a feather, I can sell you one for $3!

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Wings

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Dec 3

Feed the birds, tuppence a bag

by jmgoyder

If you are 50-ish, like I am, you will remember this song, this movie, this era.

If you are younger, then you are in for a treat… I hope!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_VwU_oS2ErQ

Wings

2 Comments »
Dec 3

A wing and a prayer

by jmgoyder

Hi all

I just accidentally restored a post I thought I’d deleted so I guess it’s out there now. I actually just wanted to see what I wrote and if I embarrassed myself. Yes, I think I did! Oh well.

As a novice blogger, I have appreciated the comments and interest in my blog. One of the things I’m finding it hardest to do is to restrain myself from posting more than once a day so, despite the wise advice of a more experienced blogger to keep it as a once-a-day thing, I have another friend who says ‘go ahead and post away – the more the better’. It is good to be caught between these two opposing viewpoints.

This blog was never intended as some sort of outlet and I don’t like the idea that I might have given this impression when all I wanted to do was talk about the birds. However, some of the supportive comments I’ve received indicate that my ‘between-the-lines’ stuff has somehow hit the empathy button. I really don’t want any more of these comments please; I’m not fond of empathy unless I am doing it myself – hehe!

Tonight, Son confronted Husband with the fact that we need some respite from his Parkinson’s disease and he didn’t do this gently. So now I am about to go and pick up the pieces of my broken husband, tuck him in, then have a long talk with Son about the fact that Husband himself needs some respite from his Parkinson’s disease which is on-a-wing-and-a-prayer impossible.

Juliex

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Wings

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Dec 3

Slapstick comedy

by jmgoyder

The first time I saw Godfrey trip over his own feet, I pretended not to notice because he did (I kid you not!) seem quite embarrassed. I mean he fell flat on his face, then picked himself up and shook himself, hissed at me as if to say, ‘you better not tell anyone about this!’ then struck his usual pose of upright arrogance.

It has been quite interesting to observe how clumsy the other geese are too. In their hurry, they often trip over their huge feet, fall over, pick themselves up, trip again etc. The ducks are much more agile so, whenever a goose trips over, the ducks watch with great interest – and disdain. Hilarious!

This picture is of Godfrey just before he fell onto his face. I know this is going to sound awful but I did have a bit of a ‘haha!’ moment before he picked himself up.

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Wings

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Dec 2

Smell the roses, peck the dust, fly through the window

by jmgoyder

This is an interlude-ish post because, as a newcomer to blogging, I feel a little stupid, a little ‘unwise’, a little frantic.

Sometimes the wild birds around here – wrens, pigeons, doves, crows, kookaburras, willywagtails, butcher birds – crash into our windows, fall to the ground, then pick themselves up and fly into the closest tree.

I have never forgotten how a kookaburra flew through a window into the kitchen, then out the back door. The window, by the way, was closed, and the impact shattered it.  I remember screaming with shock and fright and the poor kookaburra must have been terrified until it made its escape.

Too-muchness is what happens when you are over-engulfed with feelings, thoughts and words that might be better kept to yourself. The realm of the blog, however, allows you to indulge yourself because, to some extent, you have a captive audience.

WordPress is amazing, but it is also a bit incestuous; i.e, you like my blog, I like yours and vice versa. I have only clicked ‘like’ when I have liked and I have only commented when I wanted to. The statistical information has been gratifying but also confusing and probably misleading; certainly it is distracting!

This is my third post for today which, apparently, is not the done thing, but I cannot seem to stop writing, having written nothing substantial for many years. I have taken the advice of more experienced bloggers and decided to just post one story per day from now on – well, maybe two!

 

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