Graehstone

judygram wrote: Who have you been talking to? What have they been saying? It's not true, they're all lies, LIES I tell you (er, 'cept that time in Paris, that actua... ) {glad you like them. }<br><br>Post edited by: Graehstone, at: 2008/05/22 02:30

Here's this cool little spider dude that I ah ... met, when we were still living in the apartment. Hope you like it. I was Attacked! The wife is at work and I was doing the dishes as the last of the chores for the day with the birds all on their respective playgrounds being good when something caught my eye outside the window on the railing. I paused mid swish while still holding the frying pan that still needed cleaning and squinted my eyes a little more to get a better look at what was crawling its way along the side of the railing then on top of the railing and then the bottom of the railing and … so I dropped my pan which promptly fell into the sink with all the icky dish water still in it making a big splash sending it all over my new t-shirt that I had put on clean this morning. Ignoring all that and trying not to break my neck on the now slippery floor as I rushed to get my camera I hurried out the door in the hopes I could get a good shot of the little interloper that had caused such a stir in my household by simply flabbergasting me with his presence right outside my kitchen window. I had seen this particular critter here before but was never fast enough, or fleet of foot for that matter, to get any good pictures. But this time, ahhh yes this time, this time I got the little sucker … and he almost got me back too, putting a serious dent in my perceived manliness and drastic lowering of testosterone as the fear response kicked in flooding my system with adrenaline and making me (almost) scream like a little girl. I didn’t of course (honestly) I just … just … tripped, yes that’s it I tripped just at that moment. Well anyhow here are some of the pictures of my visitor from outside my kitchen window. And here is his flashy tushy: So I have been trying to get a good picture of this fellow forever and now that I had him "cornered" so to speak I was going to take full advantage of the situation and take some close ups ... Big mistake. Ok so here we go, Macro on ... all the right settings set to where they are suppossed to sit ... punchbowl full ... dance ticket... wait ... that's something else... Ok, anyhow ... See now that's not so bad ... just a tad closer and ... Getting a little interested in the goings on on the railing and wanting to check it out ... "Ok Buddy, too close, too close" I hear him think at me in a raspy little voice as those hairy little legs start to reach for me and I see fangs dripping with venom ready to tear my jugular right out and jump rope with it ... When right out of nowhere I hear that Tarzan yell in my head and the little bugger launches himself at me ... causing me to trip of course, because I wanted to get closer and there was this crack in the concrete ... anyhow. After regaining my composure a bit (and picking up the camera again) I looked to see where he might have landed so as not to step on him when there he was, right where I had left him staring me right in the eyes as if to say "I warned you buddy!" I would have loved to stay and play some more but ... ah ... um, I still had the frying pan to clean. Sigh, a househusbands work is never done. :blush:

I posted this on a board very similar to this one a few years ago but with body art being the main theme and it's something that I wrote right after I came home from the longest Tattoo session that I have ever sat through in one whack, five hours of ... let's just say intense introspection. As I sit here in front of my computer, ensconced in my private little jungle realm that I have created for myself, my feathered Family perched on my shoulders and my collection of Gargoyle statuary leering down at me, Glaring ... questioning. I am struck with the reality of what has transpired the nights before. The almost surreal events that move me to bare myself to you. I thought of you, all of you, as I sat and endured and gloried. It was close ... very close. I could feel that ever so small thin shimmer of air being moved as it hovered there, gently caressing the fine hairs on my skin that had escaped the Razor as it made its way down my body slashing and obliterating everything uneven in its wake. That ... oh so slight vibration that titillates you with visions of things yet to come. I shiver ... and hope no one noticed. It was close ... very close. That reaper of my flesh, the liberator of my pain, the measuring cup of my character. That vessel that elevates me to heights never before dreamed of, and brings me crashing down in the blink of an eye. The feather, that meanders its lazy way along the contours of my body as it lovingly strokes one area and then another. Always leaving me in a state of apprehension and anticipation. Fearing and lusting at the same time. It was close ... That one fraction of a second before it all begins ... That peel of thunder in your head as you wait with bated breath for the strike of lightning that will sear your flesh for all eternity. That instrument that will indelibly mark you as one who has faced the inner Dragon and allows the world to see you victorious. It was close ... The soother of my soul, my Savior and my Executioner. My Pleasure and my Pain. It lingers ... savoring the moment. It floats on ethereal wings biding its time. Allowing the visions in my mind to expand. Preparing me for that which will forever change the "Who" and "What” I am. Then ... as I think that I can take no more. The first kiss. Penetration. The visions in my mind explode in a crescendo of color and sound as the Needle and I meld into one single being. Indistinguishable from one another. A unity. Metamorphosis. Birth and Death. As the steel and skin embrace each other, I die a thousand deaths only to emerge stronger. I LIVE! I THRIVE! I am "One" with all there is. There is a certain Madness inherent in all this. But this too is a part of who and what I am. Argue for your limitations and surely enough they are yours. That "line" of endurance one sets for oneself is quickly reached, begging to be prolonged and dreading every second that extends beyond your threshold. I have nothing to prove to anyone. I have a need. A need to test my mettle. To see if I am who I have always thought I was or if I have it in me to become more. I have seen past the Horizon and was blinded, only to find that I am now able to "see" with clarity of vision that goes beyond the mere expansion and dilation of my pupils. As I sit here reflecting on past "pleasures" I look at the map that is my body. I see slopes and valleys that are barren. I see crags and crevices that are unadorned. I am not complete. The road ahead is long that I travel. But travel it I will.

DigitalFeather wrote: I sooo understand where you are coming from and have seriously been there and done that. I too had lots of problems dealing with that kind of mentality (which is prevalent all over the world) and have slowly come to grips with the fact that I have to love living with myself and then those that are close to my heart will love me for the what and who that I have become over the years, as we are ever evolving individuals. I have my "clan/tribe" even if it only consists of my wife (the very air that I breathe) and my birds, I am happy. I have over the years gotten many acquaintances and even a friend or two. I for one would feel very honored if you wish to share your Tats with us, but understand if you chose not to. Namaste

Ahhh spring has sprung and so have your sweeties hormones. How does that song go ..."Love is on the air ..." just pop open a nice bottle of Merlot, maybe light a candle, soft mus ... no wait, that's when the wife gets frisky ... um, ...er, ah yes back to the topic at hand. Best thing to do is to ignore this behaviour or distract from it, just don't encourage it. My Gracie does the "Hey Sailor!" thing to me all the time and as much as I'd like to just grab and cuddle her, I walk away or distract her with toys or stuff till she's either all tuckered out or the "phase" passes. It's nothing to be overly concerned about as it's just one of those things that a "Parront" has got to go through.

A Parrot Manifesto In our quest to confound our human "masters", retain our basic birdly dignity, and further our goal for world domination, we the undersigned pledge to perform the following acts. Such acts will be performed constantly or intermittently, pursuing whichever pattern causes the most human confusion and consternation. 1)Refuse to speak or perform in front of strangers. If our human has bragged about our intelligence, we will pick our noses and look especially stupid. If pressed, we may repeat, once, the nastiest four-letter word we know. 2)Ask for attention and then refuse to step up. a. Refuse to step up while repeating the words, "step up." 3)Make a great show of excitement over receiving our favorite food, then drop it. a. if the food is crunchy, drop it on the linoleum. b. if the food is damp, drop it on the carpet. c. if the food is sticky, drop it on the dog, cat, or baby 4)Poop in our bathwater. 5)Poop in our human's bathwater 6)Refuse to chew on wooden toys. Then chew on the doorframe. 7)Chew on the doorframe, then refuse to chew on wooden toys. 8)Chew holes in new t-shirts. Do not chew holes in old, ratty t-shirts. 9)Chew on our humans' favorite possessions a. crack CD cases and/or crack CDs b. chew the covers and pages of books, if the book is a murder mystery, chew up the last page. c. remove gemstones from jewelry only if genuine and swallowable d. remove keys from computer keyboards. Poop in the open space VERY IMPORTANT: do not actually destroy computer – this is the means of our revolution! 10)Suddenly be terrified of things that never bothered us before. 11)Be completely calm and disinterested in things that should frighten us. 12) Suddenly take wing and fly toward the most dangerous object in the immediate vicinity 13) Snuggle up to our human's ear, then scream While putting these actions into effect, we will not forget our ultimate goal: world domination. At midnight pacific standard time, on Wednesday, Augu…….. That's all I could save. You've been warned. (another one of my "finds", )

I am fortunate enough to have been asked to write the poem for a non profit org that puts out a Parrot calendar every year. The year that I was asked to write the first poem the theme was longevity. Here is what I wrote, I hope you like it. A Good Life I know what your Grandpa did And your papa too When I was hatched from my egg Back in forty two I saw him kiss your mom Way before they wed The big day of the Prom And all the things they said The day that you were born I was there to see you cry Then I, in my loyalties, was torn When you looked me in the eye I’ll live to see you marry And have a kid or three But before I grow too weary And life will set me free There’s something I must say to you Before I spread my wings and fly There’s nothing I would change or do A life of love and peace had I I loved your Grandpa and your Dad And of course I loved you too And all the good times that I’ve had Starting that day in ‘forty two Graehstone<br><br>Post edited by: Graehstone, at: 2008/05/21 21:09

I am so glad that you liked it but I am truly not the author of this fine story, although I wish I were. It's just something that I had found a long time ago and never let go again and love to share it wherever I go.

What are the books that you have (dealing with Parrots/birds) collected over the years? Here is my "Have" list: (I provided ISBN number as well for easier research, just type in the number in your favorite search engine, ie; google, yahoo and it will tell you all about the book) The Grey Parrot Wolfgang de Grahl ISBN 0866220941 Parrots of the World Joseph M. Forshaw ISBN 0876669593 The African Grey Parrot Handbook Mattie Sue Athan & Dianalee Deter ISBN 0764109936 Guide to the Senegal Parrot and its Family Mattie Sue Athan & Dianalee Deter ISBN 0764103326 The Cockatiel Julie Rach ISBN 0876055269 Your First Cockatiel Dr. J. E. Lohr ISBN 0866220607 A Step by Step Book about Cockatiels Anmarie Barrie ISBN 086622453X The Essential Cockatiel Pamela Leis Higdon ISBN 1582450277 First Aid for Birds Julie Rach & Gary A. Gallerstein D.V.M. ISBN 0876055315 The Complete Bird Owners Handbook Gary A. Gallerstein D.V.M. ISBN 0876059035 The Complete Pet Bird Owners Handbook New edition Gary A. Gallerstein D.V.M. ISBN 1895270251 ... my girls Vet btw. B) The Parrot Who Owns Me Joanna Burger ISBN 0375760253 Guide to Companion Parrot Behavior Mattie Sue Athan ISBN 0764106880 Guide to a Well Behaved Parrot Mattie Sue Athan ISBN 0764110306 Feeding your Pet Bird Petra Burgman D.V.M. ISBN 0812015215 The Ultimate Parrot Barrett Watson & Mike Hurley ISBN 0764561022 The Alex Studies Irene Pepperberg ISBN 067400051X The Pleasure of Their Company (An Owners Guide to Parrot Training) Bonnie Munro Doane & Richard Cole ISBN 0876055943 Ravens in Winter Bernd Heinrich ISBN 0679732365 Mind of the Raven Bernd Heinrich ISBN 0060930632 Spix’s Macaw The Race to Save the World’s Rarest Bird Tony Juniper ISBN 074347550x Sally Blanchard’s Companion Parrot Handbook Sally Blanchard ISBN 096712980X Sally Blanchard’s The Beak Book Sally Blanchard ISBN 0967129818 The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill Mark Bittner ISBN 0609610554 Conversations with an Eagle Brenda Cox ISBN 1550548115 Your Outta Control Bird Nikki Moustaki IBSN 0793829259 The New Encyclopedia of American Birds David Alderton ISBN 0681643048 Birds of North America Fred J. Alsop III ISBN 078949373X Parrot Culture Our 2500-Year-Long Fascination with the World’s Most Talkative Bird Bruce Thomas Boehrer ISBN 0812227935 The Healthy Bird Cookbook A Lifesaving Nutritional Guide and Recipe Collection Robin Deutsch ISBN 0793805384 ****************************************** And here is the list of books that I still would like to get at some point in time. Some of these suckers cost an arm and a leg. The Complete Parrot Arthur Freud ISBN 0876059051 Handbook of Birds, Cages & Aviaries ABK publications ISBN 0958710295 The Bird Care Book Sheldon L Gerstenfeld D.V.M. ISBN 0201095599 Diseases of Caged Birds Elisha W. Burr D.V.M. ISBN 0813803624 The Parrot in Health and Illness an Owners Guide Bonnie Munro Doane ISBN 0876058268 A Guide in Basic Health & Disease in Birds Michael J. Cannon BVCs MACVS ISBN 0957702450 Psittacine Aviculture Richard M Schubol, Kevin J Clubb & Susan L Clubb D.V.M. ISBN 0963142402 Aviculture in Australia Mark Shepard ISBN 0958810605 Psitticulture Tony Silva ISBN 1895270022 The Atlas of Parrots Dr. D Alderton ISBN 0866221204 African Birds in Field and Aviary ARU (Avicultural Research Unit) ISBN 0620214384 Encyclopedia of Cockatiels George S Smith ISBN 0876669585 African Parrots Rick Jotdan & Jean Pattison ISBN 888394446 Parrots and Related Birds Henry J Bates & Robert L Busenbark ISBN 0876669674 So there you have my "library" ... whatcha got?

Once there was a forest of many colors. The trees were green. They were gold and orange. They were yellow and red in their season. In the fawning time the trees bloomed. They were hung with ropes of flowers! They were green altars garlanded with color! The smell of the flowers was a prayer to heaven. The flowers were many colors, too. They were white and apricot. They were pink and plum. They were blue and yellow and purple and bronze. The flowers were courted by bees. They came in colors, too. They were yellow and black; fuzzy and brown. Spiders sat in the flowers and waited for the bees. They were even more colorful than the flowers! Some spiders had eight bright green eyes each! Some had blue eyes. They wore fine suits of many colors and striped stockings on their eight legs. Butterflies came to drink from the flowers with their long tongues. Yellow butterflies drank from blue morning glories. Blue butterflies drank from red hibiscus. Giant green moths flew about in crowds, gathering for a dance. All the butterflies carried the rainbow with them all through the forest. After the bees had visited the flowers the trees made fruit. Clusters and clusters of fruits hung on the trees. Purple it hung, and red. Yellow and orange. And palest green blushed with pink. Soon the forest smelled of too-ripe fruit. Then the flies came. Flies flew from tree to tree carrying blue and green with them. Over the forest the sky stretched. It was a blue cloth with a yellow circle. At night it was an azure box full of diamonds! But the most colorful thing in the forest was its birds. Bright among the branches they sang. Living dots of color they climbed. Shimmering pallets of nature they flew among the shadows. The birds had all the colors of the trees. They had all the colors of the flowers, too. They had all the colors of the bees, the butterflies, and the spiders. And God was very pleased with His creation when He watched His birds twirling below. God loved His living top spinning in the forest He had made. But a Little Gray Parrot lived in the forest. She alone had no color. Even the gray doves had bright red feet! But the Little Gray Parrot had gray feet. Her beak was gray, and her wings were gray. All her feathers were gray, too. One day the Little Gray Parrot looked out of her gray eyes at all the colors spread in the forest below. She looked up at the blue sky, pale and dark. And she thought, "I am the only one in the whole forest that has no color. God is pleased by the prayers of the fruiting trees. He is pleased by the beautiful butterflies and bees. How can I ever give Him anything if I have no color?" The Little Gray Parrot thought about it all day. She dreamed about it all night. She was still thinking about it the next morning when the Jungle Bird woke her up. "The Jungle Bird is very beautiful," said the Little Gray Parrot. "He wears a green shawl over his red velvet vest. He wears gold buttons and sharp orange lace-up boots. I will go to him and ask him to give me some of his color." And the Little Gray Parrot got her little red wagon. "I will put all the colors he gives me in my wagon and bring them home," she said. "Then I will be so beautiful heaven will notice me!" So the Little Gray Parrot started walking toward the sound of the Jungle Bird who was still singing to the sun. She pulled her little red wagon behind her through the forest. Soon she came to a tree stump. The Jungle Bird was standing on the stump calling to his brother in the sky. He stamped his orange feet on his stage and rose up very tall. He called so loud his shiny red wattles shook. He opened his yellow eyes very wide, and crowed. Wrapped in his cloak of black, purple, green and gold he sang, "I! Me, me, me, I! I! Me, me, me, I!" When the Jungle Bird stopped singing the Little Gray Parrot said, "Jungle Bird, you sing a very beautiful song. You have the color of the sky in your tail. The soles of your feet shine like the sun. Your red head glistens with the warm color. Your throat is wrapped in green. I am a very plain parrot. Please give me some of your colors so I can be beautiful, too." But the Jungle Bird only rose up on his long orange toes. He opened his yellow beak tipped with black. And he sang, "I! Me, me, me, I! I! Me, me, me, I!" The Little Gray Parrot stamped her small gray foot. But the Jungle Bird continued to sing his song to the sun. Finally, the Jungle Bird shook his head to rearrange his wattles and jumped down from his perch. The Little Gray Parrot fluffed her gray feathers. She said, "Jungle Bird. You sing a very conceited song." The Jungle Bird preened a blue feather in his tail. Then he preened a green one. Then a bronze. Finally he answered the Little Gray Parrot. "Do you think so?" was all he said. "Yes," said the Little Gray Parrot. "For you are singing about yourself." The Jungle Bird walked to the Little Gray Parrot. He circled her and looked at her empty wagon. He pecked on the wagon. It rang like a cymbal. He stood very tall and near to the Little Gray Parrot, and she began to regret her words. But the Jungle Bird was a king in his realm, and he simply said, "Little Gray Parrot, my song is about me. I wake the sun up every morning so it will shine on men. I sing about my place on the earth. I remind man of his place, too. We are all so high. If man knew his own worth, the forest would be full of my song every morning! Every throat would cry out, singing my song." The Little Gray Parrot looked at the Jungle Bird. She knew what he said was true. The Little Gray Parrot bowed her head and said, "Jungle Bird, everyone says how beautiful you are. And it is true. Your brilliant tail sweeps the ground mixing the rainbow with dust. But, your true beauty is in reminding man that he is not dust. You rise while it is yet dark to do this service. Please forgive me." The Jungle Bird clucked slightly in his throat and said, "I have promised my hens some grubs today, so I must go." And he left. Mother’s green arms embraced him, and he was gone. The Little Parrot said, "I came to beg some beautiful colors from the Jungle Bird to take home. But his true beauty is in his service. I will put that in my wagon instead." And she did, and pulled the little red wagon behind her down the path. The Little Gray Parrot made quite a sound pulling her red wagon through the dry leaves! From high up in the trees the Scarlet Parrot looked down to see what all the noise was about. "Hello!" he called. Then he mimicked the wagon wheels. And he made the sound of the crunching leaves. He was so clever the Little Gray Parrot stopped on the path. She listened carefully for her echo. But she heard nothing. As soon as she started to pull her red wagon again, she heard the Scarlet Parrot mocking her high up in the trees. "Scarlet Parrot! I was looking for you," said the Little Gray Parrot. "You are very beautiful. Your color is of fire, red and gold, yellow and brightness! Your eyes are ringed in silver, and your wings are cobalt arrows! Please, may I have some of your colors? Then I will be beautiful, too." But the Scarlet Parrot simply mimicked the monkey jabbering in the tree. He babbled like the brook, and roared like a chainsaw! He sang like all the birds, at once! He barked like a dog and growled like a tiger! The Little Gray Parrot stamped her small gray foot. "You are very rude," she said. "Why do you make such a fuss, and repeat everything you hear? What good is that?" But the Scarlet Parrot laughed like a girl child. He cried like a piglet. Finally he said, "I record everything in the forest. Man must work hard all day and night. He does not have time to listen to the birds singing. He does not have time to remember what dangers lie here. I record all these things for the time man will ask me for them. When he is sad, I will sing like the nightingale–even at noon! When he is careless, I will speak in the tiger’s tongue to make him wary." The Little Gray Parrot hung her head. She felt ashamed for her words, and said, "You are right, Scarlet Parrot. You are the most beautiful of all parrots. But your true beauty is in being a storehouse of knowledge. I came to ask you for some of your colors, but I will put your wisdom in my red wagon instead." And the Little Gray Parrot did, and walked on through the forest. Of a sudden the Little Gray Parrot heard a bird talking like a clock. "Cuckoo!" he said. "Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!" The Little Gray Parrot stopped to listen. She stood beneath the green umbrella of a palm. She turned her gray eyes to the blue sky. She searched among and between the green leaves and their gray/black shadows. Finally the Little Gray Parrot found a bright black and white bird shining in the shadows. The Little Gray Parrot sat on the edge of her red wagon and admired him for a full minute. Then she raised her wing politely. "Cuckoo Bird," she said, "Why are you so happy today, filling the trees with noon and dinner songs?" The Cuckoo Bird closed his beak and hopped to a branch an inch from the Little Gray Parrot’s gray beak, and said, "I am very happy. I have five new babies, all fat and healthy, and I am going on a vacation tomorrow." The Little Gray Parrot looked into the eye of the father Cuckoo Bird. He did not look tired. He looked well rested and full of life, so the Little Gray Parrot said, "Your babies must be very good indeed! You have slept well lately, and your breast feathers are sleek and smooth. You would hardly know you have five babies to take care of. You must be very proud!" The father Cuckoo Bird replied, "Oh, I am very proud! They are all so beautiful, and so big each one fills a whole nest!" The Little Gray Parrot was astounded. "Every baby has his own nest?" she asked. She remembered when she was small she had warm brothers and sisters around her like a blanket. "How wonderful," said the Little Gray Parrot. "Can I see your babies?" The Cuckoo Bird puffed up with pride, "Oh surely," he said, "Here is one above us in this tree. And the others are scattered like leaves throughout the forest." The Little Gray Parrot looked high up in the tree. In a crooked crotch she saw a neat, small nest nestled against the black bark. A big chick spilled over the edges of the nest. His mouth gaped open, red and yellow like a flower. He demanded food loudly, and soon a small Yellow Wren flew to him and stuffed his beak with worms and bugs. The Little Gray Parrot could hardly believe her eyes, for this was the very Yellow Wren she was looking for to ask for her color! The Yellow Wren flew away but soon came back. Again the Yellow Wren stuffed the young cuckoo with food. The Yellow Wren did this several times and the Little Gray Parrot watched in amazement. Finally the Little Gray Parrot said, "Cuckoo Bird, why does someone else feed your baby? Why don’t you feed him?" "What a stupid question!" said the Cuckoo Bird. "I’m going on vacation tomorrow!" And he flew away. The Little Gray Parrot was amazed! When the Yellow Wren came back the Little Gray Parrot called out to her, "Yellow Wren! Yellow Wren! May I ask you a question?" The Yellow Wren first fed the young cuckoo, then flew down and sat on a springy shrub close to the Little Gray Parrot. "You must be quick," she said. "As you see, I have a baby to feed and cannot talk long." "I see you are feeding the Cuckoo Bird’s baby," said the Little Gray Parrot. "I came all this way through the forest to ask you for some of your beautiful yellow color, but now you are tired. Your feathers don’t shine like they used to. You used to be a spot of sun on a leaf, but now you are dull and used. Why do you spend all your energy feeding the Cuckoo Bird’s baby until you are no longer beautiful? Don’t you think that is a stupid thing to do?" The Yellow Wren looked long at the Little Gray Parrot. The Little Gray Parrot began to regret her words. Then the Yellow Wren lit on the ground beside the Little Gray Parrot. She smiled at the Little Gray Parrot an old, earth-worn smile and said, "Little Gray Parrot. What is in my nest is mine. When a baby cries for food I cannot be deaf. It is life calling to me. If I do not answer I have taken the bony hand of death into my own. We walk through the forest and only dry, spent leaves are in our path. I will not befriend him. Any life that comes to me I will preserve. I am often second in my own life. But in this, first in the earth. Do you understand?" The Little Gray Parrot hung her head, and then looked at the Yellow Wren from her bright gray eye. "I do understand," she whispered, "I think you must be the smartest bird in all the forest! You give life, and that is the greatest thing on all the earth! You are a Mother, and love with a mother’s heart. This is your true beauty, more radiant than yellow feathers. Your heart is yellow and warm as the sun. I will put this in my red wagon instead of a yellow feather." And she did. The young cuckoo began calling again for the Yellow Wren, and she kissed the Little Gray Parrot on the tip of her gray beak and flew away. The Little Gray Parrot watched her fly to her baby and again pulled her red wagon through the forest. "I only have one more bird to find," said the Little Gray Parrot. "But he is the most beautiful of all!" And the Little Gray Parrot went into the deepest shade of the forest, for that is where the Peacock lived. The Little Gray Parrot pulled her red wagon through the quiet darkness. She tugged and tugged it over tangles of roots and fallen branches. Soon the Little Gray Parrot was tired and stopped to rest. She sat on a fallen log and admired the green museum walls around her. Her gray eyes fell on Monet and Manet, and Van Gogh hiding in a corner painting daisies. Of a sudden the Little Gray Parrot heard a loud voice booming through the trees. "Ku-wow! Ku-wow! Ku-wow!" it said. It sang like Big Ben, it rang like Liberty! The Little Gray Parrot was very pleased. This was the voice of the Peacock, and she followed his song along a crooked path until she found him sitting in a flowering tree. How beautiful the Peacock was! His neck was like the sky, and it shimmered like water! On his head he wore a crown that bobbed around on long stalks growing from his brow. And his tail was made of thousands of green, blue and golden eyes, each looking in a different part of the forest. And when the Peacock danced his tail rustled like a bride’s dress, and all her ladies’ together! Surely the Peacock could spare a feather for the Little Gray Parrot to make God happy. Soon the Peacock jumped down from his perch. He gathered the ball-gown of his tail around himself, and began to tap his yellow feet lightly. Dust rose around his yellow ankles, and dry leaves too. In figure eights the Peacock danced, life on the parched earth. Green like Mother he was, and Blue like Father too, mixing the two worlds. The Little Gray Parrot watched the Peacock for a while feeling something akin to envy. Then she said, "Peacock! How beautiful you dance!" The Peacock stopped his stamping on the ground and looked at the Little Gray Parrot. "Thank you," he said, and resumed his dancing. Dust sprang up from the ground and mingled gold and green, and the Peacock danced and danced. The Little Gray Parrot was bewildered. "Peacock," she said, "I do not understand. People say you dance a beautiful dance when you are thankful for the rain." The Peacock bobbed his head beneath his crown. "Yes," he said, "I am thankful for the rain." The Peacock circled the Little Gray Parrot. He dropped one gold wingtip into the dust and drummed hollowly. "I am thankful for the rain," he sang as he danced. "Thank you God for the rain," he sang. The Little Gray Parrot coughed and brushed the dust from her feathers. The Peacock’s dance was very dusty indeed! The Little Gray Parrot watched the Peacock dance. Finally she could not contain herself. She stamped her small gray foot and said, "Peacock! How can you be thankful for the rain? It has not rained for several weeks, and people say we are in a drought!" The Little Gray Parrot thought the Peacock was certainly silly! The Peacock stopped dancing. He cocked his head to one side. Then he cocked his head to the other. Finally he said, "I am thankful for the rain even when it does not come. Should I only pray when I get my way?" he asked. The Little Gray Parrot looked at the Peacock. He was very beautiful with his backdrop of tail. He was beauty standing on two long, long legs. Finally the Little Gray Parrot sighed and said, "You are right, Peacock. We should be grateful whatever the weather. I came to ask for one of your beautiful feathers for you are rightly called the most beautiful bird in the forest. But your gratitude is more beautiful still. I will put that in my red wagon instead." And she did. The Peacock nodded to the Little Gray Parrot. His blue crown bobbed on the stalks on his head, and he began to dance again. The Little Gray Parrot turned her red wagon around and said, "Thank you, Peacock. I must go now for it will soon be dark and it is a long walk home." The Little Gray Parrot could hear the Peacock singing as she pulled her red wagon through the forest. The wishing star was already in the sky when she got home, and she was very tired as she put her red wagon away. "I don’t have any more color now than I had this morning," she said. "My wagon is empty except for the ideas I put there. I will never be able to please God as much as the colorful birds do." She was very tired as she climbed into her bed high up in the tree. It was not long before she fell sound asleep as Mother drew her cobalt and white bed curtains around her. But God was still awake. He had watched the Little Gray Parrot pulling her red wagon all day. He watched her as she talked to the Jungle Bird and the Scarlet Parrot. He watched her as she talked to the Yellow Wren and the Peacock. And God was very pleased with the Little Gray Parrot for trying to please Him, and he looked down on her gray head sleeping on her gray bed and said, "My Little Gray Parrot. You went to ask the other birds to give you things to make you worthy of Me. But you could see what was truly beautiful in my creation. You gathered the most pleasing things into your wagon, although it appears to be empty. For this reason I will have you pull your red wagon behind you for the rest of time. In this way everyone on earth will know how you have pleased Me." But the Little Gray Parrot simply slept, dreaming of the creation of stars. She woke again the next day to the voice of the Jungle Bird calling his brother into the sky. The Little Gray Parrot was still tired from the long walk of the day before. She was still disappointed she had no gifts for God. But she was a good little parrot, and got up to groom herself as she had been taught. Like the other parrots the Little Gray Parrot wore a little comb inside her beak to comb her feathers, and she began to preen and stretch her wings. How long and sleek her flight feathers were! How soft the storm-cloud gray feathers on her belly! After the Little Gray Parrot combed the feathers on her legs; she turned her head around to comb her back. But what a surprise! The Little Gray Parrot could hardly believe her gray eyes! For, much to her amazement, her tail had turned bright, bright red! She stared and stared at her new shining tail. But it did not change at all; it stayed bright red! It was redder than the Scarlet Parrot! It was red just like her wagon! All that day the Little Gray Parrot looked at her tail. When she walked through the forest she looked back to make sure it had not changed back to gray. And that night she tucked her beak under her wing looking back at her tail. All night she opened her eyes to look at her tail. But even the darkness did not change it back to gray. Even in the night the Little Gray Parrot’s tail was red. How happy the Little Gray Parrot was now! She had the most beautiful red tail in all the forest! And to this day her tail is bright, bright red. And to this day it follows her everywhere she walks, swaying back and forth behind her just like a red wagon. Author Falco, Timneh African Grey

Oh I too am soooo glad that I did that ... it basically came down to I either quit and get a bird or I continue and don't, Katrin let me decide ... Ruby won out. B)

Major Kudos to those of you that have quit!! I had that nasty habit for twenty four years and tried everything to quit, nothin' doin'. Then one day I just got so sick and tired of myself, not to mention disgusted at putting an ashtray at my wifes mouth every time I wanted to kiss her. So I quit, one day to the next, tossed it all out. The first three days were hell but after that it was out of my body and only remained in my head. I was going to be damned if I couldn't "out think/trick" the dude in my own head, and so now after ... after, well heck, it's been so long that I don't even remember anymore, it's that an unimportant part of my life now, suffice it to say that it has been many many years now. My hat goes off to those that have rid themselves of this particular demon.<br><br>Post edited by: Graehstone, at: 2008/05/21 16:55

spookyhurst wrote: I took her off of it as I saw that it was killing what little personality and soul that she had left. She was nothing more than perch dressing and I hated it ... I saw a little person inside (albeit with problems) trying to get out and it tore me apart. She has since re-feathered then taken her tail off, then grown it back and then remove her chest feathers and then her shoulders while regrowing ... etc ... she keeps me on my toes that one, lol. She is much happier when not drugged up on that stuff.

Here is what I have on my back: There are ten birds coming out of his hands (Hummingbird, Blue Jay, Partridge, Cardinal, Dove, Quail, Snow Owl, Great Horned Owl, Hawk and Bald Eagle,) and their wing beats represent the claps between lightening strikes when the Lakota God of Thunder lets them fly before a storm. That was my first BIG one at 19 hours total, I have since added more elsewhere to others that I have had over the years.<br><br>Post edited by: Graehstone, at: 2008/05/20 21:08

I found that to be very soothing when I first came across this picture. I should be so lucky to get that old and have one of my sweeties there by my side.

ClaireBear wrote: Those are red feathers, she has a slight red factor in her that never molted entirely out. That is one of three distinct identifying marks on her should she ever get arrested and I needed to pick her out in a line up, lol.

double clicked please delete Thanks<br><br>Post edited by: Graehstone, at: 2008/05/20 18:47

Ran across this map some time ago and kept it. Thought some of you might be interested in case you have not seen this already.

... of having to chose just one ... Ok, maybe three, no wait, just two ... I might have room for... argh!! <br><br>Post edited by: Graehstone, at: 2008/05/20 18:07

Here's Gracie taking a bath in her HUGE tub, lol These were taken shortly after we got her and you can see the terrible wing trim that someone had given her. Needless to say, it's all fixed now. ... and then, "You wanna get that camera out of my butt?" Whatcha gunna do? Gotta love 'em like they are. B)

Gadzooks! I'll try to keep the pic sizes down a bit from here on. Sowwy.

There isn’t a room in the house that doesn’t have any Orchids in it including the bathrooms, but it is the kitchen window that I actually pay the least amount of attention too. That’s the one that my sweety takes care of before she goes to work in the morning (to take care of more Orchids, lol) and that’s the one that sneaks a bloom or two by me every now and then … But not this time, oooooh no, not this time, this time I paid attention (yep sure did) and even shot the little suckers. Actually I tripped, on the little rug/throw doodmahicky with my coffee cup in one hand and thirty seven and a half cookies in the other, with my face going right towards the kitchen sink, when on the way down to the floor (didn’t want to spill the coffee and make a mess that I had to clean up afterwards so I chucked everything into the sink and didn’t want to drop the cookies so I stuffed them all into my mouth) I happened to look up and see a little flash of color. “Color,” I was thinking to myself “I don’t remember having anything blooming that has color in the window.” “I’ll have to take a picture.” Thud, I’d arrived on the floor. “Ah, there’s that little (looking surreptitiously around) little … thingy … I was …” When I realized that no one other than me was at home and did not see my, graceful as ever, descent towards the floor. So after a little shoveling of crumbs into the corners and a bit of dabbing at droplets, I went and got the camera and took these. Oncidium of some sort: Edited to add name "Twinkle Fragrant Fantasy" {hybrid} ... and this next one I had to turn around to take the picture. It's a ... a ... (what did she call it .. Sofa-nitwit-titus something or other, lol) Edited to add name: Sophronitis Cernua ... oh and the windows aren't filthy, it's just raining here for the first time in a long time again. :blushing: Hope you enjoyed reliving my morning with me and hope that the rest of the week treats everyone well.<br><br>Post edited by: Graehstone, at: 2008/05/20 17:34

Here's one of the "things" that I wrote a while back that I thought to share with you as well. Nice thing about joining new groups is that I can bore new folks with my (for me) old stuff, lol. My morning in the Jungle, or “Busted for blabbering.” There I was going about my morning business in the bathroom when from the living room, where all the Jungle denizens are housed during the day, comes a timid call from either Gracie or Ruby. They are at times indistinguishable from one another in their vocalizations. Well, one call deserves another and soon the whole lot of them was, in their own way, calling to me and wanting to know just what the heck was taking so long and why didn’t I answer right away? My morning “toiletries” are on some days the only time I have to actually “sit” and read a bit and so I was engrossed in the fifth book of the Harry Potter saga when the ruckus started. Not wanting to, nor indeed able to, get up right away and go back into the living room to show them that they had not been abandoned, (which at times I am sorely tempted to do) I let them know in a louder voice than usual that I would be out in just a minute and if they would please just “Hush” and “Be quite” while I finish my business. True to their nature, that didn’t faze them at all, nope, not one bit, quite the contrary, it got them to be more insistent in their calls and need to see me back in the living room where they could keep an eye on me. So like any good parront I yelled some more. “SHUT THE HECK UP FOR A SECOND WILL YOU?” Nothing doing, no dice. So in my frustration and subsequent inability to actually “finish” my business I reached over to the sink, opened and then slammed the door to the cabinet shut creating a very loud bang. Instant silence. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. So there I was still sitting on the family throne grinning like a fool for having caused them to be silent for a bit and able to see in my minds eye just how each of them had reacted to the new noise. Heads up, eyes pinning and flashing, feathers ruffled and looking about to see where this had come from. A whole minute passed in total silence, and for them that’s a very long time, when BB, my ‘Tiel, gave a soft whistle … as a sort of checking the waters kind of call … when to my utter astonishment I heard Ruby clear as a bell tell her to “Hush,” followed by Gracie saying “Be quite” and in the background Cleo going “Oh Man!” Gracie, “Shhhhh, shhhhh” and Ruby replying “Your gunna get in trouble” and I guess that last statement was so funny to Cleo that she started to laugh like only a maniac Senegal can do, which in turn set everyone else of again killing any peace I might have had. So there you have it, busted for blabbering. Sigh, there’s always tomorrow. Now if only there was a traveling circus looking for Parrots in the area…

Well seeing as how we don't get TV and neither my sweety nor I can sing worth a darn, we do lots of craftsy things. Here's my darlin' trying to put together another toy for the monsters ... that will last all of three point six seconds. But what the heck ... you know what they say about idle hands, lmao. :blink: <br><br>Post edited by: Graehstone, at: 2008/05/19 21:40