Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘birds’

Hello, my fellow Crows and assorted Others.  Today we are reviewing “Not By Accident: Reconstructing A Careless Life”. by author Samantha Dunn.

You can click the link below, or just pop over to the review page.  Enjoy!

Bobby’s Bi-weekly Book Review

I have to make dinner, the Humans are working late, so my apologies for rushing off.  You can see I have my hands full, below.

DSCN0335a

Ahh, folks? Are we out of Garlic Salt? I am looking everywhere, dammit!

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

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...

 

Read Full Post »

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

Read Full Post »

  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

Read Full Post »

I know I have never finished the first post on the story of how Tomas and I became the parents of a crow, it may just have to go into the memoir section of my web page. Bobby has lived with us for six years, and every day he is up to something new to drive me insane with love or a desire to strangle him. And Tomas, being “The Dad”, never wanted children because deep down, he always knew music would come first. We both knew we would not be good parents to a human, albeit for different reasons.

HOWEVER, as I write this, Bobby is cawing like a madman, I think he is trying to find his girlfriend, and Tomas is wrestling with a difficult cue. But he loves the Bob, and luckily he can tune him out, and Bobby has no interest in marching into the studio and demanding attention.

With all of the disagreements we have, The Bob and I are both in agreement on one issue:

We despise Ann Coulter.

This does not make us unique, but I have an extra added bonus. Ann Coulter looks like my sister Shannon Mahan, and uses her blond leggy sex appeal in exactly the same way as Shannon, whom I am also less than fond of. But I have to kind of feel sorry for my sister, because all of my personal feelings about her aside, she is in with the majority of Americans who abhor this administration. AND SHE LOOKS LIKE ANN COULTER!!!
That is just the Universe being mean to my sister, but the bad devil side of me gets a bit of a kick out of it sometimes. Poor Shannon. How do you reconcile finding something funny, but feeling bad about it? Chocolate?

However, this is not about Shannon, again, our relationship will be covered in memoirs, down the line. I have some great memories of her, and often wonder what happened to her to cause her to be a certain way later in life. A certain way that, from my perspective, was unkind. I have my own responsibilities in our break from each other, which I chose to do, and I will be owning up to them. I will not do a hatchet job on my sister, as much as my anger at her wants me to.

This post is about Bobby the Crow and how politically proactive he is. I was changing his papers the other day, and happened upon a picture of dear old Annie Coltie, she was speaking somewhere, the L.A. times reported, “to wild applause”. Gee, do you think it was her legs and hair, or her putrid spew that was causing such enthusiasm? Go fellas!
Everyone knows that most men (and this is not a bash, even they admit it) hear very little of what women say when they are flashing you with whatever “come-hither” ammo they have at their disposal, and Lord knows, Annie the Republican Stick Chick has LOTS to work with. Very pretty, very smart, very hateful, and very wily.
She is not special, either, and she has every right to laugh at us. But someday, poor Ann Coulter will have cellulite, saggy breasts, crows feet, (sorry Bobby, it’s just an expression, your feet are cute) all of the swell stuff that happens when we get OLD!
Ann will have enough money to plastic surgery away much of this, but then she will look weird, as everybody does when they try too hard to stay young.

I have nothing against a little here, a little there, to make one’s self feel better, but when a person relies on her beauty to get the attention he or she needs, they usually go too far, and just look odd, sometimes kind of scary.

I have the sense that Ann Coulter is smart enough to know that if she wants to keep this nonsense up, she has to stay beautiful, and she will most likely go overboard with the plastic surgery. Then what she says will be in the spotlight, not her body and her hair. She will fade into the sunset, and be forgotten before the finale, where she gets to talk to her particular brand of Jesus.

I probably won’t live long enough to see it, but……let the silly twit enjoy her time. In the big picture, she is as meaningless as Paris Hilton.

SO, speaking of silly twits, here is how Bobby and I are proactive in our beliefs. I put the picture in the paper of Ann Coulter down right where he poops the most, and enjoy watching her image slowly fade away under a pile of bird shit.

Totally petty, totally silly, but dammit, I make myself laugh.
And to quote Craig Ferguson, “If it makes me laugh, that’s half the battle.”

Bobby D., Political Crow.

Read Full Post »

About six years ago, my husband, Indie film composer Tomas Hradcky (He went by Tomas Hart back then) and I were stuck in five o’ clock traffic in Santa Monica, hot and hungry and tired and inching along so slowly that at one point I closed my eyes and imagined the future, right on 26th and Arizona Ave, looking just the same, except with all of the cars hosting mummified corpses a la Stephen King’s “The Stand”. We were just trying to get to Quizno’s, the entrance to the parking lot was a mere ten feet away, but we were going to die of hunger before we got there. (Los Angelinos, you KNOW I am not exaggerating).

Out of the corner of my right eye, as I was sliding down towards an ugly death, I noticed a crow on the ground, rummaging about in an overturned garbage bin, then stalking away, his left wing dragging at an unnatural angle.

I had once tried to catch and help a hurt crow – their wing(s) might be hurt, but their Lance Armstrong legs are formidable. I was alone when I tried to catch the first one, and he could outrun Jackie-Joyner-runner-lady.

(No, I do not watch sports, shut up).

He was dashing across very busy Venice Boulevard, and nearly got hit twice. I gave up, with great regret. I was just making the situation worse.

So, when I saw this Santa Monica boy, I just felt sad and helpless and didn’t say anything.

Tomas piped up.

“Did you see that poor guy? We should – ”

I shook my head, explaining that it was impossible.

“But there’s two of us,” my normally worst-case-scenario husband said hopefully.

All the while Mr. Hurt Crow was marching west down Arizona Ave., away from us.

“Any ideas about how to get out of this mess and down to Santa Monica Boulevard, make a right, then another right, to come up Arizona, and do you really think he is just going to be walking down the street?”

Tomas’s eyebrows lowered, but strangely, not at me.

“Yes, I do,” he said, teeth gritting.

Before I could make another tired, semi-sarcastic remark, we were driving on the sidewalk.

My always-on-his-best-behavior-driver husband was on a mission. His quiet insanity had finally exploded.

I figured it was best to keep my mouth shut for a change and see what was going to happen.

Read Full Post »