On I group that I belong to, someone asked the question - What element are you? I had to think a lot about this because elements can mean so many things. I like to be barefoot as much as possible. Does this mean I am earth? I love to watch the rain and I love unique glass pieces. Does this mean water? What about sitting by a campfire just staring into the flames? Fire?
Ultimately I decided on wind. I love the AC blowing in my face. I love to sit outside with my eyes closed on a windy day letting the breeze blow over me. When I needed to think, I used to love going to sit on the Boonville Bridge because there was always a breeze.
Here's my answer to the group board:
I am an aquarius but hate to swim or take long baths, but I do like to sit in the garage and watch the rain. I used to think the Aquarius sign was all about water but then I found out its element is actually air - which really seems to fit me. I love having the AC blow in my face, love to sit outside with my eyes closed on a windy day, love thunderstorms when the wind is blowing the rain and twirling the trees.
I checked out the Chinese zodiac which says I am a fire lamb/sheep. I think the lamb/sheep description fits me in the "opposite" way that it refers to - anonymity, quiet life, good book, joys of the palate (this means I like food? duh! LOL), pessimistic. I also used to be a painter and some of my stuff was pretty off the wall (now, that would be an interesting scrapbook). So I guess that part of it is right on track.
"Lamb people have good taste and are quite charming and elegant � and rich. You may find them the center of attention at a stylish dinner party, ravishing all with incomparable wit and bon mots. The opposite is also true: they are often quite shy and sometimes prefer complete anonymity, the quiet life at home with a good book, a roaring fire, and the joys of the palate. A creative flame burns in their lives and you may find them before a canvas experimenting with bright bold genius strokes of paint. Sometimes, they tend to be pessimistic and question the meaning of life, wondering "why they dwell among green mountains." They are quite often deeply religious or spiritual and quite passionate about their work and their belief."
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Thursday, July 5, 2007
It's just a dumb bird....
Monday night hubby comes home with a bird that he has found on the ground while taking his late night walk. It has a cut on its head. It's not a little bitty baby bird, but not a full grown bird. A bird that probably just started to fly and got hurt. He decides he is going to nurse it back to health (even though he is leaving for Vegas in less than 48 hours). It's mostly alert, but pretty lethargic.
We get a box lid, put a towel in it, and crush some dog food up for it. I cut down a plastic cup to a little bowl and we put some water in it. We put the box outside the back door on Lucky's pillows and hope for the best.
The next morning the bird is still in the box but is more alert. We have a friend who has a friend who is a bird rescue person so she calls her. The bird rescue person says to put it back in a bush near where he found it and the parents will come back and feed it (what? I was always told that bird parents would abandon their young if humans touched it. Hmmm....maybe a tale to keep us from playing with the birds?) Well, John is too busy to do that before Tuesday night poker. By the time we get home after poker, the bird is fiesty and will not let him pick her up. So he says she is getting better and let's just leave her here.
The next morning we get up to an empty box. YEA! The bird has flown away....not. It has moved out of the box and is now hidden between the pillow and the house. We move the pillow out and try to move the bird. Again too fiesty to let us pick her up. So we decide to just let her do her thing.
John leaves for Vegas, so now the task reverts to me to care for the little bird.
I go out later and she has moved farther out on the patio - under one of the chairs. Later in the day, I find her in the yard near the fence. I go buy bird seed for her. I come home and find her back near the house in the gutter downspout. I put some food by her. I come home again later and she is near the fence gate (the food has not been touched). She's been making the rounds around the yard. I decide it's best to move her back to her box and fluffy blanket. I get gloves on, and against her protests, I put her back in the box. Fresh water and add food. She seems to be doing pretty good - alert, moving her head around watching my every move. As I tried to pick her up she spread out her wings so I know they are fine. I look out the window at her a couple more times before I go to bed and she is curled up in her bed.
The next morning I check on her. She appears to still be half asleep which surprises me. It still doesn't look like she is eating, but there are two little piles of poop so surely she's eating something or there wouldn't be anything coming out. I make sure her box is under the chair so that if (ha! not an "if" lately, but a "when") it rains it may not rain directly on her.
I think about her as I run out to get lunch for a coworker and me. Should I go home and check on her? It is raining, hard at times. No, she's a bird. She's meant to be out in this weather.
Finally I get home and I run to check on her. As I'm unlocking the door I look out the window. This does not look good. Rather than being curled up in her little bunch, she appears "sprawled out". I go to the wet box. Her wet little feathers look so pitiful. Her head is down and I know before I touch her or the box that she is gone.
She's just a bird, one that we did not think would make it. Then why am I crying?
We get a box lid, put a towel in it, and crush some dog food up for it. I cut down a plastic cup to a little bowl and we put some water in it. We put the box outside the back door on Lucky's pillows and hope for the best.
The next morning the bird is still in the box but is more alert. We have a friend who has a friend who is a bird rescue person so she calls her. The bird rescue person says to put it back in a bush near where he found it and the parents will come back and feed it (what? I was always told that bird parents would abandon their young if humans touched it. Hmmm....maybe a tale to keep us from playing with the birds?) Well, John is too busy to do that before Tuesday night poker. By the time we get home after poker, the bird is fiesty and will not let him pick her up. So he says she is getting better and let's just leave her here.
The next morning we get up to an empty box. YEA! The bird has flown away....not. It has moved out of the box and is now hidden between the pillow and the house. We move the pillow out and try to move the bird. Again too fiesty to let us pick her up. So we decide to just let her do her thing.
John leaves for Vegas, so now the task reverts to me to care for the little bird.
I go out later and she has moved farther out on the patio - under one of the chairs. Later in the day, I find her in the yard near the fence. I go buy bird seed for her. I come home and find her back near the house in the gutter downspout. I put some food by her. I come home again later and she is near the fence gate (the food has not been touched). She's been making the rounds around the yard. I decide it's best to move her back to her box and fluffy blanket. I get gloves on, and against her protests, I put her back in the box. Fresh water and add food. She seems to be doing pretty good - alert, moving her head around watching my every move. As I tried to pick her up she spread out her wings so I know they are fine. I look out the window at her a couple more times before I go to bed and she is curled up in her bed.
The next morning I check on her. She appears to still be half asleep which surprises me. It still doesn't look like she is eating, but there are two little piles of poop so surely she's eating something or there wouldn't be anything coming out. I make sure her box is under the chair so that if (ha! not an "if" lately, but a "when") it rains it may not rain directly on her.
I think about her as I run out to get lunch for a coworker and me. Should I go home and check on her? It is raining, hard at times. No, she's a bird. She's meant to be out in this weather.
Finally I get home and I run to check on her. As I'm unlocking the door I look out the window. This does not look good. Rather than being curled up in her little bunch, she appears "sprawled out". I go to the wet box. Her wet little feathers look so pitiful. Her head is down and I know before I touch her or the box that she is gone.
She's just a bird, one that we did not think would make it. Then why am I crying?
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