Knitnut.net. Watch my life unravel...
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Posted by Zoom! on March 6, 2011, at 10:41 am |
Oboe pooped in my eye yesterday morning. I was lying on my side in bed and he was perched on my temple. And then suddenly my eye was warm and wet. As gross as it was, I was relieved that it was the lovebird and not the Amazon who had pooped in my eye.
Actually, both birds rarely poop on me. Oboe might poop on my legs, but almost never on my head or shoulders. I think he got confused because I was lying down. In the four months Kazoo has been living here, he has only pooped on me once, while sitting on my shoulder. Even then, he tried to aim it away from me.
Having poop in my eye reminded me of something that happened many years ago. I was 17 and hitchhiking around Nova Scotia, and I found myself standing outside a shopping mall chatting with a busker. While we were talking, a seagull pooped on my head. It was a large seagull, and a large slimy poop. I went into the mall to use the washroom to clean myself up. But there was a mentally ill woman in the washroom and she started talking to me. She told me in detail about all the operations she’d ever had. She even took off her clothes to show me the scars. And I stood there, for HOURS, listening politely and looking at her scars, not knowing how to extricate myself. Meanwhile, other women came and went, and the seagull poop congealed in my hair, and still this woman went on and on about her operations and how the doctors had inserted microphones and transmitters under her skin to intercept her thoughts and steal her ideas. I was such a polite kid. It never even occurred to me to just leave.
In other news, we’ve decided on a name for the baby African Grey parrot.
Drum roll, please.
Simon.
Simon Taylor Grey.
I can’t wait for him to get here. I think about him all the time.
GC and I went to The Running Stitch, the quilt shop in Kanata yesterday. We both impulsively signed up for an introductory quilting course, which starts on March 24th.
I woke up yesterday morning with a bit of a cough. By evening I had a fever of 38.5. GC asked how I felt otherwise, and I told him I was fine. Then I stood up and realized I wasn’t fine after all. I was dizzy. Every muscle and joint in my body suddenly ached like crazy.
It was a rough night. Fever, chills, headache, intense aches and pains. Around dawn GC got me some ASA and a big glass of water, which helped a lot. The fever broke, and the aches and pains diminished. Now I just have a cough and I’m weak, but in that nice curl-up-on-the-couch way.
Posted by Zoom! on March 3, 2011, at 9:14 am |
Late yesterday afternoon, GC and I drove out to Woodlawn to pick out our new bird from among five little African Grey baby boys.
I’d never been to the breeder’s home before – or any breeder’s home, for that matter – so I was very impressed. First thing we noticed was the yard was full of empty cages and green bins, and you could hear the cacophony of birds calling from inside the house.
 The Kitchen Shirley greeted us at the door. We didn’t go far into the house, because the handfed babies are all kept in the kitchen, which is right next to the front door. She has nine large cages in the kitchen, and every cage has baby birds in it.
The two baby macaws each have their own cage because they’d been chewing one another’s tails. The sun conures share a large communal cage. There were Amazons and Caiques and Quakers and African Greys and all kinds of conures. There were baby somethings in a brooder. There was a large rope structure strung across the kitchen ceiling for the macaws to play on. There were birds EVERYWHERE. We could hear more birds calling from upstairs…that’s probably where she keeps the breeders. (I figure the whole house must be just like the kitchen, because you’d probably fill up the other rooms with bird cages before you’d fill the kitchen, right?)
She showed us the cage of five baby male African Greys. Our task was to pick our favourite. We can’t take him home for another month yet, but we got the pick of the litter.
 Five baby boys I wasn’t sure how you pick a baby bird out of five seemingly identical baby birds, but someone on the African Grey Forum had said it’s best to let the baby pick you. So that’s what I did. I crouched down and started talking to them, and they all looked at me. Then one little guy perked right up, pushed his way to the front of the crowd, and came right over to me. I picked him up and he snuggled right into me. He gently explored my fingers and chin and nose with his beak and tongue. He liked my voice. He was warm and soft and he smelled good. I was smitten, and so was he.
 My Baby Grey I knew with absolute certainty that he was the one. GC, meanwhile was checking out one of the others. But when I passed him this one, he had to agree. This was definitely the one.
We don’t have a name for our baby yet, but meeting him helped rule out some of the names we’d been considering. It’s a personality thing. He’s a curious, gentle boy bird, and he needs a curious, gentle boy name. (Suggestions are welcome.)
 Baby Scarlet Macaw This, by the way, is a baby macaw. They were out of their cages for playtime, and they were such little hams for the camera.
In other news, the interview went okay, but I didn’t get the job. I was pretty disappointed at first, but I’m much better now. See?
Posted by Zoom! on February 28, 2011, at 8:47 am |
I applied for five jobs on Friday. Living in Ottawa and not being bilingual, I’m lucky if I can find even one job to apply for on a typical day. Anyway, Friday I hit the jackpot and applied for five. Last night I got a call, saying I’d been shortlisted for one of them. The interview is this afternoon, and the successful candidate will start tomorrow. It’s only a one-month job, but it looks interesting, it pays well and I want it. (Even if I don’t get the job, I’m happy I finally got a job interview.)
Now I just have to read everything I can find about the organization and the subject matter, find something to wear, and get my dressed-up self downtown in this ice storm. (Speaking of which, what happened to the weather? Wasn’t it supposed to be an unseasonably warm 13 degrees today?)
GC and I went to an estate auction yesterday morning. The selling prices were ridiculously low (eg, $10 for a maple dresser). We had fun but we didn’t buy anything.
In the afternoon we went to the emergency animal hospital because we ran out of insulin for Logan and needed to buy a couple of syringes full. We were standing at the counter, which is in the waiting room, waiting for the clerk to come back, when a man came in. He explained to the other clerk that he’d been in earlier in the day, but his dog had died en route. He’d left his dead dog at the hospital for disposal. He had chosen the mass cremation option, but had since changed his mind. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.
“Let me show me your options,” said the clerk, and went to get the Death Options folder.
“Are you okay?” I asked the man.
“Yeah,” he said. I could see he was being tough and stoic in order to hold himself together and get through this gruesome task.
The clerk returned. She starts explaining all the options. The animal can be cremated in a shared oven, but there’s plenty of distance between all the animals, and the company guarantees that you will get 100% of your own animal’s ashes in an urn and nobody else’s ashes. The cost was a flat rate (maybe $150? $225? I can’t remember) plus 95 cents a pound, plus HST.
She went on to detail the more expensive options, which included individual cremation and satin pouches and so on, but he chose the first one. She looked up his dog’s weight, and prepared the paperwork.
Meanwhile, I’m standing there thinking how tacky the whole thing is. First of all, why would they have this conversation with him in the waiting room? Why not take him into a more private room? Not just for his sake, but for the sake of everybody in the waiting room. They’re all there for emergency appointments on a Sunday afternoon because their pets are gravely ill or injured. I doubt there was a single person in that waiting room who wasn’t mentally multiplying their own pet’s weight by ninety-five. I know I was.
Besides, charging by the pound strikes me as unseemly. When your beloved pet dies, they’re still your beloved pet; they don’t suddenly become so many pounds of tainted meat to be disposed of. Couldn’t they just charge a flat rate for small, medium and large dogs?
Posted by Zoom! on February 24, 2011, at 9:55 am |
I had a busy day on Tuesday. I’m pointing it out because it’s unusual. Normally I’m busy in a time-wasting, time-flying sort of way. I usually read the job ads and the obituaries and take care of my pets and walk to Loblaws and pick up a few groceries and walk to Value Village and look for deals and play a few games of Word Twist and Scramble and Bejeweled and look at fabrics online, and poke around on Etsy, and the next thing I know, the day is over.
I should point out that I’m an active player on the iPhone App, Foursquare. If I visit the same places often enough, and check in on my iPhone, I can become the mayor. Currently I’m the mayor of Loblaws, Fabricland, Value Village, Macs Milk and the Royal Bank. (Which is nothing. GC is the mayor of 11 places, including the library, the liquor store, two Thai restaurants, a village and a park.) People can steal mayorships away from other people. You have to check in regularly to hold onto them, so I try to visit all my places every day. These things take time. (There is absolutely no benefit to being the mayor, by the way. I have no idea why it matters to me or anyone else who plays.)
So. Back to Tuesday. First I had to go downtown and sign my security certificate with an employment agency. Then I stopped in at Mags and Fags and looked at the quilting magazines. In one of them I saw that somebody had quilted a cozy for their Smart Car. Then I went even further downtown to a meeting about homelessness. After that I dropped in briefly to the downtown library because I hadn’t been there for a long time and I missed it. Downtown has changed a lot, by the way, since I used to work there. Some stores and restaurants have disappeared, others have sprung up, and more condos are being built. (The more things change, the more they remain the same.)
At 5:30 I met GC at the Code Factory for a wine and chocolate tasting that was sponsored by the IABC. We had been invited by MediaStyle. We had no idea what to expect, other than wine and chocolate. It turned out to be kind of a networking opportunity, which isn’t my strong suit, but I did collect a couple of business cards and some good job searching ideas.
I finally met Ian Capstick, the event’s host and the main guy at MediaStyle. He reminded me a bit of Alex Munter and Andrew King, in that he looks like he’s about seventeen years old but is way more savvy and accomplished than would be possible if he really were seventeen. I liked him, and not just because he gave me free chocolate and wine – that was just the icing on the cupcake, so to speak.
GC and I sampled deeply of the Camino 65% Orange Dark Chocolate and Berringer’s Cabernet Sauvignon. Yummy. They showed videos of local sommeliers explaining how they selected the wine for each chocolate, and there were tasting notes too. That’s why I know that the reason it was yummy was because the hints of fruit in the wine complimented the orange and citrus in the chocolate splendidly.
Other obligations (notably The Dog’s insulin shot) cut short our chocolate and wine tasting, so we didn’t get to try the Camino 80% Extra Panama Dark with the Southbrook Frambroise, or the Camino 71% Bittersweet Dark Chocolate with the sweet and smoky flavoured port.
It was kind of good to get outside of my comfort zone for a bit. Sometimes I feel like I’m growing roots here on my couch.
Posted by Zoom! on February 20, 2011, at 12:57 pm |
I got a sewing machine! One of my long-time regular blog readers, Connie, very generously offered me her Husqvarna Huskystar 224, which she hasn’t used for a few years. (Like me, she leaves a string of abandoned hobbies in her wake. And, like me, she used to live with eleven birds, although the most I ever had was nine.) She says I can make her a quilt in exchange for the sewing machine, but if I abandon sewing for woodworking before I get around to it, that’s okay too. (In that case, I’ll make her a quilt rack.) Anyway, the sewing machine arrived from the States on Friday evening, and it’s beautiful. I ordered the quilt pattern and the fabrics, and today I’m going to plug in the sewing machine and see if I can sew a quarter inch seam.
I only have two birds left: Kazoo and Oboe. All the others have gone to their new homes. I hope they’re doing well. I see that the first two are for sale again. The woman I sold them too doesn’t want them anymore. She says she doesn’t have time for them. Hmph.
Oboe is a little freaked out because he’s alone in the office now. He’s used to having other birds around. He’s very quiet now, since he has nobody to chat with. I go visit him several times a day and take him out and play with him. He showers and bathes with me too. I don’t think it’s a good idea to move him downstairs. He’d have company, but Duncan might stalk him.
Speaking of Duncan, we’ve finally integrated Duncan and Logan the Dog. It turned out to be the easiest thing in the world. The first night, Duncan hissed at Logan a few times. But since then, they’ve gotten along fine. Logan gives Duncan a wide berth, and avoids making eye contact with him, and Duncan seems pretty comfortable having Logan around. GC and I are both very happy with this new development.
There’s a new creature moving into my zoo in April. Anybody want to guess what it is?
Posted by Zoom! on February 15, 2011, at 3:04 pm |
 Many thanks to Pearl at Humanyms for the Stylish Blogger Award. The meme says: “By accepting this award I’m to tell five of my favourite things and then pick five people to pass the award on to.â€
Five of my Favourite Things
1. Raspberries. I adore them. From the age of 10 to 15 I lived in a place where I could eat them right off the bushes in the back yard (for three weeks of the year, anyway), and there was nothing I liked better than an unlimited supply of fresh raspberries, still warm from the sun.
This, by the way, is what my incredibly romantic GC made me for Valentines Day:
 Perfect Valentines Parfaits! 2. Birds. I love big murders of crows and migrating geese and nuthatches running headlong down tree trunks and pink-toed pigeons and cheery chickadees and any kind of flock doing any kind of aerobatics in the sky. I love birds.
3. The book I’m currently reading: Lullabies for Little Criminals, by Heather O’Neill. I’m savouring every single word and wish it would never end. I want desperately for it to have a happy ending.
4. My undiagnosed obsessive-compulsive disorder. I love falling under the spell of a new hobby or interest and becoming obsessed and reading and learning everything I can about it.
5. Sinking into a writing project so completely that I lose all track of time and it almost writes itself. Re-writing. Editing. Building the perfect sentence out of mere words.
I’m only supposed to tell you about five of my favourite things, but suddenly my mind is being flooded with other contenders. The colour periwinkle, falling asleep with Duncan tucked into me, Kazoo laughing out loud, a cool breeze on a hot day, a hot shower on a cold day, finding a treasure at the thrift shop, babies, clotheslines, the twinkle in GC’s eye, garage sales, dreams about flying, finding something I thought I’d lost, doing something I’ve been procrastinating about…
Five more bloggers
Okay. So now I’m supposed to name five other bloggers who might reveal five things they like, and then, in turn, name five other bloggers. Etcetera.
1. Mudmama
2. The Elgin Street Irregulars
3. The Elgin Street Muse
4. Dave1949
5. Robin (he can post photos of his five things)
And a bonus one because I’m a rebel too, but not as much of a rebel as Pearl:
Nursemyra, at the Gimcrack in Australia
Posted by Zoom! on February 12, 2011, at 6:52 pm |
Things have been changing fast.
1. Baby Jeebus learned how to fly a few days ago, and was adopted by his new family last night. His new person is a little boy, and his new name is Cuddles. There are parrotlets in his new home, and another lovebird too. (The downside is that the other lovebird, which belongs to the little boy’s sister, murdered the little boy’s first lovebird. Cuddles is a replacement for the murdered lovebird, but he will have his own cage, which the murdered lovebird sadly did not.) I sobbed after Jeebus left, but it’s okay. I just want him to be happy, healthy and well-loved.
2. Someone adopted Piccolo and Banjo today. I wasn’t planning to sell them yet, but someone called and really wanted a boy and a girl. I wept when they left, but they seemed like nice people and I do need to reduce the bird population around here, because of things like this:
3. Either Piccolo or Oboe chewed through the patch cable for my router a couple of days ago, effectively severing my internet connection for 24 hours.
4. Two birds drew blood from me on the same day. A baby was flying to me and landed on my face, clinging to my nose with his sharp pointy toenails. Blood dripped from the new holes in my nose. A few hours later, Kazoo and I were playing with a spray bottle. It likes to spray him and he likes to attack it. This is the best game EVER. He gets crazy excited and laughs hysterically, and he’s got such an infectious laugh that I laugh hysterically too. So, we were playing this game, and he attacked the nozzle, which is perilously close to the trigger, which is where my index finger was. My finger got chomped HARD. I didn’t feel bad, since it was an accident, but my finger felt awful. It swelled up and turned colours and leaked blood. (I like that Kazoo can bite that hard, though, in case he ever needs to defend himself.)
5. GC’s dog, Logan, was diagnosed with diabetes this week and has to have insulin shots twice a day. It came on really fast. In November, his blood sugar levels were normal (5.6). Last week he started drinking and peeing a lot more than normal. The vet tested him and said his blood sugar levels were off the chart (in the 30s, she figured). GC wonders if he may have somehow caused Logan’s diabetes. I doubt it, but I can relate to that automatic assumption of guilt whenever something goes wrong with a pet.
6. Duncan doesn’t have much news to report. He was pretty excited about Banjo escaping in the living room today, and joined enthusiastically in the search and rescue mission until I relegated him to the basement.
7. For the record, I only have four birds left: Kazoo (the Amazon), Oboe (the youngest teenager), and Two and Three, the second and third babies from the most recent clutch.
Posted by Zoom! on February 10, 2011, at 12:00 pm |
I’ve decided it’s time for me to get my first sewing machine. The websites that specialize in offering advice to first-time sewing machine buyers say that it’s very important to think about exactly how you intend to use your sewing machine.
Based on my history, I’d have to say I intend for my sewing machine to sit, unused, while I busy myself reading a whole bunch of books and websites about sewing, and acquiring a huge stash of fabrics and patterns. I will then convert my art studio to a sewing room, and start making a quilt. About halfway through this quilt I will take up woodworking. I’ll buy a whole bunch of saws and lathes and a huge stash of wood, and start reading books and websites about woodworking.
So it probably wouldn’t make much sense for me to buy an expensive sewing machine. Some people might even suggest that I not buy a sewing machine at all, but that’s not really an option. My interest in sewing machines will continue to grow and build until I am utterly obsessed and can think of nothing else. The only cure for this affliction is to get a sewing machine. (Did I ever tell you about my loom?)
Anyway. Does anyone have any recommendations for beginner sewing machines, or good places to buy them? Any thoughts about mechanical versus computerized, or second-hand versus new machines? I’ve heard the old ones are better, but then I was told it’s sometimes hard to get parts or quilting accessories for them. The guy at the Sewing Machine Hospital on Merivale suggested that – given my price range – I get an entry-level Janome. (Then again, he’s a Janome dealer.) I’ve heard good things about the Brother CS6000i, which is apparently under $200. I’ve also heard that pre-1970 Singers are the way to go, but maybe not for quilting.
I think the features I want include a built-in one-step automatic button hole, a walking foot, feed dogs that can be lowered, lots of space between the needle and the arm, and an adjustable needle position. Other than that, I just want it to run smoothly and not drive me crazy.
If you can think of other things I ought to be wanting, by all means, let me know!
Posted by Zoom! on February 8, 2011, at 11:51 am |
 I got a little carried away at the Value Village sale yesterday. I made two trips there (on foot) and came home fully loaded both times – a bulging knapsack on my back and three big fat bags weighing me down. I had to stop and rest my arms and shoulders a few times on the way home. If I’d had a car I would have gone to the other Value Villages too, so it’s a good thing I don’t have a car.
What did I get? Well. Sometimes I get a little obsessive about things. And sometimes I can’t make a decision, so I buy both things I can’t decide between. Yesterday I got a little obsessive about Indian clothing. You know. Saris and stuff. It all started in the fabric department, when I saw some gorgeous silk material that I couldn’t live without. And at half price, it was pretty cheap – one was $7 and the other two were $5 each. A woman nearby asked me what I intended to do with them. When I told her I was making a crazy quilt, she appeared visibly shaken. She said I mustn’t cut up the saris for that purpose. First of all, she said, the fabric was too thin for use in a quilt, but more importantly, it was too exquisite to be chopped up.
So. I have a practical and an ethical dilemma, which I will deal with later. (I have another ethical dilemma too, which is this pretty little girls’ dress that I wanted for the fabric. Is it wrong for me to buy it for fabric when some little girl could be wearing it? I need fabric for my crazy quilt, and since I don’t sew, I have no stash of scraps, which is what people typically use when making a crazy quilt.)
 I digress. I picked out dozens of shirts and sweaters, but no pants because I didn’t want to line up for the dressing room and pants never fit if you don’t try them on. You can eyeball the fit of a shirt with reasonable accuracy, but not pants.
Then I found a rack labeled “Ethnic Clothing.” With the saris fresh in my mind (and in my cart), I went through this rack with great enthusiasm. There were nine Indian outfits. I don’t know the proper name for them, but they generally included expandable baggy pants with a drawstring closure, worn with a matching dress slit to the hip, and a long wrap-around shawl-type piece which I think is called the sari. I didn’t want to try them on, and I didn’t know which ones would fit, and I couldn’t decide which ones to buy, so I bought them all. Yes. All nine of them. Even the ones I didn’t much like. (But they were half price! They ranged from $3.50 to $13 apiece.)
 This purchase of course led to other dilemmas, like how would I get them home, and where would I put them, and what would I do with them and where would I wear them, and what in God’s name is the matter with me anyway?
I mean, when I go to Indian restaurants, I often admire the lovely clothing worn by the Indian women. But while I like Indian clothing, it has never even occurred to me before to actually acquire or wear any myself. I wear jeans. That’s who I am.
 I tried all the outfits on when I got home. Some fit, some didn’t. Some of the pants were missing their drawstrings. Those big baggy expandable pants make perfect sense for all-you-can-eat Indian buffets, but I’d probably feel like an imposter if I wore them to an Indian buffet.
Anyway. I think I’m all set for the next nine Halloween parties.
Posted by Zoom! on February 5, 2011, at 8:23 am |
I sold two baby birds yesterday. I had such mixed feelings about it. It’s not like I wanted to keep them – frankly, I’m feeling a bit overrun with birds these days. I was relieved that the bird population was dropping from nine to seven. But I felt so sad for them, being taken away from their brothers and sisters and going to live with total strangers.
Not only that, but I wasn’t crazy about the stranger. I ran the ad online, and this woman responded. I was asking $75 per bird, or $125 for two birds. She asked if I could give her a better deal. I told her I’d give her two birds for $75. I also offered her a second-hand cage for $50, which was exactly what I paid for it three weeks ago. She agreed. The next day she asked if I’d deliver. I said okay. Then she wanted to know if I’d throw anything in, like food. I said okay. Then she asked if I’d take $60 instead of $75 for the two birds. At this point I put my foot down and said no.
You know how people say “It’s not the money, it’s the principle of the thing,” but usually it really is the money? Well, for me, at this point, it really was the principle of the thing.
And I was feeling bad for my baby birds, who I was sending to live with this cheap, greedy woman and her run-on sentences and ugly email address.
Late yesterday afternoon I picked two little birds out for her, and gave them their last hugs and kisses, and moved them to their new cage. I put a coffee box in the cage for them to snuggle up in. I picked out a couple of toys from my toy stash for them. I was feeling very, very sad – not for me, but for them. The only thing that made me feel any better was knowing that at least they would have each other.
When it was almost time to put them in the car, I broke down and cried, and GC hugged me and said a bunch of encouraging things.
We drove them out to Bayshore, to this woman’s house. I’m pleased to report that she made a better impression in person than she did through email. She seemed more mature, and warmer. She was East Indian and she had a mother, and children, and a dog. A big family. Lots of people to love the little lovebirds. She’d bought food and a swing and toys for them. She asked all the right questions. She was okay.
I felt much better about leaving them there after meeting her. But I still don’t think I’ve got what it takes to be a bird breeder. I’m probably going to worry about them for the rest of my life.
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