Moving Out of Summer, With Style

All was not doom and gloom at the Gee Funny Farm during the end of summer, despite our heavy losses in the realm of "fowl"-play (Ha ha! Okay, not funny. Sorry. But puns are so irresistible. Once you think of one, you can't stop yourself.) In fact, Kathy was busy, busy, busy.

Busy with Kids' Fest to begin with. Kids' Fest was an event hosted by the YMCA. Kathy was able to have a booth to present from and a few moments on the "stage." Stage, here, is in quotation marks because "stage" usually suggests an audience and the only ones listening were two people-- a grandma lady with her granddaughter, who, it so happens, are also Kathy's friends. Ah, well. The booth still got attention, even if Kathy and the Navajo churro lamb's entertainment on stage went unnoticed. At the booth everybody wanted to pet me (of course). They also wanted to pet Isaac, but he's not really into touch. You know, that's African grays for you. Talk to him and he's happy as can be, but me? I bask in the glorious feel of fingers running down my feathers. Oh yeah! Do it again! Lucky for me to have such a non-touchy-feely cage-mate. Means more for me! We're hoping that some of the home-schoolers, who expressed an interest, will book with us! Ah yes, a bunch of active little hands dying to stroke my adorable little body. Bring it on!

Kathy also went out, this time for Porthos the Percheron cross, to teach that horse some lessons. Kathy and Porthos headed out to Parelli Natural Horsemanship training, and David tagged along to watch, er "audit." Porthos is a heck of a horse at about 17 hands tall. And he's smart too (I mean, for a horse). This is fun for Kathy, but it also entails keeping his active mind working and not letting him get away with stuff. Well, Kathy had already been very interested in Parelli, but she was all out sold after her weekend of working with Porthos. I see more outings for those two in the future. As for David, well, these sorts of things are not necessarily his things, but he was impressed and interested too and even condoned future training!

Speaking of Porthos, I feel he deserves some tribute today in honor of his stellar and unexpected herding in the face of possible chaos. (I forgot to do it in a timely fashion, but, hey, I'm patting his back now, so no criticism if you please.) One day this summer, one of the household inmates (I don't remember which it was) observed that one of the gates was open. The people, namely Kathy and Keegan (with baby in stroller), headed out before it was too late. But, well, it was too late already. Animals had noticed the open gate and headed for the hills. Actually, nobody was moving that fast. Mostly they were grazing on the green grass on the other side of the fence. (If they had been safely confined while munching in this area, David probably would have appreciated their enthusiastic mowing.) Seeing that their feast was about to come to an end when Kathy arrived, the animals headed round the corner of the fence, in the direction of the swamp and total freedom (or if you take your lesson from the chicken story, possible death). Kathy and Keegan accessed the situation. Both have had some experiences like these before with Kathy the more experienced in every way. It looked like it might be a LONG afternoon. And then, what to their wondering eyes should appear, but Porthos (who had been at the lead of the escape), taking a prancing step to herd the sheep and goats back to the field. And in very un-horse-like fashion, he herded most of them in and then galloped back through the fence and into the field himself. Okay, so it may have been a little unjust to say he was only smart for a horse. He is just simply one smart, gifted, likable hunk of horse, and Kathy and Keegan were SOOOO grateful THEY didn't have to do the herding!!

Then Kathy went to the Sheep and Wool Festival in Jefferson, WI. She took classes about making goat's milk soap, dyeing wool, weaving, and needle felting. Nothing to do with feathers, so who cares, but she liked it.

And finally, Abinadi, Hosea, Nephi, and Kathy went to Llama Camp. They hiked and Abinadi got hooked up to a cart -- he should tell you about THAT! Kathy learned more things to do with wool and they came back all bonded and happy. Why don't they have parrot camp?!?!? That's what I want to know.

All right, already, I'm done thinking about anybody but myself for awhile.

RIP Poor Elvis

I'm not talking about the Elvis who may or may not have died in 1977. I'm not talking the King of Rock 'n Roll. I'm not talking the Elvis who was surnamed Presley. And I'm certainly not talking the Elvis who made the ladies swoon. No, our Elvis kicked the bucket in 2011. And our Elvis was the king of barnyard crooning. And our Elvis was probably surnamed something like Roostermeister. And our Elvis did not have much success with the ladies.

In fact, this very Elvis I speak of wrote (on my blog) just a few months back about his troubles. Well, those independent ladies were just the beginning of his problems as it turns out. Presumably, there was something lurking in the shadows. Not only was Elvis himself lost, but his brave and daring ladies were a little too brave and daring for their own good. Our evil preying enemy of the night didn't stop with the chickens, either. No, he moved on to bigger fowl. Three ducks, who have lived on the Farm for over a year, disappeared. Then one of Kathy's imprinted geese disappeared. As your imagination surely suggests, August was a sad and mournful time at the Gee Funny Farm as our wicked nemesis picked off our colleagues not just one by one but by groups and in daylight!!

The results of his evil deeds linger on. Freedom has been restricted for the protection of remaining fowl. The outdoor fowl now spend no time open grazing these days.

All I can say is, Boy, am I glad that my cage is in the safe shelter of a house. The outdoors can be scarey -- and it seems that something wicked likes birds for evil purposes!! It is a sad time for feathered critters!

"Independence" Means: Taking a Long Walk Before Adoring Fans

I know: You probably lost faith in my expertise as a valuable reporter on the goings-on at the Gee Funny Farm after my last disappointing and despicably unimpressive report. Well, I will do my best to make it up to you even though I do still have to catch up.

On July 2nd, we headed out to the town of Oconomowoc, Wisconsin in all our glorious -- er, glory to participate in their Independence Day parade. Perhaps you were there cooling in the shade of a tree as we rushed along through the hot, steamy, baking, roasting--and did I mention "HOT"? --streets. Our party included two going-on elder adults (I say with all the fondness I possess for David and Kathy, but, hey, they are grandparents and for people it takes some age to get to that point), one younger adult, two lovely teenage girls, one pre-teen, one preschooler, and one baby. (All but the lovely teenage girls are Gee family descendants. Ain't they all lucky?) And that's not even the animals, eh!

Well, on to the animals! Of course, I (Asimov, the umbrella cockatoo) was there in all my splendor, and so was Shiblon, the Angora goat; Obadiah, the Oberhasli goat; Liahona, the llama; and Moses, the miniature donkey.

We all got shuffled around to different handlers for various reasons. I, for example, was ousted from the wagon because the two-and-a-half-year-old was struggling to keep up. It was okay with me because it was hard to keep hold of my perch in that wagon while we were jolting along. Plus, I mean, I'd always rather be held anyway. And, I understand about short legs. I tell you, preschoolers and birds are not made for long-distance walking.

The other difficulty was Moses. Adorable, braying, silly Moses refused to walk through the middle of the street. He was switched from a teenager to Kathy and she coaxed him along. And then, all of a sudden, those humans caught on. His problem? The man-holes were scaring the tar out of him. And who can blame him? The very name suggests dropping to your doom. We animals know that you people think only in terms of yourself linguistically-speaking, so in our heads we just tack right on man/donkey/horse/etc.-holes and we say, "If you think I'm going over that death trap, you, my friend, have another think coming!" As a bird, of course, I don't take issue with these sorts of things and I don't feel the need to add myself to that list. If everybody had wings, you all would be better off.

Besides the man-hole dilemma faced by confused humans, the other funny thing was watching poor Keegan (the young adult I mentioned) wearing jeans, t-shirt, socks, and tennis shoes with a baby strapped to her person and pulling the wagon with her older son and all the extra flyers and cards in it. Okay, so I felt pity for her on that sauna of a day. And I felt grateful that I have not had any offspring and that even if I did, we parrots don't work that way. But I about died laughing when a (shirtless, shoeless, shorts-clad) man drinking some (probably ice-cold) beverage, sitting in the shade said with a smile, "Hot day, isn't it?" And oblivious Keegan said mildly, "Yup, pretty hot." She didn't make the connection until much later that he was being ironic. But I am more astute than she is. Whoever that dude is, he should come visit the farm and give me a few more laughs. Sometimes you humans are too much fun!

Waukesha Deaf Organization

Hey! Did you know that there are some people who can't hear (are deaf ) who have adopted a positive attitude toward their deafness. They choose to notice the advantages to their deafness. I once overheard Kathy's daughter Keegan sharing this fact from a class entitled Deaf Culture with a Deaf woman at the university she attended (Brigham Young University). The professor was married to a hearing man and had hearing children. She said that an alarm went off in their town by accident and took some time to turn off. It was driving her husband crazy, but this woman wasn't fazed at all. When it was time for bed? Well, no problem, she could drift off into dreamland undisturbed, while her husband was miserable. Another major bonus she shared? Bickering children are always on mute. Ah, the peace of a quiet household. I suppose there are days that she would be glad not to hear the noise level at the GEE Funny Farm -- that Isaac is always talking or whistling.

[Note: You may not have known that there was such a thing as Deaf Culture. Or you may have thought that people who can't hear would prefer to be called hard-of-hearing rather than Deaf. Well, it just so happens that many people in the United States (and around the world) take pride in their identity as Deaf and prefer to think of themselves as who they are (deaf) rather than as who they are not (as in "not hearing"). Those who choose to identify themselves in this way participate in a language (American Sign Language) and a culture with rules and guidelines and expectations. And while some people would prefer to be called "hard-of-hearing," there are many, many people who would prefer to be called "Deaf" (capital "D"). A site you might check out is called www.deafculture.com. -- Heh. We weren't kidding about this educational experiences thing now were we? *Wink*Wink*)

Why did I share the previous anecdote? Well, when the Waukesha Deaf Organization visited, Isaac pointed out how glad these folks must have been not to have to hear MY silky tones. Issac thinks he's so funny -- well, he's not! The fact of the matter is, I'm generally quite well-mannered and soft-spoken . . . when I'm the center of attention (no winking involved here!).

Members of the Waukesha Deaf Organization visited us back in June. Arriving at the Gee Funny Farm was a little tricky because this summer Highway 83 (where we are located) was Construction Central, but for those who made it, they were awed and amazed by my dazzling performance (as always). And they may have been pleasantly interested in one or two other things like the bottle fed Navajo churro lamb, Keturah. Ugh -- those babies steal a lot of the attention that is meant for ME! Oh, and one person about had heart failure when Abish, the green aracari toucan landed on him - well, he'd been warned! I stay on MY perch unless someone offers me a hand...

. . . All right, the fact of the matter is, after time passes, I do tend to forget about everything that happened that doesn't involve me. So sue me. Playing catch up isn't my strong point. I'll keep up better in the future.