Brad (blue peacock) kisses Angelina (white peahen) for the first time, heavily chaperoned by Angelina’s brother, Malay chook and Brad’s brother.
Brad: Was that okay, Angie, darling?
Angelina: Oh yes! So does this mean we’re married now, even though your tail feathers haven’t grown yet?
Brad: Did you have to say that?
This afternoon, Son went for a motorbike ride with his mates. They usually go on the bush trails around here, so it’s not roadbike stuff. On the other hand, this is not the wisest thing to do before having surgery on your back! Oh well – when I’m not intensely anxiety-ridden, I’m a free and easy mum.
Free and easy isn’t necessarily a popular stance, especially when it comes to parenting (and, now, bird-raising!) But I absolutely love it. Let me recap:
In the Christmas of 2010, Husband and I surprised Son with the motorbike of his dreams. Son had no idea, so when he got to the bottom of his pillowcase presents, he was shocked to open a tiny package containing the motorbike key. We had hidden the actual motorbike in the old dairy, so it took ages for Son to find it.
It was joy-at-first-sight – the best moment of spoiled-brattishness ever. Son was so overcome, he cried.
In free and easy mode, I let him go on the ride today, despite the impending surgery to his back. Perhaps I’m an idiot, perhaps not; I want him to be feisty, not feeble; courageous, not cowardly; free, not frightened; resiliant, not (sorry, can’t think of an ‘r’ word!)
Needless to say, but I’m going to say it anyway, this kid is the light of our lives – Husband’s life, my life and, well, Son seems to also be the light of his own life.
He LOVES himself!!
Free and easily yours….
Son and I just got home (it’s nearly 6pm in Western Australia) from our second day of medical appointments in Perth, to find Buttons, the weiro, dead in the toilet. As Buttons has always had plenty of water, he has never ventured into this tiny room at the end of the enclosed veranda before (the door to which is usually shut anyway – oh why did I leave it open today?)
I should have put him in his cage for the day. I should have closed the door to this little bathroom he’s never ventured into. I’m an idiot and absolutely grief-stricken by the loss of this tiniest of all our birds – but a bird with the biggest personality.
This is one of the hardest things about having birds, watching birds and loving birds – the inevitability of loss, because of their vulnerability and unpredictability. I am beginning to wonder how, and why, the incredible (and mutual) joy of the birds has been punctuated by grief over and over again for me, for us.
Yesterday and today, Son and I learned some scary things about his scoliosis surgery on the 14th. The nurse, physiotherapist, doctor, aneasthetist, respiratory specialist, radiologist etc. etc. filled us in on some of the minor details the surgeon hadn’t mentioned. For example, he will need bone from the bone bank, blood from the blood bank, his 74% curve can’t be surgically corrected to equal perfectly straight, the pain will be severe for two or three days, he might have to go into another hospital for rehab., there is a slight risk of paralysis etc. etc. All of this is fine with Son who can’t wait to be straightened but, for me, the fear lurks behind the anticipation of Son being ‘fixed’.
Son just rang Husband in the nursing lodge to tell him about our appointments today, and about Buttons.
I am going outside to put the gang away.
Our four emus are identical in every way. So I guess I was wise in giving them all the same name – Emery – which they all respond to. They are becoming more and more ‘at home’ here and, over the last week, I have been letting them free-range for longer and longer and, so far, they have not wandered too far. Also, it is easier now to get them back into their yard for the night. I have a little camp chair in there so, once they’re in, I usually sit and watch them eat their cabbage and lettuce (the afternoon treat) before leaving them to it.
As you can see below, they are very tame and, even though they like shiny things (I will have to stop wearing my watch out there because it always gets pecked!) they are never aggressive. I adore them.
Oh-oh! They’ve disappeared, so we are now going to a commercial break………..
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Okay, it is now several hours since I began this post. Son and I had arrived home from Perth and immediately let the Emerys out and, for an hour or so, they contented themselves with eating grass outside my office and around the house and then – GONE!
Son (in incredible good humour – not) scouted around the house block on his motorbike without any luck and eventually found them on the road, going east. Long story short: they are back in their yard and I will never, ever leave them unsupervised again!
In an attempt to de-crease Son’s dramatic frown, I reminded him of his toddler days when he, too, would wander off to explore the boundaries and beyond. Unfortunately, my anecdotes didn’t trigger his usual lovely smile although he did try. I’m just glad I didn’t have quadruplets!
Today was the deadline for us (Husband, Son and me) to ‘sign’ our agreement with the nursing lodge, to ensure that the room Husband is in for respite, is, as of tomorrow, permanently his room. This has now been done.
The only way I could cope with this was to keep reiterating to Husband that he could come home any time and that Son and I would enable this and that we would not abandon him.
Husband was home here for much of the day before we had to go back and sign the forms. There was a lot of talking, a lot of silence and a lot of withheld sobbing, but we got through and I took him back to the nursing lodge. I just rang Husband and he is okay – sort of.
Tomorrow, Son and I go to Perth for 4 hours of pre-op. appointments before his scoliosis surgery on 14 Feb. Son can’t wait for his surgery so he can be straight again. It’s all pretty weird timing I guess – good in some ways, not-so-good in other ways!
This blog was initially a bird blog, with a bit of humour added. I didn’t know, when I began the blog, that the above crap was situations were going to transpire so fast, so, for the birding followers, I apologise for these diversions.
Husband has always been my best friend. He is my best friend. Son comes a close second.
The three of us.
I am still gobsmacked by our ‘changelings’. You see, we weren’t home yesterday when the Alpacas, Okami and Uluru, were shorn. So, because we weren’t there to see it happen, it was even more of a ‘before-and-after’ shock.
Many of our birds also seem amazed. Angelina’s hair stood on end when Okami and Uluru approached the food bin to munch out on wheat – and, previous to the shearing, I thought they were a bit fat! I’m about to go and buy some more food for them!
The following photo was taken on the day we purchased the little fellows so how was I supposed to know what was underneath all of that wool???
Oh yeah, we now have several bags of Alpaca wool if anyone is interested! There is enough here to carpet an entire continent – ha!
To transmogrify (def. verb): to change in a radical sort of way. Think the Transformers series!
Okami and Uluru (our two Alpacas) were shorn today for the first time in their lives. We bought them at a few months of age so, by now, they are both around a year old; Okami is little bit older than Uluru and they are half-brothers.
This is what they looked like this morning:
This is what they look like now. Yes, it has been a bit of a shock to say the least! An amazing transmogrification – amazing! Son and I have been in hysterics whilst trying to adapt to this enormous change. I mean Uluru and Okami were relatively cute before but now – wow! – they are utterly cute – ha!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvdGPD443nE
The song above fits perfectly with the scenario below.
This is the malicious Baby Turkey approaching Emery, one of the sweet, innocent emus. Baby Turkey’s wingdrop move is straight out of the WWE handbook.
And this is the sweet, innocent Emery, singing ‘Can we still be friends’ to the malicious Baby Turkey – a very clever and effective tactic!
On the left is Guinnea (one of our many Guinnea fowl, all named ‘Guinnea’ for the sake of convenience), and on the right is Tapper (one of our two Muscovy ducks). Now, usually these two breeds don’t associate with each other. There’s no animosity; it’s more a matter of not having anything in common.
So I thought it was quite sweet last night to see them perched together on top of one of the yards, sharing the view of the back paddock, with the sunset nuzzling a few clouds away, a gentle breeze whispering its way through the grass, a lullaby of raindrops … WAIT A MINUTE!!!
The back paddock is where that rotten fox lurks. That’s what they’re watching. They must’ve seen him/her. And, because Guinnea and Tapper have the advantage over some of the gang in the sense that they can fly, I now realise that this is actually a photo of sentry duty and has nothing whatsoever to do with a view!
jmgoyder 