Post by Selden on Mar 31, 2007 20:22:38 GMT -5
Thank you all!
As of Wednesday, the red-wings are back, carolling madly about Booker T. Washington. When I walk the dog at 5:30 AM I can hear the barred owls calling -- mating season. Instead of their usual "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?" it's just "Who? Who? Who-all?" (I recognize the accent since both of my parents were from Alabama. )
Shari, I had to laugh over your description of being bombed by red-wings. As a teenager I had state and federal licenses for wild animal rehab (those were the dark ages, when those licenses were much easier to get; 30 years later I just have a state license at the entry level). Anyway, I was constantly raising baby birds and releasing them (other animals as well, but this is about the birds). It wasn't a problem when the wood ducks perched on the house roof but all the song birds were of course imprinted on people... My mother was a therapist and her clients coming up the walk to her home office had to steel themselves to have the occasional grackle, jay, robin, chickadee, etc. swoop down and land on their head or shoulders. I, who have no fear of birds, was charmed by this. Needless to say, my mother was a saint... and one of her clients said you knew your nerves had improved when you could get to her office without shrieking.
Link, I adore asparagus (send it this way, Claire!) and reading that long thread made me yearn to write something about what this wonderful board has taught me. I have written part in my head during milking. Perhaps I'll have a moment to actually type it out soon. In the meantime, warmest wishes to all. You are the best.
gratefully,
Selden
As of Wednesday, the red-wings are back, carolling madly about Booker T. Washington. When I walk the dog at 5:30 AM I can hear the barred owls calling -- mating season. Instead of their usual "Who cooks for you? Who cooks for you-all?" it's just "Who? Who? Who-all?" (I recognize the accent since both of my parents were from Alabama. )
Shari, I had to laugh over your description of being bombed by red-wings. As a teenager I had state and federal licenses for wild animal rehab (those were the dark ages, when those licenses were much easier to get; 30 years later I just have a state license at the entry level). Anyway, I was constantly raising baby birds and releasing them (other animals as well, but this is about the birds). It wasn't a problem when the wood ducks perched on the house roof but all the song birds were of course imprinted on people... My mother was a therapist and her clients coming up the walk to her home office had to steel themselves to have the occasional grackle, jay, robin, chickadee, etc. swoop down and land on their head or shoulders. I, who have no fear of birds, was charmed by this. Needless to say, my mother was a saint... and one of her clients said you knew your nerves had improved when you could get to her office without shrieking.
Link, I adore asparagus (send it this way, Claire!) and reading that long thread made me yearn to write something about what this wonderful board has taught me. I have written part in my head during milking. Perhaps I'll have a moment to actually type it out soon. In the meantime, warmest wishes to all. You are the best.
gratefully,
Selden