(no subject)

I've been raising birds for five summers now, and by the middle of summer, I'm always amazed at how much I'd forgotten over the winter months. I think I've remembered everything, and then these things keep coming back and shocking me. "Oh, yeah! That totally does happen with starlings! Shoot, how could I forget?" "Gosh, I really have to scrub these water dishes every few minutes. Dang!"

So, to keep myself from being surprised, I'm going to write a little list of things that I seem to forget. Next Spring, I'll re-read these things to get myself prepared. So this is just like a big post-it note to myself.

--You're not going to have enough time or space. You tell yourself all winter that this season will be different, that you will somehow, magically make more time and more space. You won't. You can't. You don't have that control over the space-time continuum.

--You do have to get up at 6:30. There is no way around it. Stop pretending there is.

--You're going to run out of worms. You will spend $200 a month on them, and you're still going to run out. Flukers doesn't deliver on weekends and Mondays. Order 4000 on Thursday, even if you think you might have enough to squeeze through the weekend. It beats the hell out of running around town, begging pet stores to scrape up as many worms as they can find for you.

--When Monday comes, you're going to be running around town anyway, begging pet stores for worms to tide you over until Tuesday.

-- You can never have too many bags of frozen blueberries. If you see them, get them.

--You're going to get doves and pigeons. Every winter you tell yourself that you're going to get someone else to take them. No one else will. And you're not going to get them to eat the right way, so you'll be tubing them.

--When tubefeeding, ignore the traditional feeding tubes. The makeshift rubber ones work thousand times better and don't clog. Use them.

--Speaking of clogging, the drain of your sink is going to. Every week. Eevn though you pour the seed-filled water int he garbage.

--You will change the disgusting garbage every day. There's no way around it.

--You're on call. Don't bother telling yourself that this next season, someone will drop birds off at your house or meet you halfway. Only one person will do that, and when she's not there, you're going to have to drive the whole way. And you will. Right after you've come home, showered, and sat down to eat. Don't bother fooling yourself that you'll be ready, either. You'll go out in your pajamas and slippers.

--NutraCal is a last resort. The smell of it is the smell of defeat.

--You can't argue with natural selection. Some birds are not meant to be. Remember that this keeps the thread strong.

--You will have favorite birds, and some of them will die, and you will be very sad. Remember this. During the winter, someone will ask you, "Doesn't it make you sad when they die?" and you'll shrug and say, "Gosh, you get so used to it." You don't. You'll fall in love with a sick little fuzzy catbird or mockingbird or anybird. It will look like something out of a Miyazaki film, and hop around peeping for food, and it couldn't possibly be any cuter if it were pink. You'll fall in love with it, and it will die. It will die with that sad look on its face, and you'll be devastated. After five years, don't you think you should accept that?

--Mites are as disgusting as you remember. But that doesn't mean you should let anyone resort to putting freaking flea powder on any bird, at any time! No matter how much they insist! Remember! If someone has already done so, rinse it off immediately. I don't care if you're doing something else!

--You're not going to go to the beach this summer. Get that through your head once and for all. Stop convincing yourself every winter that this year will be an ocean year. There are mouths to feed, and even when the feeding is done, there is always something to do. If you go at all, it will be in late summer, when the brids are mostly fledged. The water will be cold, and you'll only stay for an hour or maybe less.

--Grackles bite your fingers when they are old enough to fledge. You're going to be putting the water in the cage, and the grackle will take your finger in his beak and chew on it. You'll spill the water each time until you remember to actually put one finger aside for him to chew on while you change the water. Their beaks are hella strong, but inside of the top of the beaks is soft. Remember that?

--Those stupid cages have the groove in the bottom where, any drop of spilled water collects there and it is the biggest pain to clean. You're not going to figure out a way around it. You're going to sop it up with paper towels, as usual.

--You will go through at least one, maybe two rolls of paper towels a day.

--It's going to rain everytime you release birds, or put new birds in the aviary. You can nail as many vinyl tablecloths over the aviary as you want; the birds in there are still going to get wet. They'll live.

--Cover that damned fountain with netting the day you open it!

--Pull the bad feathers. Don't hesitate. Pull the bad feathers the same day you see them. Don't wait until they're fully grown in. Pull them and be done with it! How many times do I have to tell you?!

--Grackles have a tendency to cough once and then drop off the perch, dead, with no prior warning.

--Starlings need extra protein. If you mix beef baby food in their food, they will live. If you don't, they will die.

--Fledgling robins sneeze. Don't panic.

--Nothing is as charming as a handraised bluejay. You will forget, over the winter, how they like to poke their beaks in your palm and preen your hair as if you had feathers. That they spit blueberries in your hand, or suck down five berries and then line them up neatly on the perch. That they can do nothing without extensive discussion. You'll hear the double-voiced whine of baby jays outdoors and you'll beg the universe for one perfect, healthy, orphaned jay. You might not get him, though.

--Two bluejays are better than one. They will tug-o-war over one worm when there are thirty worms. You will spend time watching them do this, time that you could be doing something else.

--Your love for the bluejay is a double edged sword. You do have to let him go. There is no excuse to keep him. No, his feathers don't look strange. If they are, they'll be fine in the aviary. No, his foot is not crooked. He's fine and he can fly and you have to let him go.

--The bluejay's love for you is a double edged sword. If you let him keep it, it will kill him. You have to let him go.

--You will be relieved when that last damn bluejay is gone.

--Fight it all you want, but you will probably be wintering some birds. Damn!


I'll just have to remember these things, and post more reminders as I think of them, as the summer wanes.

ETA: Today at the craft store, they were selling Halloween things already. They had a big, fake crow. I am such a dork. I picked it up to look at it, and found myself feeling along its "keel" and thinking, "Wow, he's in good weight!" :/ I do need winters off.

(no subject)

I've been raising birds for five summers now, and by the middle of summer, I'm always amazed at how much I'd forgotten over the winter months. I think I've remembered everything, and then these things keep coming back and shocking me. "Oh, yeah! That totally does happen with starlings! Shoot, how could I forget?" "Gosh, I really have to scrub these water dishes every few minutes. Dang!"

So, to keep myself from being surprised, I'm going to write a little list of things that I seem to forget. Next Spring, I'll re-read these things to get myself prepared. So this is just like a big post-it note to myself.

--You're not going to have enough time or space. You tell yourself all winter that this season will be different, that you will somehow, magically make more time and more space. You won't. You can't. You don't have that control over the space-time continuum.

--You do have to get up at 6:30. There is no way around it. Stop pretending there is.

--You're going to run out of worms. You will spend $200 a month on them, and you're still going to run out. Flukers doesn't deliver on weekends and Mondays. Order 4000 on Thursday, even if you think you might have enough to squeeze through the weekend. It beats the hell out of running around town, begging pet stores to scrape up as many worms as they can find for you.

--When Monday comes, you're going to be running around town anyway, begging pet stores for worms to tide you over until Tuesday.

-- You can never have too many bags of frozen blueberries. If you see them, get them.

--You're going to get doves and pigeons. Every winter you tell yourself that you're going to get someone else to take them. No one else will. And you're not going to get them to eat the right way, so you'll be tubing them.

--When tubefeeding, ignore the traditional feeding tubes. The makeshift rubber ones work thousand times better and don't clog. Use them.

--Speaking of clogging, the drain of your sink is going to. Every week. Eevn though you pour the seed-filled water int he garbage.

--You will change the disgusting garbage every day. There's no way around it.

--You're on call. Don't bother telling yourself that this next season, someone will drop birds off at your house or meet you halfway. Only one person will do that, and when she's not there, you're going to have to drive the whole way. And you will. Right after you've come home, showered, and sat down to eat. Don't bother fooling yourself that you'll be ready, either. You'll go out in your pajamas and slippers.

--NutraCal is a last resort. The smell of it is the smell of defeat.

--You can't argue with natural selection. Some birds are not meant to be. Remember that this keeps the thread strong.

--You will have favorite birds, and some of them will die, and you will be very sad. Remember this. During the winter, someone will ask you, "Doesn't it make you sad when they die?" and you'll shrug and say, "Gosh, you get so used to it." You don't. You'll fall in love with a sick little fuzzy catbird or mockingbird or anybird. It will look like something out of a Miyazaki film, and hop around peeping for food, and it couldn't possibly be any cuter if it were pink. You'll fall in love with it, and it will die. It will die with that sad look on its face, and you'll be devastated. After five years, don't you think you should accept that?

--Mites are as disgusting as you remember. But that doesn't mean you should let anyone resort to putting freaking flea powder on any bird, at any time! No matter how much they insist! Remember! If someone has already done so, rinse it off immediately. I don't care if you're doing something else!

--You're not going to go to the beach this summer. Get that through your head once and for all. Stop convincing yourself every winter that this year will be an ocean year. There are mouths to feed, and even when the feeding is done, there is always something to do. If you go at all, it will be in late summer, when the brids are mostly fledged. The water will be cold, and you'll only stay for an hour or maybe less.

--Grackles bite your fingers when they are old enough to fledge. You're going to be putting the water in the cage, and the grackle will take your finger in his beak and chew on it. You'll spill the water each time until you remember to actually put one finger aside for him to chew on while you change the water. Their beaks are hella strong, but inside of the top of the beaks is soft. Remember that?

--Those stupid cages have the groove in the bottom where, any drop of spilled water collects there and it is the biggest pain to clean. You're not going to figure out a way around it. You're going to sop it up with paper towels, as usual.

--You will go through at least one, maybe two rolls of paper towels a day.

--It's going to rain everytime you release birds, or put new birds in the aviary. You can nail as many vinyl tablecloths over the aviary as you want; the birds in there are still going to get wet. They'll live.

--Cover that damned fountain with netting the day you open it!

--Pull the bad feathers. Don't hesitate. Pull the bad feathers the same day you see them. Don't wait until they're fully grown in. Pull them and be done with it! How many times do I have to tell you?!

--Grackles have a tendency to cough once and then drop off the perch, dead, with no prior warning.

--Starlings need extra protein. If you mix beef baby food in their food, they will live. If you don't, they will die.

--Fledgling robins sneeze. Don't panic.

--Nothing is as charming as a handraised bluejay. You will forget, over the winter, how they like to poke their beaks in your palm and preen your hair as if you had feathers. That they spit blueberries in your hand, or suck down five berries and then line them up neatly on the perch. That they can do nothing without extensive discussion. You'll hear the double-voiced whine of baby jays outdoors and you'll beg the universe for one perfect, healthy, orphaned jay. You might not get him, though.

--Two bluejays are better than one. They will tug-o-war over one worm when there are thirty worms. You will spend time watching them do this, time that you could be doing something else.

--Your love for the bluejay is a double edged sword. You do have to let him go. There is no excuse to keep him. No, his feathers don't look strange. If they are, they'll be fine in the aviary. No, his foot is not crooked. He's fine and he can fly and you have to let him go.

--The bluejay's love for you is a double edged sword. If you let him keep it, it will kill him. You have to let him go.

--You will be relieved when that last damn bluejay is gone.

--Fight it all you want, but you will probably be wintering some birds. Damn!


I'll just have to remember these things, and post more reminders as I think of them, as the summer wanes.

ETA: Today at the craft store, they were selling Halloween things already. They had a big, fake crow. I am such a dork. I picked it up to look at it, and found myself feeling along its "keel" and thinking, "Wow, he's in good weight!" :/ I do need winters off.