Coffee with Old Robin

It was barely light this morning when I put breakfast out in the Bird Park but Old Robin was already there enjoying an apple. What's very cool is that she didn't fly away when I opened the door. She hopped off a bit but then turned to watch as I filled the water and scattered the goodies. That was about 15 minutes ago.

We're now on the third shift although the demographics have changed at bit. The crows are back, sometimes even beating the magpies to the table but, for today at least, Old Robin gets the Early Bird Award. Otherwise, and every morning, the crows and magpies swoop in first then, about 10 minutes later, the grackles arrive along with a smattering of starlings. That order is fixed. At least so far, Old Robin's presence is seasonal and intermittent. And, of course, the quail make their appearance at some point, a few pigeons drop in, including a lovely couple of mourning doves and last, but of course not least, the finches arrive. They are here on and off all day and the quail who come and go in waves. Lately Old Robin has been around a good part of the day, along with a second robin she chases off, to no avail. And, yes, the Seven O'clock Magpie checks in through the day on a regular basis. She is the most loyal of all.

And, while I'm on the subject Bird Park wonders and special events, yesterday at dawn a crow watched me silently from the peak of old Dick's house as I put the food out. I heard his talons click on the roof as he dropped down from the sky but I pretended I didn't notice and he didn't get scared off. Woo-hoo.

So that's it for now. If you're a regular here, you've probably read similar rundowns before. Sorry about that. I just felt the need to write some words and this is what's happening outside my window. At this point, everyone has come and are already gone except for Old Robin who has all the apples to herself again and she is taking her time. She's at that last cup of coffee part of breakfast when you're full but want to stretch the moment out as long as possible before launching into the day. And so am I. Well, I haven't had my oatmeal yet but it is time for one last cup of coffee. So, have a nice day. Good chatting with you.

Etude leaves the garage

Etude developed a soul warbling songs in the dark to the mice for weeks after being thrown in the trash. I felt very sad when the little fellow finally grew silent. Naturally, I assumed he'd died.

Etude's return

Etude 02.24.12

I'm shocked. Etude's back!

Conservative Chickens

Looking for something to go along with your morning coffee or whatever? Rolling Stone's Matt Taibbi just published an excellent article on the Electric Conservative Paranoia Acid Test. Check it out.

Predominantly Inattentive

That's me. Predominantly Inattentive. I keep going back to this because the term is a relatively new update to the ADHD thing and fits me like the proverbial missing piece. As for strategies for "afflicted adults"? Wikipedia covers that here.

If I could just call my mind back to attention with a dog whistle fine.... but I'd keeping changing where I keep the whistle and sometimes forget I have it at all. Which isn't to say ADHD-PI is the same as Alzheimers but hey, they're not mutually exclusive. Woo-hoo. On the other hand, maybe I should get a whistle.

Anyway, truth be told, the real reason I did this post today is because I wanted to use this photo again. I took a few years ago at Comma Coffee . The bits of mirror were, at the time, pasted on the wall. However now, in the light of the PI addition, it's really the most accurate photo I have of myself.

Now back to the tasks at hand.

Red-eye

1:30 A.M.
Reluctantly the metal beast shudders up and above a sudden spill of sleepless iridescence, lagoons of gold, pockets of blaze, sprawling tendrils of light trailing off to coals glowing in the dark then a few scattered embers then they also vanish and there, traversing the interstellar night, the edge of our planet and her lovely moon who is, at the moment, gazing at her reflection on my window. Hello Moon. But before she can answer our reverie is interrupted by the arrival of the steward bearing peanuts.

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I found this entry in one of my notebooks the other day. I wrote a while ago and totally forgot about it until now. Don't be surprised if it has changed if you happen to drop by and read it again later. That's how things go around here.

Bird Park Wish List

If it weren't for the damn CC & Rs, we
could have a fine fellow like Mr. Kung Fu around
to greet the neighborhood gangster cats that have made
the Bird Park their own personal Nevada casino style dessert buffet.

Meet Mister Kung Fu Rooster.

Mexican standoff at the brain drain

Writing doesn't come easy to me. It's generally a miserable experience trying to get a sentence or two straight, real work on my part, but then concentrating on anything for long is hard. My attention is as divided as a swarm of bees working a meadow. Naturally this kind of thing has a diagnosis. There's a diagnosis for everything isn't there? And thanks to Big Pharma, there is a drug to conveniently "manage" it but I have no interest in living my life high on speed. Okay. I am always battling my inertia, but cycling, walking, weightlifting, swimming etc., along with my improvised version of mindfulness, however imperfect, are way better than that. As ol' Zeke would say, it's a better way to live.

As you might guess, this blog is one of my regular stops in the meadow. At the moment I am taking a break from two other tasks that have pressing deadlines and are locked in a Mexican standoff.

In other news, breakfast was a huge event in the Bird Park this morning. Only now, the quail finally wandered off giving me an opportunity to restock the apple treats since a chattering of starlings dropped in and ravaged them.

Okay. Gotta go.

Clippy

Ah, little Clippy. How I miss you.

Fuck the Smithsonian Magazine.

Whew!