busy

Sunday I finished building a cabinet I'd been working on for a month, sang in a concert (Brahms' Deutches Requiem), and went to the airport to pick up our guest speaker for work the next day. She tried not to react to my lovely concert attire (complete with pearls) at the terminal, but seemed to be relieved when I explained that formal dress was not my usual mode. I really dislike making mitered edges on crown molding, but I do like singing in German. The consonant combinations are very satisfying to take your time over and then finally spit out. The measuring, remeasuring, and cutting for crown molding also requires time and exacting care, but the voice is more forgiving than alder. Minute adjustments can be made vocally much more easily than in wood. Plus you don't have to worry about the glue drying too quickly.

Mithu is trying out new words and phrase combinations. This morning when I uncovered her cage to say good morning, she remarked, "Twinkle." She also mimicked throat clearing and sneezing (she doesn't really have a cold), and told herself, "Bless you!" Both of these were firsts, and lead me to believe that she is poised to produce additions to her already extensive repetoire.

I tried to twinkle all day. I think it helped.

What's wrong with any of us?

Bowie the little bird: "Breee-aack, breeeee-aaack!"
Mithu: "Who's that?"
Me: "It's Bowie, the other bird that lives here. You remember her."
Mithu: "What's wrong with her?"
Me: "Nothing, she's just fine, except that she's afraid of you and that's why she
lives in another room."
Mithu: "ooooh."

Now, I'm not wondering about the fact that I've just had what amounts to a conversation with a parrot. I'm wondering if she really has regret that she is the cause of Bowie having to live in another part of the house, and that we have to limit contact between our birds. Bowie reacts to Mithu pretty much the same way she reacts to crows outside- which is with alarm at their dangerous and reckless natures.
Mithu is, perhaps, dangerous and reckless.

(no) picnic, lightning

The guy that is building the porch came by this afternoon, just as it was about to storm. Lightning was flashing all around, and thunder was rumbling so loudly that the windows of the house were rattling in their sashes. As we greeted him and watched, he put up the tall aluminum ladder and started to climb to the porch roof. I tried to talk him out of going up, but he was unhappy with the way some of the shingles had been laid, and came by to make sure they were right so the roof wouldn't leak. He hammered around for a few minutes, I reviewed my CPR training just in case, but he made it down just fine, a couple of minutes ahead of the rain. He grinned and said, "There, now I can sleep tonight!" and left.

We were in the presence of a craftsman.

angry couple at the airport

I had to pick someone up at the airport yesterday. I parked the car, and went in to wait by the baggage claim. I was about 15 minutes early, so I worked on the crossword puzzle from the newspaper to pass the time. At least I worked on it until Angry Man and his entourage came along. He could not find his bag fast enough to suit him, so he proceeded to bluff and bluster and generally act like an ass. He and his wife were a good pair. Their faces had become permanently set in frowns. Their wrinkles were not laugh lines. They had an even older person with them whom they were, perhaps, trying to impress with their importance and ability to GET THINGS DONE. The more they fussed and abused airport staff, the less they got done in the way of getting their bags. During one of the periods when they stormed off, loudly berating everyone within earshot, the elder quietly managed to have a baggage handler find the bags, get a cart, and have a wheelchair sent on the way. When the uglies returned, they were furious that she had accomplished what they couldn't. They tried to tell her that she had gotten the wrong bags, but their names were on them! How bizarre is that?

I wanted to tell them to calm down, that nothing as trivial as slow bags (these weren't even missing, for pete's sake!) was worth the turmoil they were creating. I didn't though, because secretly, I was hoping that his head would blow up. I wanted to see how the charming wife in her casino wear would handle that. I was hoping that the elder would roll quietly away and leave them behind and find a nicer family to live with. I think the Grumpy Woman must have been her daughter, and I wondered if she had been regretting her daughter's marriage to the Angry Man for years and years. Or maybe she didn't like her daughter, and was glad that she was with someone miserable.

Watch out for your face. Apparently, it will freeze like that. Watch out for your soul. If you deal bad, and expect bad, you will get bad. I love the thought of instant karma, but regular old karma will do, too.

kicking; when dancing goes wrong

The other night, Mithu was on the floor playing with the dogs' toys, rather than her own. Sam had a squeaky toy and was nearby. Sam is the calmest of calm dogs. Everyone is a potential friend, even if you are a bird who has mistreated him on occasion. He is always ready to trust- a lesson to us all. Mithu stalked over (if you have even doubted the bird-dinosaur link, just watch a parrot stomp across the floor toward a victim) to Sam with her beak open and her neck outstretched. I warned as she closed in, "Don't you bite Sam! No biting!" So she closed her beak, pulled back one leg, and kicked him. It was the brattiest looking kick imaginable, and might have done some damage, if the dog weren't 50 times larger than the bird. He jumped up anyway, and hid behind the chair. I tried to admonish her, but am afraid that I may have not been too effective, since we were so amazed and we were laughing pretty hard. It was too bizarre, and very funny to see. I'd doubt it myself, if there wasn't a witness present.

How does a bird switch from a natural meanie behavior to an entirely new meanie behavior? We don't kick at our house- all adults, and fairly placid. Did she see kicking on Dora the Explorer? It is her new favorite TV show, second only to Spongebob Squarepants. Maybe the kicking was on Spongebob. Plankton is fairly violent. Mithu calls me Squiddy or Squidward or Squid-squiddy as a nickname. She came up with this on her own, and I am honored. I do not resemble Squidward (physically) at all. really. I resemble a Muppet.

How did she know that kicking was a pesty thing to do? Do birds kick in the wild? It was not a natural looking move- which I think is what made it so damn funny. The only other experience that I know she had with kicking was when the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade was on TV last year. She was watching it on and off (so was everyone while we made preparations for the feast.) The Rockettes came on and did their usual dance routine, and Mithu's attention was riveted to the TV. She began to dance on her perch, deliberately picking up her feet and kicking them out and stamping and bobbing like crazy. She had previoulsy only been observed doing the "toddler bob"- head and shoulders going to the music, but both feet plated firmly in perch or floor. Now she was high stepping around and plainly having a grand time.

Kicking. Dancing versus pestiness. How crazy does it sound to tell a bird, "No kicking!"

birds

I have a companion- a Congo African Grey Parrot- who continually causes me to pause and think about the nature of cognition. Before the advent of Mithu, I had considered the thought process to be something that , if not uniquely human, was at least uniquely mammalian. Fish think? nah. Reptiles think? nah. Amphibians? too squishy. Birds? tiny crania.
Enter Mithu, exit all preconceived notions of cognitive ability.
Although certain elements of operant conditioning affect our relationship, there is no doubt in my mind whatsoever that this bird learns, and puts together her learnings into new ideas that inform her behavior.
Wordy, wordy, wordy...but pay attention- it says what I need to and mean to say. Mithu is a small, feathery, aware being with maniac tendencies. Examples will help, so here are some, and there will be more in future posts.

Levels of relationship and nice behavior
We have been working on acceptable behavior, on becoming a little less selfish, and a little more kind toward the other beings in Mithu's life. She has favorites, certainly. I am a favorite. "Heddur" is a favorite. Bill was a favorite. Favorites get to hold a bird, pat a bird, play with, and walk around with a bird without getting the snot bitten out of them. Non-favorites get bitten quickly and ruthlessly if they try to touch her. Mithu also has a catergory of in-betweens. These are the beings that have entertainment value, or hold her curiosity. She seems to experiment with the in-betweens, to see just what they will do , and how much abuse they will take.
Dogs qualify as in-betweens. She calls them, and laughs when they come. She orders them around ("go lie down!", "come here!", "sit!", and "bad dog!") She feeds them- and they are a willing understory. I rarely have to sweep the crumbs from the floor where she's tossed them treats- peanut bits, bird kibble, toast crust, vegetables, etc. "Here doggie!"

inquiring minds

"What about the eel?"

"Why can't I find your folklore from Antarctica?"

"I need you to tell me a new invention and how to make it."

"Why aren't there any photos of Roger Williams (founder of Rhode Island)? Was he too ugly?"

"Do you have any books I'd like to read?"

"You are the nicest foreigner I've met."

"Can I have 50 cents?"

"Can a domino pigeon beat up a St.Bernard?"

>I'll take 'Things That People Think it is OK to Say to a Librarian', for $100.00, Alex.<

not quite kicking and screaming into the 21st century

Repeating over and over to myself...I am not a Luddite, I am not a Luddite, I enter the blogging world with not a little trepidation. One part vanity, one part chutzpah, one part curiosity, and two parts trying to keep current add up to my reasons for beginning this blog.

I think humor is essential. The un-laughed at life is not worth living. It is a gift, I think, to be able to see the light side of things, and to not take yourself too seriously. I know lots of unintentionally funny people- maybe they are just joyful-whom I love and respect. I work in an entirely humorous environment, where excellent public service is the goal. I live with very funny animals who deserve enormous respect for their individual personalities. I do good work that is often thwarted by politics, money, and circumstance, but that remains interesting and fun. And last, but not least, I am incredibly lucky. Not in the giant lottery winning sense of lucky, but in the little day to day, catching-the-glass-ornament-before-it-hits-the-floor lucky.

I may tell some stories on this blog. Just so you know, I rarely resort to hyperbole. Real life is strange enough.