We made it through the weekend, although slightly damp and a little swollen – no worse for wear! We have the best looking trash in the neighborhood – topped with lovely plush carpet and padding, to boot!

(By slightly damp I mean soaked to the bone, and by a little swollen I mean walking around like really old people in dire need of hip and back replacements. Sucks, getting old.)

So here’s some of the havoc we wreaked, and we’re looking for a couple of contractors to finish what we started.

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!)

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.

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.

Cait collects birds. These are Audubon birds have official bird chirps when you squeeze ’em, and they’re neat. They don’t sell them just anywhere, we get them when we go to the zoo. Friday, she got a new one, a Lorikeet. Saturday morning, she arranged her collection near the front window and proceeded to call the Robins to the yard with her Robin. Once there were a dozen or so Robins hopping about the yard, she made a single call with the Red Tailed Hawk that scared them all away. Had she left my recollection of the series of events alone, she would have been a highly intelligent bird watcher. A little mean? Yes, but I really did make her out to be a 9 year old with a developed intellect about the matter.

Now, in the middle of bragging about my oh-so-smart-daughter, she corrects me. “There were only 4 Robins. And they were out in the street, Mom. I was trying to get them to come to the yard but they wouldn’t come, and then I tried the Hawk.”

My version is so much better. She was The Aussie Front Yard Birdwatcher. Put on your best Crocodile Hunter Voice, and follow me to the front window for a moment, would you?

“Shhhhh today, we’re gunna have a good look at the call of the Rawbin. The rawbin is a supah cool red-breasted buhrd (fluffs up chest) that eats wuhms by snatchin’ them up right out of the ground!

Here we’ve got a stuffed Rawbin from the Audobon collection of buhrds. They’ve spent hawrs and hawrs puhrfectin’ the call, and if you’ll have a lookie whall I squeeze, you’ll see Rawbins are really attracted to this stuffie. :squee!:

Ohhh lookie that! There’s dozens of ’em! Rawbins are just flocking to the yahd! Let’s give ‘er one more good squeeze. :squee!:

Wow, that’s incredibule! The rawbins are all ovah the yahd now, trying to figyah out where their mate is.

Now, we’re gunna pull a fast one on these Rawbins. See what I’ve got heah? This is a hawk. A Red Tailed Hawk to be exact, the most ferrrrocious rawbin-eating buhrd of prey on the block. Just LOOK at this red tail. Idn’t he a beaut? Aww now, have a lookie back out in the yahd, and pay close attention to the Rawbins.

I’m gonna give this Hawk’s butt a nice squeeze right about heah, and he’s gonna make a noise :sqwau: :squau: now LOOKIE! Wouldjya lookie that – see that? Did you see those birds scattah?

Phew, holy moly, that’s just incrEDable. Those birds heard that hawk and it sounded SO real, they just flew-way, jus like that. That was neat!”

Now see? My version is much bettah, aye mate?

Disclaimer: This may not make any sense to anyone but my sister. Not intended to offend anyone with a supah cool Australian voice.

So. Jay’s rash is looking great, huh? Considering it’s been just a couple of days since she saw the doc, I think it looks just smashing! Pardon the pun. It turned out to be contact dermatitis, caused by a viral infection – the infection presented as a rash, and she’s been on prednesone & steriod cream for a couple of days now.

First thing this morning, though, there was a little-voice-a-screamin, at the top of her little lungs, “not againnnnnnn!” And I went running. And there was blood. And it was dripping.

She smashed her thumb in the bathroom door. She didn’t just smash it a little, there’s a pool of blood beneath the nailbed, and the skin just below the cuticle was all broken and bloody. Thankfully, I kept the padded aluminum stint for little fingers that we used when Cait had stitches in her finger years ago (that’s another story for another time), and I was able to fix ‘er all up here at home. I’m having a hard time getting her to put it on an ice pack though, and it’s throbbing as you can imagine.

I asked her nicely if I could just start calling her Smash, and she said “NO!” so forcefully that I think she’d kick my butt if I continued to do it. She definitely has my angry face. heh!

Over the past week and a half, I have been dealing with this arm. Just the one, just a few times a day. I am at a loss now, and offer up my kid to the knowledgeable mom’s out here who might know what the heck I’m doing wrong. Because there’s no temp and nothing else associated with it, I have not bowed down to the expertise of our family physician – yet.

• Cleaned with antibacterial soap. Clears the redness and reduces bumpies by half in half hour or so.
• Locoid applications, a Rx hydrocortisone – seemed to irritate it. Did nothing to clear it up.
• Washed, dried, bandaged in cotton overnight. Nope.
• Washed, dried, medicated with benedryl cream overnight. Nope.
• Benedryl cream after antibacterial soap. Helps clear it up faster, but it returns mid-day.
• Washed bedding. Nope.
• Washed pillows. Nope.
• Bleach water solution on mattress. Nope.
• Removed all stuffies from bed. Nope.
• Use hypoallergenic, dye-free, scent-free laundry detergent and fabric softener – I’ve done this for years.
• Pull hair up out of her face/arm area in case hair oils are causing it (she twists & plays with her hair with that arm).

Nothing. Nothing is making this go away. She goes to bed, she sleeps on her left side with her arm curled underneath her body. She wakes up, it looks horrible (see photo). I wash the hell out of it, let it air dry, put benedryl cream on it – it looks okay until mid afternoon. Another application of benedryl, it’s okay until bedtime. Then the itchies start. More benedryl, bed, and here we go again!

She has a tiny bit on her trunk – where her arm rests against her body while she’s sleeping. It’s not red, it’s just prickley looking, and it clears up about an hour after she gets up. It isn’t anywhere else, just this arm.

I’m pulling my hair out over here, help?!

***UPDATE*** It’s contact dermatits -she has a viral infection that displays itself as a rash. It would have gone away (as it was it was starting to clear up a little), doc said it can last anywhere between 7 days and 3 weeks. So, she’s on predensone and a strong steroid cream. Thank you all for your words of wisdom!! xox!!!

I’ll need a roasting pan, just an everyday average roasting pan, and a bunch of other stuff. See photos below.

And with my hammer, and all the stuff – or possibly just some of the stuff, and a bunch of instructions that I may or may not understand, I will attempt to build a harp. Yes, a harp. Why a harp? Because our daughter is in the 4th grade, and this is her music class project. Everyone knows that when your kid is in the 4th grade, the parents get to do the homework! The most difficult project list can’t consist of strings and a kleenex box – no way! That would be too “4th grader’ish”! These kids need to learn basic power tool skills, right away!

I must now disappear behind my big black magic cape with my flashlight to read “liquid steel” application instructions. Harps with holes? Can’t happen.

One thing is certain – if the thing doesn’t play, it will at least be pretty (see blue enamel spray paint).