January 12th, 2003

loud fayoumis

The Window Trick

After a while, we had the "froggy little roosters", as they were called when they'd just turned into that croaking teenage stage of chick-hood, still rather indeterminate as to sex. We'd named them Hematite and Onyx, both of them being pure black, having learned the wisdom of androgynous names such as plant or mineral. Both were banties, and both turned out to be hens. Onyx was Narcissa's, and Onyx was an Old English: broad, prominent breast, lovely fan-tail, and more eyes than brain, the pure barely polished black of her name. Hematite was mine, and a banty Sumatra, with short black comb and greenly iridescent shine on her feathers, long tail drooping like a raven's. Hematite and Onyx were as sisters, and went everywhere together.

Their first winter, Onyx took sick, and the two had to come in the house while she recovered. We'd earlier tried, and discovered our error, at grabbing one of the two to pet and hold without grabbing the other. Onyx would cry (piercingly: Old English screech!) and Hematite would fret in her raven-voiced way.

FatherSir discovered, on his own, the folly in grabbing just one. He'd picked up Onyx, and he'd picked her up with less care than he might have, and she yelled about it. That set off Hematite. FatherSir found, much to his surprise, that he was holding two little black hens: Onyx, in his hand, and Hematite, dangling by her beak with a mouthful of the skin of the back of his hand in her sharp little mouth, screeching bloody murder all the while.

The neighbors came over, to see what was the matter.

After that, no one separated Hematite and Onyx.

Onyx got the idea in her cute little black head with the floppy red comb that she, after her winter in the house, needed to lay her tiny white eggs in the bathroom. Nothing would do with the nest boxes in the henhouse. She'd fuss about them, scream about them... we decided, after comparing the size of the egg (she laid every other day) and the size of the bird, that the eggs must have really bad cramps along with them. Mama and I sympathized.

So Hematite and Onyx would hop up onto the steps and wait until someone opened the screen door, and jump in the house.

One day, the door was completely closed, and Onyx wanted to come in. Narcissa and Mama and I were doing something, when there was a disturbance at the window by the couch. Silly little Onyx was trying to perch on the moulding of the outside of the picture window, and not doing a very good job, as it was so narrow. She beat her wings against the window, trying to keep her balance.

We rushed to the door to tell Onnie to get her fool self off the window ledge before she bashed her silly little head against the glass. As we swept aside the screen door, Hematite jumped up, and a few moments later, Onyx came running around the corner and leaped in the house after Hematite.

It got to be a habit for them, after that. Onyx would knock on the window, and Hematite would wait around the corner at the door, to distract the person from closing the door until Onyx got inside.
loud fayoumis


Ever lived with teenage chickens? They're noisy and clumsy. We had four long-legged, yellow-legged, utterly teenage Aracauna hens at once.

The 'Caunas were not civilized. The Rhode Island Reds pretended to be civilized. The 'Caunas weren't.

My favorite two 'Cauna moments both involved a severe need for speed.

It was usually Aurora and George who clupped up the most. George would squawk whenever you grabbed her, "Clup clup clup clup clup!" and that's how they got their name. They always ran everywhere on those long yellow legs.

One fine morning, two 'Caunas were running, full tilt, across the yard. Their trajectories intersected, and there was the inevitable collision. With the impeccable grace of twin pinballs, the hens bounced off each other and exchanged energies, the one hen now running in the other hen's original direction, and the other hen headed towards the destination, if not destiny, of the first.

Another day, there was another 'Cauna intersection. The whole family had been advised of what had happened with the first noted collision, so we waited to see what would happen. This time, one planted a big yellow foot on the moving back of the other, and went over, while the other ducked and squawked some, but both continued on their rushed, if not merry, ways.
running, bomb tech


'vicious omnivores'. 'violent carnivores'. Whee! Aliens and mistranslations, oh my!
running, bomb tech

(no subject)

"And that is in the original Klingon, right?"

Much more readable than David Weber. ...Okay, that's not saying much, but I can, at 3:22 in the flippin' morning, follow the battle stuff. And I'm not military.
running, bomb tech

In short...

...my mind's been falling apart since September, and the closest person that all of me knows I can trust, body and bone, is Darkside.

I at least have that. Gods help me if I didn't.
running, bomb tech


Got to talk to Darkside for about an hour. He was reading the latest Wheel of Time book, and we had long companionable silences where he was reading and I was off in space somewhere.

I miss him.

We'd both like to get together sometime when his schedule allows.
running, bomb tech

Spam in the morning...

When your brain is permageeked, seeing something about free sample jars of skin moisturizer can bring thoughts such as "But Gungans don't need to moisturize", followed by, "Eeewwwwww...." after your eye randomly sees one word twice.
running, bomb tech


The water service for this apartment complex will be down tomorrow (Monday, Joshian New Year) from appx. 0800-1300.

We are all doing the shower thing this evening for optimal low-skank tomorrow.
running, bomb tech

Mods & Upgrades

The band on my KSUA watch has been broken for the longest time. I finally took the handy-dandy razorblade/letter opener and removed the band, and threaded the watch itself, which is still good, onto my keychain.
running, bomb tech


Finally got laundry put away.
running, bomb tech


Headed out with the incomparable yaksha42 to catch Gollum in action again. Poor guy. Poor Smeagol... and I'd like to punt Gollum across the room...