This, these birds, this is what my day was all about yesterday. It wasn’t about the demolition. It was all about the babies.

I made phone calls - lots of phone calls, first. I called two places who said they remove and rescue birds. They offered no help and little advice. “Move them to a tree, hope for the best.” No referring phone numbers - except to the DNR, and that guy said “sorry, I deal with fish, try the DoC.” The lady at the DoC about hung up on me, she couldn’t have cared less. No referrals to anyone else who might take them, incubate them, raise & release. Nothing.

So, when I took two nests down from under the carport, I had my fingers crossed for eggs. Brand new eggs, even. I would have carried less guilt that way if the parents never went back to their nests.

The first nest was well built, so when I took it down I started peeking around for eggs. It was built with a false bottom - I swear - eggs started falling out and splattering all over the ground. It broke my heart to throw such a well built nest into the dumpster.

Poor Lisa, she did her best to console me. I was such a mess - especially after I took the second nest down. Babies. Brand new babies. Oh no.

I moved them to a tree our sprarrows frequent. High up into the side of the tree. No luck. Mom & dad just sat there, fretting about where their nest once was.

I made a makeshift ledge out of a wire shelf and put it on the fenceline where they are always perched. They noticed it was there, but apparently didn’t recognize their babies chirping inside.

We waited, and we watched. Both mom & dad kept going to the spot their nest used to be. Mom went down directly below it a couple of times, looking around on the ground - so I put the nest down there. Again, she stood right next to it, but didn’t go in.

 

I put the nest back on the shelf and left them alone for a few hours. When we returned from dinner, it was getting dark - and no sign of mom & dad. My daughter and I were really upset over the impending death of these babies, so I started googling local wildlife rehabilitators. I found a name - called the gal, and she couldn’t take them. She gave me the number of another woman who handles birds and I called her. I was so relieved when she said “bring ‘em over!” - I grabbed the nest, put them in a box, and my daughter and I headed over to her house.

I touched one of the babies on the way over - and he was cold. They weren’t moving, either. I asked my daughter to breathe onto them and it didn’t take long before they warmed up and started peeping. We giggled and listened to them peep and watched them open their beaks wide for food. I could tell this was going to be Cait’s thing - she took to them and wanted to care for them, and on the way home she said she wanted to do that all the time. (She’ll probably soon realize that it’s not all fun and peeping, there’s a lot of death involved, and she’ll change her mind like I did.)

The gal that is caring for them is really sweet, and she was so excited to see them all active. She had a heating pad ready and told us we were welcome to call in a few days to see how they’re doing. She seemed confident that they’d be just fine.

Phew. I didn’t realize the level of guilt I felt all day until I got back into the car and breathed a big sigh of relief. They’re going to be fine. We saved the babies!!

(Good job, my little Rescue Catybug!)

Can you hear that? That would be the “thump-thump” of my heart, which is beating out of my chest right now. Here we go.

I have a value pack of Aleve, 2 in my system already, and two-and-a-half days. Cross your fingers for me - forgive me for not bloghopping - and if I’m not back by Monday, dial 9-1-1.

OMG - Does it really matter what channel the Administration has on the TV’s of Air Force One? Really? Is this what it’s all boiled down to?

Nah, that reporter shouldn’t have asked about the rising price of gas. He should’t have asked about a million other really important issues. Reporters should always and forever be interested in the stupid crap, the seriously trivial & stupid crap that screams “it figures” in our country. And look who reports the senseless drivel! The same station who is reporting this crap is wasting the Administration’s time having to watch it and read about it on the news now, thanks to this stupid reporter.

That guy got a PAYCHECK for that!! Ridiculous!

Now I know why I don’t watch the news. I just wasted 10 minutes typing about what freakin’ TV stations people watch on an airplane! :duh:

This is another photographic portrait that I’ll be using as reference to paint on canvas. Nearly every photo I take is destined for canvas though, if only there were more hours in a day!

1. Only one person met the challenge from last Thursday. WTG, Jen! Thanks for remembering!
2. I’m skeert of the dark. I always think people are lurking in the dark. Wearing black. Gonna pounce - hurry up and shut the door - slam! Yes I am. Big. Fraidy. Cat.
3. I told someone to go away like, uhm, over a year ago, and it apparently never sunk in. Ever encounter anyone so thick? Just curious.
4. I love my new haircut. I feel like “me” again with short hair. Even my mom said she doesn’t like me with long hair. I must have been really stinky, or mean or something before my haircut. Did you notice? Why didn’t you say something?!
5. I was hired for a new project lastnight that is going to be super cool. Coming soon - three week deadline on that one! (Hint: illustrations.)
6. I have worn off the following letters on my keyboard: E, U, I, O, S, H, J, K, L, N and M. Strange, I didn’t know what they were when I looked, I had to type them. I still type over 90 wpm. My 4 year old knows which letters I’m missing too, by sight. Please send donations for a new keyboard to missingallmyletters@needanewkeyboard-dot-com.
7. I have a wicked nice tan already. I never tan - but I think my triple-sunburn in Florida last summer has prepped my skin for sun a little better. This year maybe I won’t burn when we get there!
8. We’re looking at spending over a week at the Nickelodeon property later this year. WooHoo!
9. Looks like this is going to be the weekend of big giant dumpster in the driveway. We’re starting the ripping apart of the house project. Wish me sanity - send Advil.
10. My BP just skyrocketed thinking about it.
11. I’m glad it didn’t drop instead. (My BP. haha!)
12. If you say “great TT, here’s mine!” and fly right by, I’ll hunt down your blog and spam it, by golly. Knock that crap off. ‘Nuff said.
13. The new Toyota commercial makes me cry. When does a car become more than just a car? For me, it was when I avoided an accident with ease, was able to brake on a dime, and turn up the stereo from the steering wheel. When did your car become more than just a car?

Happy Thursday! Thanks for stopping by!

Finally getting a chance to paint a bit today, here’s a shot of my progress on that lovely Great Blue Heron I’m working on.

View the whole work in progress

MommaK, the goober, tagged me. I ran as fast as I could, but she’s faster than I am, even with her dancing shoes on. So here we go, more on me, because, well - it’s my blog and she said so. Oh yes, and a new haircut pic. There’s that, too. That ought to get you to stop looking at my cleavage.

I AM: On my first cup of jet black coffee this morning, and still trying to shake off the sleepies and remember the dream I had lastnight.
I WANT: To move. Really badly. But we can’t, until we have our home in listing condition. Getting there. Slowly but surely.
I WISH: There were more hours in a day to get everything done that I’d like to get done. I wish there were no distractions.
I HATE: That I allow people to use me, as I have - for the most part - an inability to say no. I tend to spread myself too thin, and wonder when I’m going to stop that.
 
I MISS: Something that I never had. Being a daddy’s girl. Having a dad that cares. One that actually calls on my birthday, or visits, or just gives a shit about me and my kids.

I FEAR: That my girls will lose their father and I will lose my husband far too soon. That would be my biggest fear.

I HEAR: Every single bird that chirps. It resonates in my head. It’s beautiful, and springy, and I like it.

I WONDER: If I’ll have enough time today to do the things I want to do.

I REGRET: I don’t regret much. Regrets kind of waste energy and time, which I’m trying to accumulate more of.

I AM NOT: All that and a bag of chips. I try to be, but I’m not.

I DANCE: Alone, usually. My girls won’t boogie yet, my husband doesn’t boogie at all.

I SING: A lot. All the time. Subconciously. Everywhere. Should I have been a singer?

I CRY: When I feel helpless. When I’m touched or reminded of a happy memory. When my girls do something pure and innocent and sweet.

I AM NOT ALWAYS: The friend I wish I could be.

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: Something beautiful. Through everything I put my hands on, I try to make something beautiful, something that will be appreciated.

I WRITE: The way that I speak. If you’ve heard me talking, you’ve heard me writing. WYSIWYG.

I CONFUSE: A lot of people, and that’s okay. I’m an artist, artists tend to see things differently, and express feelings differently.

I NEED: Another cup of coffee. Be right back. Okay. Back. I need to win the lottery, so we can hire someone to do the work we need to do to this house to move, and also to buy the house I want for our family. It would be nice to not have to owe anyone anything.

I SHOULD: Play the lottery if I need to win it so bad. Can’t win if ya don’t play, eh?

I START: Chewing on my tongue as soon as my brush hits canvas. Today, I shall chew and chew, and chew. (See that big bird behind me?)

I FINISH: Most of the projects I start. I’m big on seeing things through, and I’m also big on seeing the results of hard work. It’s very gratifying.

I TAG: You, if you want to do it. You’re it! Let me know when you’re done and I’ll link you up.

This is my doggie Chloe and I, kissin’ in the backyard. Actually, she’s taking a pretzel stick out of my mouth. She’s always been a gentle soul, I’ve never had to worry about her biting my face off.

Thoughts inside my head at this moment, in case you’re wondering:

• OMG, I’m really going to post this picture?
• I’m so impressed that he pressed the button at the right time. Nice job, honey!
• I can’t believe he’s making me post this.
• He’s really not making me post this, he just dared me. I am always up for a challenge. No matter how embarassing.
• I can do it, I can do it!
• Oh jeez, everyone is going to see my ink splotch.
• And my cleavage. Oy! Quit looking!
• I’m gonna hit the upload button…right…here…urgh….crap…okay. Sheesh. It’s done. I did it.
• Actually, this isn’t so bad, because 10 minutes after I saw this photograph, I went and got a haircut. So really, I don’t look anything like this today. Haha!

Also, I had more freaky dreams lastnight, if you want to read about them, visit my Dream Blog.

Does your man give you “Man Pats”? I have to know. My sister and I had a long talk about Man Pats, and we were wondering if this is much more common among the opposite sex than we realized. Let me explain what they are:

• The Dog: The pat on the head and mussy hair action. Usually just one to two pats at a time with pauses inbetween that last for between 10-20 seconds.
• The Giddyup: The quick double pat on the thigh, butt, or back, that screams “giddy-up, woman!”
• The Citrus Squeeze: This doesn’t need explanation, does it?
• The Sway: Slow rocking from side to side during a hug.
• The Pelvic Sway: Just like The Sway, only with an Added Bonus!
• The Poker: Yes, the poker. You know what I’m talkin’ about.

Have we forgotten any? We’re sure that there are more, perhaps our men have an outdated version of the Man Pat Encyclopedia. Help a married woman out - are there New Fangled Pats available? Younger, more peppy versions of the Old Pats? Are there online tutorials? Your help in this matter would be greatly appreciated!