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My buddy

 

Kelly Mahan Jaramillo and Bobby D. the Crow photo by Tomas Hradcky

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Hi All,

Its The Bob here, and as you can tell from the last few posts, my boss/mother has been cranky and confused.  Does anyone out there work for their parents?  You know, with the promise that you will be “running the Family Business” when they drop dead?

Well, the Bird does, and to be honest, I needed some time to myself.  Especially after I was ordered to review the Palin book.  That was just too much, and although Crows do not have nervous breakdowns, we have limits, LIMITS!

Anyway, I went off on Vay-cay, and I took the book I wanted to read with me.  It was not a job, it was a pleasure.

It was called “Logging Off” by Caitlin McKenna

I want to thank my few loyal readers for checking my work while I decided to take a year off and get daily mani/pedi,’s daily massages, and hourly fruity drinks.  The Bird lived like Paris Hilton for a year, but it got boring, and now I am pounding my beak – my brain was starting to atrophy!

Read The Birds Review of “Logging Off” by Caitlin Mckenna Here.

Bobby OUT!!!

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The Parents were gone for 24 hours.  They went roaring out of the house in the middle of the night on Friday, and came back after one a.m. on Saturday – I mean Sunday morning.

The bird gets confused with the humans whole “time” thing.  For me, it is morning, then it is afternoon, then it is night.  Much more simple.

So, they make all of this racket coming into the house, and I’m a-hearing snippets of ‘New York” and John and Eve” and Aminta and Michael” and “Vietnamese Food” and “The Q&A” – any other crow out there on their laptop want to tell me what might have been going on?  The cats below me were just as confused, and we did call a meeting to discuss the issue, but no light was shed.

Well, I cannot worry much about it – the Mother has been exhibiting all of the signs of guilt, and that means I can take full advantage of her.  I have been treated like a king for the last 4 days.  Still, they are waking up a little on the late side.

I think I may start screaming really loud around 6 a.m., just to get them out of bed.  After all, they are still up until midnight in the room next to mine, making all kinds of noise, which they justify as “work”.  Ha!

I would caw some more about this, but it seems to be working out quite well on the ass end of the deal, and today I am writing my first book review, so, gotta go!

But, I have some kind of clue…..these fell out of the Mothers pocket, and I quickly grabbed them.  They have been keeping secrets.  From the looks of these, those two have friends! No one ran this by us, and that is just Not. Okay.

Bobby D. The Crow

Chasama-Film-Fest_0024

I know that is the Mother on the far left. Those other two? Hmmm

Chasama-Film-Fest_0048

Oh, it may be blurry, but it is her, alright. And it looks like New York.

 

Chasama-Film-Fest_0049

Yep, the father too, looking guilty. Those Lucy's got some 'splainin' to do...

 

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Summer is hard everywhere.  My birthday is August 15th – when I try to find compassion, sympathy and understanding for my mother, what caused her to hate and abuse me, I figure she was not in the greatest spirits because she was in her last tri-mester in Summer, and flung me out in the dog days of August.

Of course, if I am to be totally honest about my severe dislike of her, I am glad she was in misery.

I guess we are both assholes. Although recently, on my end, there has been a change towards her.  It can be found on the “What Happened” blog.  This is Bobby’s blog, and he is  getting irritated that I am making it all about me, as usual.

For Bobby,  sumer is misery for him, also.  He molts in summer, and it makes him very snappy, angry, and unhappy.  Especially because he cannot fly, he molts more slowly.  I have been trying to come up with anything I can do to make him feel better, and nothing has been working all that well.  Although today, I just got a suggestion that is wonderful.  I am going to try it and will report how it goes.

In the meantime, however, please look at the picture below.  That is Bobby D the crow in August.

Robert-deNiro

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Two days ago, maybe?

The only good thing about humidity is it makes your skin look absolutely fabulous.  All of that moisture.

Otherwise, it is a misery, but the beauty is, summer only lasts for two months around here.

The forest that is our lot is so old, the leaves are really too big to fully understand when written about, so here are a few photos to have something to compare.

It is just past a year since Bullet died, and it is coming up on two years since my cat Monkey died.  I have not been able to write about Monkey, and I just got word that my friend Tara Zucker lost her cat Blanche.

Tara writes much more eloquently than I, and her life with Blanche is a beautiful chronology of how we come to love the four-legged creatures that speak so well, if only we were smart enough to understand.

My shoe size? Six and a half.  Ahem

My shoe size? Six and a half. Ahem

Hand?  Not much bigger than foot.

Hand? Not much bigger than foot.

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  For those of you who read the other blogs, you are well aware that, starting March third of this year, I had a health issue that culminated in surgery to remove an unruly fallopian tube.  The fancy name for it is serous cystadenofibroma, I call it organ misbehavior.  The fallopian tube started growing tumors, then wrapping itself around itself, cutting off blood supply, then it noticed a cyst on the ovary next door and started wrapping around IT and tugging on it!  Rude!

 I am sorry, but our insides are supposed to stay stationary, not start experimenting with boy scout knots or attacking their neighbors.  You behave in such a fashion, you get the boot.

I went from extreme good health, hiking around the steep forest hills that surround our house and almost daily intermediate Pilates workouts, to being barely able to move until two weeks after surgery, performed three weeks ago.

Needless to say, I was not having the greatest time, and was getting a bit cran-ky.

 

Day Of The Triffids......:)

Day Of The Triffids......:)

 

 

 I am almost 100% back, slowly resuming physical movement, thank God – I was going insane having to lie in bed.  Maybe when I was a young, lazy teenager in hot, smoggy Los Angeles it would have been fabulous to lie in bed for almost three months, but not now. However, my biggest issue was not being immobile, but the fact that it was my first Spring in Pitt, and it felt as if I were missing it.    

Roses on the front porch in full bloom

Roses on the front porch in full bloom

When I was in my early twenties, I lived in Minnesota for a year and a half, but it was under different circumstances, and I was nowhere near as wild about the seasons as I am now.  

view from the kitchen sink

view from the kitchen sink

Well, I have not missed Spring – it is bursting out all over the place.  Squirrels and chipmunks roaring across the front porch, rabbits leisurely hopping through the tall wild grass, munching away, baby birds making so much racket that we have to wear headphones when we are working, huge wild turkeys picking their way through our lot with great dignity, the old forest coming back to life, with leaves the size of my head fully open – ah!  

Outside the window at the top of the stairs

Outside the window at the top of the stairs

I am up and walking, and can be outside in the most beautiful weather, in the most beautiful place.  It may not be for everyone, but where we live is paradise for us.

I assume that everyone, at some point in their lives, experiences such a deep appreciation for life.  I am a bit of a Jane-come-lately to this idea of really being alive, encompassing everything that particular state of being entails,  but the upside seems to be a core joy that does not dissolve under the ups and downs of day-to-day living.    

I feel pretty damned lucky.  Hey, even Bobby the Crow has a girlfriend, a lone crow that sits in one of the trees and waits for him to be put in his big outside cage off the kitchen balcony, where they proceed to bellow at each other for hours.

 

Bobby looking for his Girlfriend

Bobby looking for his Girlfriend

 

 

 

 

 

I know it is a little late, but Happy Spring, everyone.

 

 

And Vinnie looking for Bobby.....or eating his food.  Siblings, sigh.

And Vinnie looking for Bobby.....or eating his food. Siblings, sigh.

 

 

 

 

Yesterdays Rain, off of the kitchen balcony

Yesterdays Rain, off of the kitchen balcony

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There was a rabbit. He was running around in Koreatown, Los Angeles, where I was teaching English as as Second Language.

It was July 9th, ten months after my father, Bill Mahan, died.  July 9th happened to be Bill’s  birthday.

I saw all of the students, of every level, yelling in their native language and running around in circles in ninety degree heat.

It was lunchtime, so I did not want to be the bitch teacher screaming “English, people, English!” – but I was intensely curious and needed someone to have done enough of their homework  to clue me in.

(Granted, I had purchased every student a copy of Harper Lee’s “To Kill A Mockingbird” to show them that the English language did not always translate across every state).

They were chasing a rabbit.  I knew nothing of rabbits, and I was wearing the one good pair of pants I owned.

I waded in, and saw him under the ficus, loaded for bear.  He had big teeth and an attitude.

I grabbed him, and god help me, he went quiet.  The students and other teachers were in a circle, laughing.

“Now you own him!” or “You just caught dinner!”

I knew if I brought home another animal, Tomas’s patience would wear thin.

We all got through it.

Billy “The Bullet” Mahan lived with us for about 6 years. When we decided to get out of Los Angeles for good, we had a 5-week stopover in Ojai, California.   As my faithful readers know, Bobby the Crow, Billy “The Bullet” Mahan, Vito and Vinnie the cats, Tomas and myself relaxed and gathered our wits in Ojai, and began prepping for the trip one year ago this month.

The Bullet was old, and he did not make it past the first stop over in Ojai.  He enjoyed being there for a month, and had built up quite a little fan club when people would walk by and see him in his big round pen, relaxing under the trees outside, before we would bring him in for the evening.

Local Ojai folks liked to stop at the little wooden fence and talk to him.

At dusk one night, I went out to bring him in, and he was not feeling well.  He died very suddenly about an hour later, to my shock, disbelief, and tremendous sadness.

He is buried under two huge, beautiful oak trees on the land of Lisa and John Adair.  We miss him every day.

There will never be another Bullet.

Lady? I could arrest you for hitchhiking......

"Lady? I could arrest you for hitchhiking....." .photo: Kelly Mahan Jaramillo, The Bullet

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