jmgoyder

wings and things

Late bloomers!

This morning I looked out the window to see three perfect moonflowers! I thought we would have to wait until next year (see my ‘moonflower’ posts), so this was a fantastic surprise. In the middle of the photo below you can see the brown shrivelled remains of the previous moonflowers. And, by the time it takes me to finish this post, the three late bloomers will have begun to close up, droop and fade. Their lives are so short and yet so full.

When I was younger and more prayerful than I am now, I used to look for signs all the time – like divine signs I mean. I soon discovered that if you spend all your time looking for divine signs, you end up tripping over your feet a lot! Nevertheless, these three late blooming moonflowers do seem like a good sign.

The fact that there are only three seems like a good sign is rather lovely too – one for Husband, one for Son and one for me. Well, why not!

We have another late bloomer here too – the Malay rooster. As you may or may not recall, he is the offspring of the Malay hen who was given to us months ago. He is now almost full grown and hangs out with the other two roosters, Tina Turner and No-name. The reason No-name doesn’t have a proper name is because, after the fox massacre of so many of our chooks, I stopped naming them.

No-name has a hell of a crow on him – he never stops crowing, day and night, and is much louder than Tina. Perhaps he is trying to prove that he deserves a better name than No-name because he will also sit on my lap and likes to be patted.

I was assuming/hoping that all of the (recently) missing hens were hiding somewhere, sitting on eggs but it’s now been way too long since I’ve seen any of them which can only mean that they have been ‘foxed’. I live in hope however that one day a zillion little chickens will emerge from underneath one of the many sheds. After all, I never expected to see another moonflower this year.

I’ll leave you with a picture of Malay. Isn’t he beautiful!  I have decided to call him Moonflower. It’s worth the risk….

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Giggling grief

Grief is a very strange emotion because it comes and goes. One minute it is like a punch to the throat and the next minute it’s like a memory tickle. Yes, grief does giggle – well, at least mine does.

For example, I have just recovered from one of those sobbing onslaughts – you know the kind? You are cooking dinner, or on the phone to a friend, or feeding the dogs/birds/pets/whatever, and suddenly your voice stops short and you are crying and, no matter how hard you try to stop it, your crying becomes sobbing.

Okay, when this happened to me this afternoon, I went straight outside, and there were the guinnea fowl again! So my grief got the giggles!

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Back at the beginning

I just looked up my ‘bird records’ to discover that our bird adventure began less than a year ago, last March. That made me feel weird because it seems like the birds have been here forever! Previous to the birds, we just had the two miniature male dachschunds, Doc and Blaze. Here are my records fyi:

Tuesday 15th March, 2011

Bought 10 guinnea fowl chicks

Doc and Blaze not happy

Monday 4th April 2011

Bought 5 more guinnea fowl chicks

Doc and Blaze really not happy

Tuesday 12th April 2011

Bought 2 pullet Isa Brown hens with Colleen

Doc and Blaze have to be yarded

 Thursday 5th May 2011

Bought 6 peafowl (1 mother and 5 chicks)

Doc and Blaze in shock

Tuesday 17th May 2011

Bought 4 more peachicks

Doc and Blaze in rage

Tuesday 31st May 2011

Bought a breeding pair of peafowl

Doc and Blaze resigned to things

Saturday 11th June, 2011

Bought 2 male golden pheasants – 6 months old

Doc and Blaze want to eat them

Thursday 16th June 2011

Bought 2 female pheasants – 6 months old

Doc and Blaze amazed

Saturday 18th June 2011

Got rooster from Colleen for free ‘Gladiator’

Doc and Blaze scared of Gladiator

Wednesday 22nd June 2011

Bought 3 bantam silkies – 6 months old

Doc and Blaze confused

Wednesday 29th June 2011

Bought 7 Araucana-cross chicks – 5 weeks old

Doc and Blaze don’t know yet – chicks in brooder box

Friday 1st July, 2011

Bought 2 Indian runner ducklings – 3 weeks old

Doc and Blaze don’t know yet – ducklings in brooder box

Monday 4th July 2011

Bought 2 bantam light sussex hens – 6 months old and 1 Malay hen – 1 year old

Doc and Blaze licking lips again

Tuesday 5 July 2011

Bought 2 pekin bantam hens – 1 black 6 months old and 1 mauve a year old

Doc and Blaze have to be kept separate – dog trainer coming out tomorrow

And that’s where my records stop because, not long after the last entry, we experienced the fox massacre (we lost almost all of our chooks in one night), Husband’s health began to deteriorate dramatically, Son’s scoliosos increased dramatically, my stress levels reached for the clouds dramatically, and so on.

So I have no records of when we purchased our beautiful geese, the white peacocks and the emus (although the blog helps with the latter).

It is hard to believe that so much can change so fast.

I wish I could go back in time and change the records.

For example, maybe if I’d warned the dogs, they wouldn’t have had such a negative attitude to the birds. Blaze, Doc’s son, has adjusted to things, but not Doc (below photo deliberately blurred – ha! – due to disturbing material).

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Duck dancing

Tapper, one of our two Muscovy ducks, has two perfectly good legs but, for some reason, he often prefers to tuck one leg up and stand on the other one. He then does a pirouetty move and, eventually, sticks the tucked-up leg straight out backwards, at a right-angle to his body, to perfectly to align it with his tail feathers. In the photo below you can just see his one ‘foot’ tucked up.

Tapper can do this ‘duck dance’ for ages and ages. His balance is incredible and, when he does this, he doesn’t seem like the Tapper who usually waddles around quite clumsily. Weird! Here he is with that left foot tucked right into his wings.

Whilst Tapper was doing yet another one of his dances the other afternoon, I stood opposite him and tried to stand on one foot for as long as he could. I was pretty good, but, when it came to the pirouette, I kind of fell over. Well actually I did fall over. Yeah, but at least I don’t waddle!

Duck dancing is for the birds……

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Yesterday

Yesterday, a friend said we had made a good decision in ensuring Husband’s permanency in the nursing lodge.

Yesterday, a friend said we had made a terrible mistake ‘putting’ Husband into a ‘nursing home’.

Yesterday, a friend said Son’s spinal operation was the best thing we could possibly do, and our only option.

Yesterday, a friend said spinal surgery was a bad idea, that Son might become paralysed and that, at the very least, he would lose flexibility.

Yesterday, a friend said that everything would be all right.

Yesterday, a friend said that things would be very difficult.

Yesterday, I wanted it to be Today.

So I went outside to see Pearl … because she doesn’t say anything.

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“You care more about the birds than us!”

Guilty as charged.

When Son accused me of this a few months ago, I explained to him that (a) the birds were to cheer Husband up; (b) to keep me sane; and (c) to keep us happy….

“And to drive me crazy!” Son growled.

Point taken!

The real point is – and this has now been extensively discussed with Husband, who is totally supportive – Son is now THE priority with his scoliosis surgery happening next week. I should be able to stay in Perth for two nights with my good friend, Colleen, looking after the birds for us. And Husband is safe in the nursing lodge, so all is well.

I feel awful that Son thinks that I care more about the birds than I care about him and Husband, but I understand how he may have gotten this impression.

Son hasn’t really changed that much in his 18 years, has he? He still has a relentless determination to be a STAR!

And he is!

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Favouritism

I don’t agree with favouritism but nobody can deny that it does happen – with kids, with pets, with friends and family, and – for me – with the birds. So, even though I don’t like the idea of favouring one breed over another, I am unable to deny that the geese are my favourites. Of course I love the chooks, ducks, peacocks, emus, guinnea fowl, golden pheasants, our new weiro and the wild birds too, but the geese have grabbed my heart and imagination more than any of the others.

This is probably because of the phenomenon of imprinting (see a previous post & http://www.thegoosesmother.com/id6.html) which, to some extent, works both ways. You see, except for Godfrey, our geese were raised from tiny goslings, whereas most of the other birds came to us a bit older. The following photo is of Ola and Seli (Pilgrim geese) on their first day outside (we had them in a box in front of the Aga beforehand).

And here is Ola now – she’s the one at the back of the ‘lake’. Pearl, our first Sebastopol goose, is in the middle (she deserves her own post so I will save that).

And here is Seli – again, at the back.

One of my favourite friends came over the other day and, as she was leaving, she said, with unintentionally wise wit, “Julie, you are such a goose!”

Mmmmm!

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Up close and personal

Okay, now that I’ve figured out how to zoom in for a good photo, and have taken advice from fellow bloggers who are proper photographers, I believe I have a few half-decent photos of the many birds you’ve been reading about. I hope these pics are better than my usual standard!

Here is Godfrey, the gander, who guards the other geese. He and I share a love/hate relationship which works quite well – i.e. I give him bread, he nearly bites my hand off, I say ‘no Godfrey!’ and then we repeat the ritual. Don’t ask me why I persevere! Maybe it’s just that I admire his magnificent stance; after all, to him I am but a mere mortal.

And below we have Brad, the adolescent blue peacock showing his fiancee, Angie, a white peahen, that he is getting into the groove. He is pretty thrilled to now be developing those famous ‘eyes’ in his feathers!

Angelina doesn’t seem terribly impressed but she may simply be a little confused?

Another character who has featured in many of this blog’s posts is Zaruma. We raised Zaruma from a very young age and, now that he’s a big boy, he can actually get the better of Godfrey, despite having been bullied earlier. Go Zaruma!

And, to cap this little experimental photo journey off – my best photo of today is of my least favourite bird (Tina Turner, the rooster who attacks my legs all the time). He didn’t do so today because my camera was intimidating him; also he seemed to almost be posing! Now that I know he isn’t a hen, I have promised to re-name him Sam if he stops the attacks!

Are the photos okay?

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The girl with the bleeding eye

About twice a week, during the night, Husband used to see the girl with the bleeding eye. She was always lying on her back in the single bed adjacent to his, even though that’s where I sleep now. Her left eye spurted blood in a projectile way, up towards the ceiling, then – like a waterfall in slow motion – fell, the droplets somehow evaporating before they reached the white counterpane underneath which she lay silently.

Husband used to say that this particular hallucination didn’t bother him because he knew that the girl with the bleeding eye wasn’t really there.

“What do you do when you see her?”

“I say hello.”

“What does she do?”

“She just smiles and the bleeding stops.”

BTW hallucinations are often a symptom of Parkinson’s disease and/or (paradoxically) the medications used to treat this condition. Husband has developed an heroic ability to dismiss his hallucinations as hallucinations. He’s become clever at telling the difference.

Husband also knew, from when we first got him, that Tina Turner was not a hen, but a rooster!

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It’s not Buttons

Husband is home from the nursing lodge for the weekend because yesterday was his birthday. As he loved Buttons, I decided to buy him another weiro for his birthday present and he was delighted. I chose the only one that resembled Buttons, the difference being that this one has not been hand-raised. As it turns out, this is a significant difference!

Just in case you think the idea of replacing Buttons is a bit ‘off’, I did not make this decision lightly as my grief over losing Buttons still sits like a clenched claw in my chest. I guess I just felt that getting another weiro would be good for all of us – Husband, Son and me – and the weiro too. I hope so. Now I just have to tame him!

I don’t want to name this little bird Buttons because, despite the resemblance, he is very unButtonsish – slimmer, paler, louder (he has a beautiful soaring whistle) and, again, not hand-raised. According to all the information I’ve read, taming him will take a lot of time, patience and human proximity. I can do that.

So the next picture of It’s-not-Buttons (still can’t think of a name – any suggestions?) will be minus the cage. I can’t wait!

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