jmgoyder

wings and things

Wanderlust 2

Well, I don’t think I will have to get that peacock horn after all because all of the peafowl seem to be back home. According to a rather unpleasant email from a neighbour, they had been roosting on their roof for a few days. I did a bit of research and a bit of thinking and have realized a few interesting things. Firstly, during mating season, the females can be rather coy and may try to get away from the showoffy males; secondly, the females may be looking for places to lay eggs and nest; and thirdly, it isn’t that hard to shoo them away if you have a water hose.

Today Ming went over the road to the neighbour’s and actually ‘mustered’ the few that were still there back home so I am hoping they will stop wandering around the adjacent farms and settle. This remains to be seen but I have suggested to the complaining neighbours that they continue to hose them away until the peafowl get the message, or else simply ring Ming again.

Apart from King and Queenie, our two adults, we got the rest as non-sexed chicks  so it wasn’t until they grew up that we realized we had a ratio of one male to one female (which means we have an overabundance of males). So we may need to re-home some of these males and I have made some enquiries, not because of the traumatized neighbours but because I think the peahens may be a little overhwelmed by all the male attention.

Anthony is coming home at some stage on the weekend so I hope I will have sorted things out by then because he loves those peafowl as much as I do now. After today, Ming is a little disenchanted!

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Wanderlust

The peafowl have taken to wandering off the property during the days (I think it’s something to do with their mating season adventurousness!) So I am searching for a peacock horn to call them back. Most of them have returned this evening for their bread treat and wheat, and to roost in the wattle trees, but some are still off having adventures.

Maybe I will have to buy a trumpet!

Any suggestions?

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The wheelchair taxi woman

When Anthony has been wheelchair-taxied home and back he has had a variety of drivers. One of those drivers is a lovely woman who dropped in unexpectedly yesterday morning on her day off to ask about buying peachicks. We exchanged phone numbers so that I could ring her if we are lucky to get any hatchlings but admitted that I wasn’t sure what the chances were due to our fox problem. Also the peafowl are very independent so I don’t know if and where the peahens are laying (I obviously need to do some research!)

Anyway, during our short conversation, she asked when ‘hubby’ was coming home again and I said I had begun to think this was a bad idea because it upset him so much to go back to the nursing lodge after being here with us. She disagreed and said that even though he is upset each time she takes him back, it is well worth it for his sake, to be home even if it’s only briefly. “It’s the same for every person,” she said, “Don’t stop bringing him home.”

So guess what? Anthony is being wheelchair-taxied home in around 2 hours, for lunch and the afternoon.  Wish us luck!

Oh no – I better hurry up and hide those two pots with the dead azaleas in them! On the other hand, Anthony does know that I am not a gardener.

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I am pregnant!

I bet that shocked you! Of course I am not pregnant; after all I am 53 and Anthony is in a nursing lodge. But I keep having dreams about being pregnant and they are so real that I wake up in the morning and am surprised that I am not pregnant.

Last night, everything in the dream was initially as it is in real life: Ants was in the nursing lodge and Ming was 18. Then it got really bizarre because in the dream I had only just given birth to a beautiful little girl, to find myself pregnant again. I was bewildered at how this could be possible and my friends were looking at me askance as if I were some sort of alien, or else had dabbled in an affair. I woke up whilst still pregnant and trying to figure out how and why this had happened.

I don’t find these dreams disturbing at all; I find them rather interesting adventures. Also it is easy to see why I might be having these dreams: (a) the birds are madly mating, and loudly, because it is Spring; (b) Anthony has begun to think I have found another man; (c) Ming is giving me the whoops; and (d) Tapper, the duck, is still sitting on her eggs hoping they will hatch. As for deeper, psychological interpretations, well that is probably a minefield that I would rather avoid at the moment.

Perhaps these dreams are a signal that something really great is about to be born. That would be good!

[Or perhaps it’s just that we are inundated with eggs, the peafowl keep pooping on the chookhouse, or I need to go to the gym? Who knows!]

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Queenie

Queenie is our oldest peahen because I purchased her and King as adults. All of the other peafowl came as littlies. Queenie and I have a rather special relationship although we do disagree on some issues. She is a rather radical feminist whereas I tend to waver. She has successfully negotiated a relationship with her husband, King, whereby he only visits when she says yes. King understands because he can see how hard Queenie is working on training the younger peahens. King’s method of training the young peacocks is to play tag around the house.

I think the reason that Queenie and I get on so well is that we are both contemplative. I love her!

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Just for fun!

Just for fun, I sent my kissing peafowl photo to Robyn at http://throughthehealinglens.com/ to see if she could improve it. And look what she’s done – amazing difference!

Here is the ‘before’:

And here is  the ‘after’ – Robyn’s version:

I love it! Thank you, Robyn.

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Contentment

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Looking up

I’ve been asked a few times now about the rationale behind having so many birds when life is already complicated enough with Anthony’s Parkinson’s Disease, the nursing lodge transition traumas, Ming’s back surgery and subsequent life adjustments. So here is an explanation:

Last year, when Anthony was still living here at home and the idea of a nursing lodge had not even been contemplated, and I was already on an extended leave arrangement from my job as a lecturer at the local university, I decided to do everything possible to make our lives brighter. It began with the guinnea fowl because Anthony has always loved them; then poultry; then the peafowl (that was my idea). We had chookyards built, began to reap the delight of fresh eggs and the guinnea fowl (a dozen) made a very interestingly noisy addition to what had become an overly quiet life.

I befriended all of the birds and, to some extent, tamed them but it wasn’t until that first dusk when I watched, amazed, as all of the guinneas and peafowl flew up into the trees to sleep, that I realized I was hooked. Why? Because for the first time in years I was looking up.

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Indifference

I read once that the opposite of love is indifference, not hatred, and I think this makes a lot of sense. Indifference has a deceptive blandness to it, but is actually much more effective than hatred which, in my opinion, is a rather stupid emotion but does fuel a multiplicity of wars – within families, within countries, across history and geography. Hatred gobbles itself up in a futile way because it cannot forgive.

Indifference, on the other hand, is a wonderful emotional tool because you can use it to forgive and forget, and it is much gentler than hatred. The only problem with indifference is that, because it is so subtle, sometimes the indifferenced don’t  get it. I have learned these wisdoms from the antics of peafowl – ha!

Poor King. He keeps trying to impress Queenie but she just wants him to go away!

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Eggs galore!

Chooky: Here you are, Julie.

Me: Oh, thank you, Chooky!

Chooky: Sometimes I amaze myself.

[Note: Actually these eggs were a joint project shared by Chooky’s five identical sisters]

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