My Lovely Cockatiel

Warning! Out of control parenthesis ahead!

So today I saw a red-tailed hawk screaming and I looked overhead to see the poor guy getting the crap mobbed out of him by three red-winged blackbirds and two starlings. To add insult to injury a small squadron of swallows were tailing the tail (har har) clicking angrily. I thought to myself, "Dude, I hear ya."

It's been one of those days, people needing spare parts that are hard to get hold of, my inventory is out of control, my new fridge for mealworms leaked and soaked a new shipment of worms (nothing like coming back from time off to fungusy stanky mealworms) and the mealworms that were most recently shipped are of iffy quality. I swear, I spend half my time correcting shipments.

So I am unwinding by sippin' some scotch that's half my age and listening to songs with my cockatiel Kabuki:

Yes, I'm exposing my dark secret. I am harboring a non-native species in my apartment--a lutino cockatiel. Bill and I keep threatening to graft a peacock feather on his tail so he will be a peacockatiel.

Anyway, digging around on the internet I discovered The Happy Cockatiel site where a guy has written songs inspired by his own birds' songs. Our personal favorite is Newton's Song which reminds me of one of my favorites songs My Lovely Horse from the Father Ted tv series.

I'm concerned birders are losing their sense of humor. I posted a story on one of the listservs I lurk on about an ivory-billed woodpecker viewing platform that was set on fire in Arkansas. I made the remark that it could have been vigilante birders not wanting unethical birders to view the bird (that's been a huge concern in the birding community that some birders are risking birds lives by over viewing them--my personal jury is still out on that one. Part of me thinks some birders have nothing better to do than tell people how they should properly watch birds (I find these are usually people who think listing is a terrible form of birding) and the other part of me has witnessed birders crossing a line). See I warned you--parenthesis amok.

Anyway, it was suggested to not even jest about the image of vigilante birders, which quite honestly makes me laugh harder. The idea that there is a gang of ninja like birders stalking about the woods in their unflattering, big pockets emphasizing large posteriors, swathed in khaki from head to toe with a jaunty wrap of mosquito netting about the face, pants tucked in socks wreaking havoc to keep people from seeing good birds practically makes me pee my pants. Birders have cool James Bondesqe equipment--scopes, binos, gps, packs full of nifty gadgets and snacks but we just never look suave. You would think that birders would be masters of a sexy stealthy walk to sneak up on birds, but alas we look awkward and dork and are surprisingly noisy.