Tag Archives: bird

I added a favicon to the site!

Posted on 02/26/2011 by Tempy| 6 Comments

Thanks to Cali4Beach’s excellent set of instructions on how to add a favicon (the picture next to the url), I have added a favicon to the site! I may change it at some point in the future, but for now, I’ve used a rendering of my parrot’s head. I thought that it would be colorful and distinctive enough to look less blobular than a more pertinent (pertinence? HA!) icon would be.

At this point, I must say that I would have loved to have access to a program like Adobe Illustrator. I used it briefly for a high school Multimedia class and it is perfect for logos. Since it is vector-based instead of bitmap-based, resizing an image was a breeze. With photoshop, I created my 16×16 pixel file and zoomed in so I could work on it. However, what resulted was something I feel I could perfect if I had more patience and a vector program.

Anyhow, I suppose I should post something a little more amusing while I’m here. I spent most of the day hanging out with my mom. I walked Jack at some point, watched a couple movies with the Erin that lives three houses down, and finally, decided to get Birby out.

To do this, I had to put the dog in his kennel (long ago, I would have let him out (he would have LOVED that), but my parents want to sell this house, so we can’t let him tear up the grass with his spastic running). Poor Jack. He never goes into the kennel unless he has done something wrong.

I slipped a couple treats in there with him, as much to alleviate my own guilt as to make him feel better about the entire ordeal. I mean, it’s a sad situation that I have to punish one pet to make the other happy. However, since Birby rarely gets out of the cage anymore (I’m one of three people in my family who can handle him and Dad’s work hours are crazy), this needed to be done.

I put Birby on my shoulder and commenced… doing relatively nothing. Birby is a curious little thing and it was all I could do to keep him from climbing up my arm and onto a shelf when I was putting away the glasses from the dishwasher. He then climbed down the collar of my shirt and clung by a single toenail so he might be able to reach what I was holding.

I kept him out for a while (I am STILL surprised he didn’t get mad at me until I tried putting him back in the cage. That’s always an ordeal since he bites. So I have to use a brown towel. He’s got no problem with the brown towel as long as we’re not touching it. Otherwise, he associates it with his two least favorite activities: being put back into the cage and getting his beak and wings trimmed.

All of that excitement tired him out. He’s sleeping really soundly now:

Birby Sleeping

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Posted in Digital Storytelling, Pets, Uncategorized

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Meet My Parrot

Posted on 02/23/2011 by Tempy| 6 Comments

I have a parrot. He is probably evil.

We got Birby when I was in fourth grade, after we had gotten a Cockatiel named Gabby (a poor second-hand bird we got for free because his owners hated how loud he could get). When I was in fourth grade, Black-headed Caiques were too exotic and scary. I preferred the Cockatiels (we wound up getting Gabby a friend, a bird with likely mental deficiencies who bullied him like it was going out of style named Maneena).

When we got Birby, he seemed really friendly. We were going to name him T-Rex. Not sure why, but mom found a picture of them online and liked what the website had named them. So he (we THINK it’s a he) became Birby. Caiques are not sexually dimorphic.

If I recall correctly, Birby’s first victim was my aunt. She had gotten him to fall asleep in her arms. He then woke up and proceeded to bite her.

Birby’s antisocial behavior began to take on patterns. First, it was only directed at people outside of the “flock” that he just didn’t like. Then it got so that he couldn’t tolerate ANYBODY.

Emily came out of that with a bloody bird bite on her shoulder and one on her finger. Despite our precautions, that happened to a couple other people while we lived in that house.

When we moved to Germany, he bit my mom. That was weird because she was the primary feeder.

I took on that job soon after that. And, as far as I’m aware, my father (Birby’s faaaaaaaavorite), my brother, and myself are the only people who can regularly come into contact with Birby unscathed. Does that mean that we won’t be bitten? Heck no! I have a scar on my finger where Birby latched on that has been there for a few years now.

Anyhow, he’s a devious little thing. He tries to make himself look as cute and fluffy as possible when we have guests over so they might stick their fingers in his cage or let him out. If I’m holding him and a person gets close, he’ll bite me to get to that person. If something startles him, he’ll bite the person holding him. If he doesn’t get what he wants, he’ll bite the person holding him. I remember a morning where I had put him on my shoulder and he bit me when he decided that he wanted the banana my mom was eating.

My sister once opened an umbrella in the house when I was holding Birby. He freaked out and bit me.

I rubbed his neck the wrong way. He bit me.

I approached his cage wearing a bike helmet. He didn’t recognize me, and bit me.

About half of the time he bites, he draws blood.

On the other hand, when he’s affectionate/cute, he’s very VERY affectionate/cute. He “digs” in the rumpled towel we put on the table. He lets my father rub his neck and under his wings for long periods of time. He makes peeping noises when I speak quietly to him.

Oh, and he talks. Not very much mind (not very clear either), but it’s amusing enough to hear him rattle off words when the sink is running. Example:

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The Hero’s Journey Part One: Leaving home

Posted on 02/03/2011 by Tempy| 11 Comments

"Hidden Home" Ithaca, NY, designed by Helen Binkerd Young, graduate of Cornell's architecture program ...

I left home when I was 16. My mother had fallen grievously ill and one night my father was out smoking his pipe and he saw a silver bird alight in the holly tree above him.

It told him the only cure was to find the Root of Life, located on the other side of the world.

He called the four of us into the kitchen and said, “My children, you being young and healthy, the lights of my waning years, I bear a heavy weight in my chest for I fear I have to send you out into the world. You well know that your mother is ill, that the pall of death is cast over her. This night I have received a message from on high that her salvation may be found on the other side of the earth.”

He took my brother aside and spoke to him first. I did not hear what he said, or what he handed to my brother.

After their conversation, my father sent him to the North.

I, the second child, spoke with my father next. He bequeathed to me a knife, given to him by his uncle. He told me it had properties that would help me on my journey. He sent me to the South.

Looking back at the house from the bottom on the hill, I saw him speak to the second youngest and send her to the West. The youngest he sent to the East.

This is the beginning of the story. Write the next part and post the link to this post with it, then post the link to your part as a comment and we’ll keep this going. Or you can follow whatever links already exist and add onto those threads of narration! Rules: Post a picture with your part of the story (Creative Commons, plz) and please narrate in first person.

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