Archive for August, 2012

A Bird In The Hand

Well not quite – in the mouth of the dog more accurately. After trying unsuccessfully for many years to catch one of those ‘pesky flying things’ he always sees in his domain, my dog couldn’t believe his luck today when one was a tad too slow. Finally he had one between his jaws only to realize he needed to decide between the joy of the catch, or the wrath of his screaming master – me. He chose the latter. With a mouth full of feathers he was locked up while I deliberated on what to do with this half dead pigeon, or perhaps dove, on my lawn.

Not being good with this type of thing my first thought was to ring the eldest son to come to the rescue. His advice was “mum, get a shovel and whack it over the head”. Ok, so this was not in my being so I called my second, more sensitive son. His advice was “mum, get a shovel and whack it over the head”. What’s this? Now I have a half dead bird an extremely agitated dog and two psychopathic sons. This was not a good start to the day.

I rang WIRES, sure that they would help, but they couldn’t. My poor half dead bird, with the pleading “help me help me” eyes was not native to Australia. Not worthy of help, it just had to lay there slowly dying while all the much loved and protected “native” birds pick it to pieces. That’s Specieism.

Son number two, feeling sympathy for me came over and placed the bird in a basket for me to take to the vet. All will be good I thought, but the look on the vets face contradicted her words when she said “the bird should be fine”. In fact, I sensed her real thoughts were that perhaps I should have saved myself and them the trouble, and just – ‘got a shovel and whacked it over the head’.

 

Cheers

Buttercup

 

“The moment a little boy is concerned with which is a jay and which is a sparrow, he can no longer see the birds or hear them sing.” ― Eric Berne

 

Teacher’s Crush.

I didn’t have a “teacher’s crush” when I was at school, though I hear it is quite common. Waaaay back “in my day”, teachers were mostly to be feared, not admired. Fear of “The Cane”.

I must say, my teacher was a bit reluctant giving the Cane to girls so we did have an advantage. We also used this TO our advantage when wanting some of those annoying boys to cop it.

I didn’t escape entirely though, I also had to line up one day with the boys, hands stretched out waiting for this stick to come sharply down and sting my fingers. It hurt, though it felt strangely good to receive this punishment because it immediately removed my “goody two shoes” tag.

My memory of this male teacher was his morning routine. After the obligatory “Goooood Moooorning Mrrrrr Buuuuckly”, he proceeded to take a Bex powder (a crushed pain killer that came in a paper wrapping).  He took this every single day for the entire year. Were we really that bad that he needed to take a pain killer in preparation for the headache his class was about to give him? Perhaps we were.

High School male teachers were not much better and so any “crush” would have been for the few really nice female teachers that were enviously “cool”.

My “teachers crush” has surprisingly come late in life. Each day as I drop the high school students on my Run to their school I can’t help but ogle the male teacher who stands every morning in the freezing cold by the front gate to say “good morning” to all the students as they arrive.

He exudes genuine happiness with this huge smile on his handsome face. (body’s not bad either) Such a lovely welcoming thing for him to do and I’m sure it must make those female students “think twice” if they are tempted to be absent.

This unexpected pleasure has added to my joy of driving these students each day. Now, instead of being envious of the “cool” teachers, I desire them – and envy the students.

 

Cheers

Buttercup

 

“It takes a minute to have a crush on someone, an hour to like someone and a day to love someone – but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.” – Johnny Depp

 

 

 

Ducking Mad.

Those freezing mornings of last week are now replaced (at least temporarily according to the weather reports) with a more mild temperature and lovely sunshine. Time to get in some well needed and long overdue early morning walks.

This is good timing, having a few weeks left before I have to fight off those dreaded magpies. Is it just me or are they getting worse? I’m sure years ago there weren’t as many of them in suburban areas and they certainly weren’t as aggressive.

At the risk of looking like a goose I have tried all the recommended armour against attacks, from wearing a hat backwards complete with sunnies, to carrying sticks and huge Golf umbrellas. Hearing that hair colour is a factor, I have been blonde, brunette and redhead, all to no avail.

The experts say these birds only attack certain types of people. Certain types?? What does that mean? What “type” am I?

Ok, believing it safe at least until September, I ventured out and chose the local pond as a pleasant spot to take in the fresh air and scenery without fear. IPod on full blast, not a magpie in sight, I was simply enjoying this pleasant moment.

I was especially appreciating the sight of a family of ducks who were also having their morning walk. Mummy and Daddy duck and about 8 cute little ducklings all waddling across my path toward the lake. How cute.

Suddenly, big black Daddy Duck, who I sensed had been giving me the “evil eye”, turned sharply then rushed up behind and bit hard into the back of my leg. What? Now cute little Ducks are attacking me? What is it with me and birdlife?

So much for sunshine and a pleasant morning walk, it’s back to the treadmill for me.

 

Cheers
Buttercup

 

“In every walk with nature one receives far more than he seeks.” ~John Muir