I didn’t mean to chop this turkey’s head off in the photo, however yesterday evening I wanted to do it literally because Bubble got trapped behind a fence and Son and I had to herd him into our garden and back to the yard. Okay, to explain – both of our original turkeys are named Bubble. This one is obviously a male because he is much bigger than the other Bubble who, at the time of this ridiculous incident, was already in the yard with Baby Turkey and the gang. Now the reason I describe this situation as ‘ridiculous’ is because I don’t understand why this Bubble had to be herded when he can fly!
It’s as if he wanted to do it the hard way, rather than the easy way – or perhaps he just lacks commonsense. I understand both, I guess, as I often choose the more difficult route unintentionally due to an innate (it would seem) inability to see the commonsense solution.
The most ironic thing is that, once Bubble was in the yard with the gang, he flew straight into the adjacent emu yard anyway! The Emerys love him because he stops Baby Turkey from giving them nightmares.
And then Tapper did her evening indecision dance. She perches on top of the fence between the gang’s yard and the Indian Runner’s yard, as if to say, “Which one of you guys wants me most?” This flirtatiousness has given her a rather bad reputation so, in the end, she usually just flies out of all of the yards and goes back to the bath to meditate.
And poor King peacock now hides in the avocado tree because he is (I assume) so embarrassed that his feather aren’t growing back as quickly as was expected, so now all of the adolescent peacocks are surpassing him.
Husband’s nursing lodge is in ‘lockdown’ at the moment due to a virus outbreak so, even though I have snuck in a couple of times, I’ve been told not to visit, or bring him home, until it is safe. Apparently tomorrow it will be ‘all clear’ again. In the meantime, Son’s post-surgery convalescence is having its ups and downs.
Last night I dreamed I was a bird – just a tiny bird, the size of a sparrow – and I was flying over this farm and our house trying to shed my little leftover feathers onto all of the things that needed fixing, but I couldn’t because my feathers were made of steel. My wings got more and more cement-like and, eventually, I fell to the ground.
Perhaps I need to get a non-Avian hobby – hehe!
jmgoyder 