wings and things


When I got an email from doudou (my blog friend), I went to her blog and saw this! I’m a bit emotional at the moment so I cried and laughed at the same time.

Thank you so much, doudou, for upside-downing my frown into a great big grin.




Malay: Thank you for finally featuring me in one of your posts, Julie. I have been waiting rather a long time.


Malay: Next time, get the hose out of the way and please get your light settings right!


Malay: Newkid was okay but I am a survivor, Julie.


Malay: I would prefer it if you would refrain from photographing me with Prince from now on.


Love story 125 -Needy versus needed

As indicated in a previous post, whenever I get to the end of my tether, the first person I talk to is Anthony – always.

I think it is remarkable that when I am the needy one, he becomes incredibly supportive and completely forgets his own neediness.


This is Malay, our only remaining rooster. He has Anthony’s tenacity!


Who let the dogs out?

Remember this song?

For some time now we have had a dogs versus birds dilemma and this has been a source of contention between Ming and me. I have tended to lock the dogs in their yard and let the birds free range and Ming has wanted this arrangement reversed, so we have now come to a compromise. The dogs get to run free all morning, then get put back into their yard, then the poultry get to free range all afternoon until we put them away, then the dogs get another run. So far this is working very well.

The reason we can’t let them all frolic together is because the dogs want to kill everything. Blaze is a miniature dachschund and Jack is an Irish terrier so, despite our attempts to train them not to kill (using electric collar things briefly which I didn’t like, and a dog trainer) both breeds have been bred to hunt and kill.

Luckily the guinnea fowl and peafowl can fly up and away from dog danger, but none of the poultry can – not even Godfrey – so now we have a new system and everyone seems very happy – the gang, the dogs and Ming and me.

They look so innocent don’t they!

Don’t be fooled by their sweet demeanours; Ming let them out a bit early the other afternoon, before the roosters were roosting, and they killed Noname and Tina Turner almost instantaneously. Poor Ming tried to stop it but had to come and tell me. I cried my eyes out even though Tina and I had such a love/hate relationship. Noname was always a bit vulnerable and an easy target so I guess, for me, this was another lesson learned.

I’m not sure if getting accustomed to loss is a good or a bad thing.


Love story 102 – Rooster routines

This Anthonyless house has become a place of procrastination and rage and lassitude. The garden is overgrown, the house needs a sweep, the washing keeps getting rained on, and the meals don’t happen.

This Anthonyless house has lost its routine because he is no longer living here and motivating us to keep up. In very different ways, Ming and I are both in that limboland of depressed energy – he rages and I cry and, no matter how many times we climb up into the sunlight, we keep falling back down into the pit again.

Today, I was going to cook Ming a breakfast of bacon, eggs and tomatoes but, instead, I slept in.

Today, Ming was going to mow the lawns but, instead, he is playing his guitar and watching a movie in his room.

Today, I was going to visit Anthony in the nursing lodge at 11am but I’m not going in until 4pm now because  …


If I go in at 4pm with a bottle of red wine, I can emulate what we used to do every afternoon at 5pm at home; we would routinely have a pre-dinner drink. Yes! It has to be 4pm because in the nursing lodge dinner is at 5pm; there is a routine! So, if Ants and I have a drink together and a few olives at 4pm maybe he won’t get this confusion thing later in the evening after I’ve gone home. I could make this a regular routine thing that we both could look forward to!

Perhaps, if this is a regular routine, things will improve emotionally for all three of us? I don’t know. Some of my other haphazard ideas have gone to the wall – showing him my blog didn’t work, wheelchair-taxi rides home didn’t work, taking paperwork in to do with him didn’t work etc. etc.

It wouldn’t have to be every day. I haven’t been able to get in every day anyway, so it could be every second day. I could work this around picking up Ming from music school and his cow-milking schedule somehow. Yes!

I have to give the credit for this routine epiphany to Malay, our biggest and most regular cockadoodledooer! He says that routine is vitally important in terms of organizing the day.

Malay: I crow at 4am and 4pm on the dot. It keeps me sane.

Me: Okay, so how do you know what the time is?

Malay: Julie, I am a rooster!

Me: Oh sorry.

Malay: When you go in this afternoon, I will be crowing for you and Anthony. After all, you both raised me from a chick.

Me: Thanks, Malay.

This Anthonyless house is full to the brim with Anthony – roll on 4pm!


Rooster rage 2

Hurray. Tina Turner is now scared of me!!! Look at him trying to hide here in a little corner. What a coward. I didn’t even need to point the hose at him today. I win.

Interestingly, the other roosters are now refusing to let him bully them any longer too!


Rooster rage 1

Take a good look at this gorgeous rooster (named Tina Turner for obvious reasons) because you may not see him again.

Why? Well, quite simply, I have fallen out of love with him.

Why? Because he attacked my left leg the other day (the same leg attached to the twisted ankle) with such ferocity that he drew blood in five areas above and below my knee.

Ming had a friend visiting and, as I limped back to the house, I showed this friend my blood-stained jeans and he was very sympathetic (not).

Okay, so for the next few days these puncture wounds got bigger and infected and I could hardly walk and I had to get antibiotics. The worse it got, the more determined I became to outwit my foe.

Keep tuned for the next enthralling episode.



Bubble: I miss the emus.

Seli: So do I.

Woodroffe: So do I.

Angelina: So do I.

King: So do I.

Okami: So do I.

Pearly: So do I.

Malay: So do I.

Phoenix 1: So do I.

Ming: Well I DON’T!


Gelotology – the study of laughter

Today I discovered that I am just as skilled at laughing as I am at crying, so I googled ‘laughing’ and found another new word!

Today I told Anthony that I had rung the taxi company to get the money back for the unnecessary second trip yesterday and we would be reimbursed, but all he could say was, “I didn’t like the way that taxi driver put his arm around you.” I couldn’t stop laughing.

Today I wrote a blogpost about being nagged by Ming, our 18-year-old son and the first thing he said when he got home from music school was, “What’s this dirt on the carpet? You came inside with your boots on didn’t you.” I couldn’t stop laughing.

Today, one of our roosters, Tina Turner, who has taken over the whole chook harem, attacked me more viciously than ever before when I went to feed the hens. He drew blood! Well, I kicked him in self-defense and he somersaulted in the air. I couldn’t stop laughing (it’s okay, he is fine as you can see – he loves to dance on that table!)

Today I rang the guy who has repaired our nearly dead ute (truck) and explained why we still hadn’t picked it up and he started singing a refrain from that song ‘Julie, Julie, Julie, do you love me?’

I couldn’t stop laughing!


Rooster refuge

This is Malay who was ‘born’ under a shed here some months ago, and raised by two mothers. Both mothers and the other little chick were killed by that rotten fox but Malay has thrived. He is so strong (look at those legs!)

Now that he is a teenager, he is wondering if perhaps he could flirt with our new hens. So far, I have said no to his request.

No-name (on the left) and New kid (on the right) have also asked to be introduced to the new hens.

I think I should let Malay into the chookyard first because, despite the fact that he is the most ferocious looking of the four roosters, he is a gentle soul and loves a cuddle.

I have told Tina Turner that, until he stops attacking me all the time, he is not allowed to meet the hens. So far, this seems to be working as he did not attack me this morning when I fed the gang.