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more feathered friends
Feb. 13th, 2003 01:42 pm
Remember when I said I'd chatted to an ex-pet cockatoo, the one who didn't really remember the words but liked to burble back at humans, ever so happy to get a response? Well, he's been coming around, a lot, and is now comfortable enough to let me take photos, unlike the lorikeets and currawongs who were all very no photos please, we've got an exclusive contract with OK! yesterday. Prima Donas, the lot of 'em, cause they sure ain't shy when they want snackies. So anyway, introducing the latest member of the menagerie. There are actually more, but they're shy, staying up in the trees while I had the camera out. They're big noisy birds too, upsetting all the lower order, especially peeving the magpies and lorikeets. Ah well, happy families. There were never cockatoos here when I was growing up. These flocks are all from escaped pets. Many a time I've thought I've gone mad because I've heard someone saying hello to me from the tree tops. Well, you walk down a lane alone in the early morning and keep hearing someone say hello behind you except everytime you turn around there's no one there. Then you see him, an ex-pet perched on a low branch eyeing you speculatively for snacks. That time he sat on hand and ate my lunch, cheeky beggar. It's probably still him, even though that was over ten years ago they do live long lives.
I keep wishing my bird watching friends would get their arses down here. Right now I can guarantee at least ten native species in ten minutes, and maybe some hand feeding if they're so inclined. Heh, yes, I have been known to hold back the snacks so they'll schmooze guests. Nothing so boring as a bunch of birds all sleeping off their full bellies somewhere. I mean, last time best friend came over the lorikeets were all asleep in the tree, all cute and nodding together, rather than shagging each other senseless, as is the norm.
Missed most of Buffy last night, doing stuff. My fault, was distracted by Mr Darcy on tv earlier so there was not doing when I should have been doing, which led to doing when I should have been vegetating in front of the box (it was the invisible Buffy episode, too. Just about the only episode of S6 I liked). Didn't really see much of Angel, either (it was the Cordy, It's a Wonderful Life episode). Did watch Boomtown, just because it had two of my boys from Easy Company in it. Not bad, cute pov gimick disguising reed thin plot, some interesting characters though I think some of the guests outshone the regulars, the old grandfather in particular, but I was mostly distracted by Neal's bad dye job of ever changing hue. I thought RDA in Stargate was bad, but I hereby stand corrected. Please, please, just leave Neal be, he's perfectly gorgeous as he is, thankyou.
Oh, check out the photos on the NBC Boomtown site, too. It's the same pics of the cast, badly plonked down over various backgrounds. Guys, I've seen bad amatuer fan manips that looked less fake. sheesh.
Oh, vented my spleen over my jack_daniel list but again I say I really can't stand people who are so precious about putting stuff up on the net and not sharing it. If it's on the net it's published in a public medium. If you don't want to share it, don't upload it, or invest in an intranet with firewalls and passwords. But if it's up there, it's fair game. People will find it and look at it and tell other people, that's all there is to it. Precious bloody people, I don't know. My sole motivation for my pages is to share my stuff. Guess I'm still a card carrying commie afterall.
Just a few more notes: yes I was upset at missing Beth Orton last night but seriously, between this damn summer flu bug and my savaged feet there was no way standing up for hours, and staying sober because I was on my own, was going to be fun. Damn. If it had been last week I'd have had a wonderful time.
Freak of nature: I think I'm a freak of nature. As I popped out of work yesterday an intensely black cloud bowled up out of a clear blue sky and kept pace with me, pelting rain, whether I travelled by bus or on foot. It hovered over me bucketing down as I waited the usual three ages for the lights to change to cross the six lane arterial road and kept thrashing me until I drew level with my own backyard where it suddenly skidded off into the horizon like the clappers, so that by the time I walked through the gate in brilliant sunshine and bright blue skies mother came to wonder how I was so soaked to the skin as I was, having never seen my own personal cloud from her window. There I was, standing in a parched and dusty yard, soaked to the skin, dripping. How very X Files of me, and proof that I am disliked, cosmically, as the heavens literally rained on my parade, but not on my garden. Sigh.
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