Irony is the Shackles of Youth

I have named the budgie at the bird feeder, Pudgy, for that is what she is. I'm pretty sure its a she, consider that the skin around her beak isn't blue. Plan A to capture Pudgy has failed, so we are currently on Plan B.

After last night's spotting, miome posted to the local mailing list asking if anyone had lost a budgie. She got two responses. One was from a lady who stated that she had had luck capturing escaped budgies before. The other was from a gentleman who said his son had left a yellow bungee cord in the yard. How he expected said bungee cord to have mysteriously migrated from his yard to our bird feeder, I don't quite know.

Tonight Pudgy returned. Miome called the lady from the list and she came over with her cage and her own budgie. Plan A was to leave her budge in a cage outside and see if he would call the other to him. Alas, Pudgy got scared off when we went to put the cage out. We all went inside and watched through the French doors hoping Pudgy would return. Th male did his best to sing to her, but she was having none of it.

Plan B involved the nice lady from the list going and getting an empty cage. So now we have a cage with bird seed in it on our back porch. I'm hoping Pudgy will capture herself. If not, I will have to invest in a butterfly net. Sigh. The things I do for animals.

There is nothing I can say that will add to the WTF-ery nature has achieved.

I am humbled.

Often when something happens in my life (a cold, train ride, visits to another country, etc.), I'm tempted to write down my impression of it to use later for stories.

This is not one of those times. I would not wish this on my worst enemy much less one of my characters. On the rare occasion I come across an author using this as a plot point, I'm going to think "Low blow, author. Low blow."

What event am I talking about?

Coming into contact with poison oak/ivy/sumac and not realizing it in time to wash it off.

I now have a line of raised blisters on my arm and a rash around them that itches worse than anything I have ever encountered. I have had to trim my fingernails back because when I wake up in the morning/middle of the night it's to discover myself scratching frantically at my arm in my sleep. I have every anti-itch remedy I can fine in this house, and it still doesn't completely stop the itch. The blisters are nasty looking and if they pop, they weep and crust over. It's disgusting, but more than anything, it's itchy.

I'm not even 100% sure what I came into contact with. The entire back slope is a mess of vines and weeds. I'm pretty sure it's not poison ivy: I can instantly recognize that. Poison sumac is more shrub like than most of what we have back there. My guess is poison oak, which would be hard to distinguish from all the oak saplings and trees.

And of course, I discovered that I didn't immediately break out so I could then go wash it off. Oh no. My skin started itching and blistering almost 10 hours after I came in contact when the urushiol had had time to be absorbed. Hence the nice blisters. From what I've read on-line, the rash can continue to erupt up to 7 days after it first appears. This started Thursday. ;_;

Then again, maybe I can use this. Only instead of poison ivy, maybe I can give my characters silver poisoning or something. Because I guarantee after this, I'm not even going to want to hear the word poison ivy/oak/sumac for a long, long time.

I laughed so hard during this video. This is why actors say that they always hate working with animals.

You're being shagged by a rare parrot

Giant Sperm Is Ancient Evolutionary Tool, Study Finds

Can you imagine a sperm that's 10 times the size of the animal that makes it? The average height of a human male is around 5ft 9in (175.8cm). Multiply that sucker by 10 and you get a 57ft 8in (17.58m) sperm.

Try to sleep at night with that mental image. ^_^

Across from our apartment complex is a hospice where they care for the terminally ill. It's a fairly nice place. I see it every time we pull out of the apartment complex. This morning I noticed what I initially thought were two black garbage bags wrapped around something on the roof. I stared at them a moment until one of them moved. Then I realized they were two large black birds. They were too large to be hawks, but looked vaguely raptorial. All of a sudden it dawned on me what I was looking at.

There was a pair of black vultures perching on the hospice center.

Mother Nature has a sick, sick sense of humor. o_O

As a total aside, I would have known instantly what they were had they been Turkey Vultures. I saw those all the time in North Carolina and there's no mistaking that pink head of theirs. But these did not have a pink head, which means that this is the first time I've ever seen an American Black Vulture. I have a feeling I won't be forgetting it any time soon.