jmgoyder

wings and things

James Bond

As a new photographer, with a new camera, but with no natural skill or training, I waited outside this afternoon for Son to come and show me where the ‘zoom’ button was, because I wanted to get some photos of the blue wrens surrounding me.

While I waited, I fiddled around with the various camera devices, looking desperately for the zoom function while blue wrens danced on my lap, kissed my fingers and finally settled onto my boots (none of which I can prove because, firstly, I’m exaggerating and, secondly, Son didn’t come back out of the house to show me where the stupid zoom button was).

Eventually, as stealthily as James Bond, I crept back into the house to discover that Son was dividing his time between Facebook and sweeping the kitchen floor (yeah, go figure) and not likely to help me for some time. As I was still in spy mode, I decided not to let this bother me, so I simply crept back outside, unnoticed by Son.

The blue wrens had gone so I took my camera up to the nearest paddock and took some photos of the beautiful steers belonging to our neighbours. One of them seemed to like me, which was comforting.

He and I took our first encounter cautiously –  one spy with another – but eventually he revealed his identity and I expressed my awe. And shock!

Look closely at his tag! 007! Imagine my embarrassment at pretending to be him! He was very forgiving though, this very real James Bond!

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Cabbage wisdom

I am very tempted to rename Son ‘Commander’ in this blog (because he is so bloody bossy!) but will refrain from doing so at the moment – well at least until he and I settle our power ratio arrangement. As you can see, for me this presents a bit of a challenge as he has a habit of standing in the sky!

There is another character here who is somewhat commander-ish: the tallest emu. His resemblance to Son is uncanny in so many ways. I admire them both for their courage and skill in not quite conforming. You see, not quite conforming is a clever way of not conforming at all, but still belonging.

This tallest of our emus, for example, doesn’t like cabbage (and, according to all of my research, there is no such thing as an emu who doesn’t like cabbage). I finally tried lettuce with him and he looked at me, condescendingly, as if to say, ‘about time you figured it out.’

Come to think of it, Son doesn’t like cabbage either, but I think that might be quite normal for non-emus!

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Son feeds the birds!

Son and I got home this afternoon from a 5-hour round trip to Perth and back and, despite his disapproval of my ‘bird thing’, Son fed the gang and didn’t mind at all!

‘We should have more moments like this, Mum,’ he said.

Long story short: I know the photos don’t reveal it, but Son has a 75% scoliosis with surgery scheduled for 14 February.

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Alpacas and apostrophes

There are two reasons for the following punctuation missive. The first is because teaching grammar and punctuation at the local university was my speciality, and the second is because, a few posts ago, I replied to a comment with the sentence “It’s the alpaca’s drinking trough” when I was talking about two Alpacas, not one.

I am very embarrassed now about this appalling punctuation error!

The apostrophe is that punctuation mark (like a comma that has had too much coffee, so keeps raising its eyebrow) that indicates either ownership or plurals. For example:

  • Ownership: “The Alpaca’s face was beautiful” (we are talking about one Alpaca here).
  • Plurals: “This is the Alpacas’ drinking trough” OR “This is the Alpacas’s drinking trough” (we are talking about two Alpacas here).

I hope you found this post exhilarating! Here are a few apostrophes to make your day ”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

Okami and Uluru (pictured above) just don’t seem to really care – mmmm!~

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The party

Last night was Son’s 18th birthday PARTY! I didn’t mention it earlier because of my blog’s link to facebook; i.e. we didn’t want gatecrashers. Son and I spent all day manically getting the place ready, then went to visit Husband, then stopped at the local shop to buy a trough to put the ice and drinks in. I had let Son invite as many as he wanted but he kept it down to around 40, thank goodness.

Anyway, it was a resounding success with most of the kids staying the night in tents and swags.

This morning there are around ten kids still here, all sitting around one of the picnic tables out front, drinking copious amounts of water and eating leftover pizza (I over calculated on that one!) And this is only half of the pizza order.

Many of my friends thought I was crazy having that many teenagers all by myself, so I was pretty nervous, but there were no incidents. I solicited the presence of two older males for ‘crowd control’ but no control was needed. Instead they provided me with some adult company because, for some reason, I was overcome by shyness of the youngies and I don’t recall ever having felt so ancient as, for the first time ever, Husband wasn’t here to be the old person – hehe!

Son, dressed up for the occasion, was in heaven, as you can see!

He encouraged his friends to have a dip in the pool, and several had a swim since it was such a hot evening.

Okami and Uluru, the alpacas, decided to hide in the old dairy, then Okami thought the greenhouse might be safer.

Uluru wasn’t sure. He wanted to keep his options open.

The surreal thing about Son’s party is that, 11 months ago, we had one for Husband’s 75th so there was a little bit of deja vu going on in my head.

That was a very hot evening too but, strangely, none of the people at Husband’s party wanted to go for a swim!

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Put it on your God shelf with the soft toys

One of my closest relatives, and my best female friend, has been having macular problems with one of her eyes and, during yesterday’s eye injection (the last of a series – bravest girl I know), she experienced an unexpected searing pain after which something weird happened in her eye.

I was so worried about her but then she sent me this email:

No pain. Stop worrying. Just a black disc hovering (an air bubble evidently). Quite friendly actually. Nice little companion. Gets larger as I lean forward and I can cup it in my hand. Sweet little new friend. Honestly it’s nothing and I’ll miss it when  it goes! I’m going to the movies. I’m perfectly all right. If you keep worrying I won’t tell you stuff. Put it on your God shelf with the soft toys.

Her quirky words have reassured me!

This is a picture of my closest relative/best female friend and her budgie, Algernon. When she first got Algernon (we are not allowed to call him ‘Algae’), he was very nervous and didn’t want to come out of his cage, but gradually he is becoming more comfortable

My muse

My mentor

My mother

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Down the rabbit hole

Yesterday, in the early evening after all the birds were safely in their yards, I decided to take some photos of the rabbits. Oh yes, haven’t I mentioned them before? We have hundreds of rabbits – well, perhaps not quite hundreds, but lots and lots – so many, in fact, that a friend from Perth asked if I was breeding them. No, I am not breeding them; they are doing that extraordinarily well all by themselves.

In other words, we have a rabbit plague.

They are everywhere! At any time of the day or evening, I can look through any window, or go outside, and I will see not just one or two rabbits, but entire families scampering around, here there and everywhere, in amongst the peacocks and guinneas and geese and ducks and chickens and turkeys. The scene resembles something rather heavenly except it is not heavenly because those rabbits are digging up the foundations of every building on the farm – that is five sheds and this house! I keep expecting the house to suddenly tip over. After all, it’s a very old house.

So last evening I sat outside, camera ready and waited. And waited. And waited. And I didn’t see one rabbit – not even a bunny! It was as if, like Alice in Wonderland, I had fallen down a rabbit hole into a fantasy world – this one devoid of rabbits. I wish.

Anyway, I thought I better take a picture of something, so I took one of the feathers on the lawn. In a previous post I mentioned that, with all the birds molting, it looks a bit like it has been snowing. Then I took a picture of King peacock’s final feather. As I said in another previous post he’s been hanging onto that last symbol of his former glory for ages. Now, having shed that final tail feather he will have to wait several months for them to all grow back. Poor guy seems a bit lost now.

I was still waiting for a rabbit or two to appear so I took another couple of photos of feathers that had blown into a blossom tree. I say a blossom tree because I’ve forgotten what kind of tree this is and Husband isn’t here to enlighten me (I’m ashamed to say that after nearly 20 years of marriage and living here, I still don’t know what many of these trees and flowers are!)

Actually, I’m not comfortable with the little white lie I just told about the feathers in the tree. They were in the tree earlier in the day but had blown onto the ground again, so I put them back in the tree to take the photos. Is that false photography? Interesting concept!

I am not, however, white-lying about the rabbits. The weird thing is that I haven’t seen any today either, so far.

Perhaps I’ve magicked them away somehow. On the other hand, the house does feel a little tilted today!

Or maybe I’m just stuck inside a ‘Julie in Wonderland’ rabbit hole.

When I go in to see Husband today, I will ask him what the blossom tree is called. He will know.

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Fixing the moon

Son was less than two years old when Husband had his first bout of illness and had to go to hospital to undergo numerous tests and biopies, all of which produced mysterious results (it wasn’t until later that kidney cancer was diagnosed).

During one of our visits to the hospital, Son experienced his first full-blown asthma attack (long story and all is good now). Anyway, hours later, once we had said goodnight to Husband and left the hospital, equipped with ventolin and a nebuliser, Son, breathing properly again, looked out of the car window and became transfixed with the half moon that seemed to follow us all the way home.

“Moon bwoken,” he said, seriously.

When we got home, Son insisted that we go outside to look at the moon. After a few moments, he asked me, “Daddy can fixit?”

“Yes,” I said, holding back my tears.

A week or so later, with Husband home again, Son took both of our hands and toddler-rushed us outside where we all looked up to see a beautiful, full moon wrapped in a dark, cloudless sky.

Son then threw his chubby little arms around Husband’s neck and whispered, “Fank you, Daddy, you’re a vewy good boy!”

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About birds, wings and other things

I have just altered the tagline (subtitle) to my blog fromfeeding the birds’ (I think that’s what it was!) to about birds, wings and other things’.

Apart from the fact that this little tagline rhymes, I thought it might better describe why my subject matter has transmogrified (sorry, I love that word!) into mini-articles/stories that are sometimes about things other than birds….

For example, in my cramped little office at the end of the enclosed veranda that Wantok dominated for a time, there is a wasp hovering around my head wanting very much to sting me, and, in a couple of hours, I will see the mouse I’ve been trying to trap for several days nibbling at my pile of papers.

Also, despite the comfort and beauty of our birds, Husband’s illness and Son’s adolescence have begun to preoccupy me much more than the birds. And another ‘also’: now that I’ve discovered so many fantastic blogs and bloggers, I would like to be able to ‘reblog’ (if I can figure out how!) etc. I guess I’m still on P-plates!

In other words – and I don’t particularly like cliches, but this one is apt – the sky is the limit!

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Emu update

I just wrote this exhilaratingly, amazingly fascinating post about our emus and it’s disappeared! Not only have the brilliant words disappeared but so have the incredible photos! I will try again tomorrow – sorry.

(For new readers, I am being tongue-in-cheek!)

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