Micco and the Rabbit Hole

So much has changed since my last post, I feel like I fell down the rabbit hole with Alice.

We moved again.   Oh, not to some classy place like  Boca or even Vero, where I would be appreciated and admired.  No, we moved to Micco.  You don't even have to say it --- I've already covered it, and it's not on the map.  Just tell your friends I am 4 miles south of Grant.  Unfortunately, I don't think Grant is on the map either.

Now don't get me wrong, we finally got an outdoor enclosure as promised -- but it certainly could use my decorative touch.  Well, what can I say?  I do my best with what is given me.

You can't believe how quiet the past 3 weeks have been.  Joe the Toy Maker and my Executive Assistant/Slave decided that taking care of all of us was simply too difficult.  Of course, I was safe from the cut.  It had to be a toss-up between RIP and Silvio.  If you guessed the screeeeecher lost out, Bingo!

Funny thing about quiet-it's highly over-rated.  This place was more like a tomb than a room.  With Silvio away at MARS (www.marsparrots.org)  for what appears to have been a spa vacation, I almost forgot how to curse.

Well, the surprise is on me. My assistants actually missed that pain-in-the-tail feathers.  When I awoke from this afternoon's nap, who should be coming through the door but Silvio (aka Cracker), umbrella top-knot standing up like the headdress of a drag queen in Vegas.  I saw that on Criminal Minds late one night through a peep hole I chewed in my blanket.  Do you think that may be one reason the office is being turned into our sleep room?  No, surely not.  Maybe all the screeching and resultant cursing has something to do with it.  Then again, the office IS quite colorful and it is high time my ES figured out I'm worth it.

From now on, Silvio gets a stay-cation and I get the spa treatment.  Don't they know who I am??  I'm encouraged that my fans are more perceptive.

This is Roxanne echoing to you from the edge of the rabbit hole until next time my ES is willing to type for me or I get the voice recognition software I ordered. Late night TV and the Shopping Network are a dangerous duo in my talons.

Job Opportunity May Be Coming Soon!

FANS: If you love me, and want to hear from me more often, you may need to post some encouraging words on facebook.

Let me tell you now ----- If I can't get my 'Executive Secretary' to be more efficient and professional, I will reluctantly begin the tedious process of interviewing for new help.

There is one point in her favor.  Yesterday she received 3 cookbooks from BirdTricks.com that are totally dedicated to recipes for parrots!  I see this as a positive sign that she is trying to ingratiate herself, and none too soon.

Admittedly, Joe the Toy Maker has had his ups and downs, what with back surgery and an appendectomy, and now rehabilitation and massage --- but it must be reaffirmed that the pecking order around here has not changed because of obvious human frailties.  They come with the host. Humans simply don't live as long as we, due to complications I can't begin to understand.  Still, I watch him make birdie toys almost every night, and I must admit his skills are rapidly improving.  Trying to amuse me is a full-time job.

I must say, I am enjoying the jungles that my assistants made for me and my two brothers. We are able to be outside our cages for long periods of time, and since they removed the carpeting under us, we can poop wherever we like!  One thing my 'ES' is good at is cleaning and sanitizing after the poop hits the concrete.

I have heard talk of plans to make outdoor flight cages but have not seen anything on paper.  I should be the first consulted since I am, after all, one that can actually fly. My brothers are getting better at gliding. But full flight is my purview and should never be forgotten.  Since moving to Grant we have all regrown our flight feathers.  It's simply too windy all the time to let us fly outside over the Indian River.  Not to mention the hawks and bald eagles that swoop around the place catching fish and the occasional squirrel.  But an outdoor flight aviary?  Oh please, be still my fluttering heart.

New pictures will hopefully follow this post, so you can see me at my best, up in my jungle.  I make no promises.  I'm still trying to figure out how to type with talons.  If my ES ever puts voice recognition software on this baby, she will doom herself to obsolescence as my blogger.  One can only hope. Then she can spend more time in the kitchen whipping up birdie goodies while I do as I please.  To paraphrase Joseph Campbell, I will then be able to follow my bliss. (That sometimes involves chewing up art supplies.)

The Usual Prevening Riot

Good prevening to all you Big Bang Theory fans out there (too early to be called evening, thus, prevening).  By the way, if you are not a huge fan of The Big Bang Theory, what are you thinking?  Oh Wait --- you are NOT thinking!

Prevening, and here I am eating leftovers again.  Well, to be honest, my bowl of extruded parrot pellets was 'freshened up' by my Executive Assistant.  Translation:  'freshened up' = dump in a few more of the same chunks and stir, while making 'cutzy noises' in an attempt to distract me from the obvious --- SSDD.  
Ah well, it works on my brothers.  I'm holding out, because I know I shall soon be receiving my good-night treat, or as Silvio calls it 'night night tweetzy, oh yea  .Oh My God Twitzy twizy twitzy time".  You get the picture, but you can't possibly feel my pain.  He is a screeeeeeecer.
1 really need to help him work on his diction.

Speaking of diction -- RIP has come a long way.  He actually has a wee conversation with me now. It goes something like this:

Roxy: RIP, you ok?
RIP: I ok. You ok?
Roxy: Yep, I'm ok.  You ok, Buddy?
RIP: I ok.  You ok?
ad nauseam

Around here we take what we can get.  It's an improvement over the interminable 'HeyHeyHeyHeyHey' and 'RIPRIPRIPRIPRIP'.

He's a challenge, that's for sure. But he does try, bless his heart.  (That's a southern expression roughly translated 'dumb as dirt but sweet'.)

Then there's Silvio.  What can I say?  Ah yes--- Joe was listening to the radio, and I heard what can only be meant to be Silvio's theme song: LET'S START A RIOT by Three Day's Grace.  Google it, and feel my pain.

It is approaching the evening and darker than usual due to the rainy day we are experiencing.  I wonder if my native Congo is as humid as central Florida.  I'll have to google that tomorrow; not that I would consider moving to a country about which I know little--- but knowledge for its own sake can be helpful.  For instance, when Sheldon was trying to explain the concept of Schrodinger's Cat to Penny, I was right on top of that.  Just glad it wasn't Schrodinger's Parrot.

To all my fans out there wondering if I had flown the coop, I can only say when you aren't exacting during the interview process, you may end up with an executive assistant like mine.

Moving to Grant, FL has been a trip.  I love my new room with a view of the Indian River, and all the activity I can watch all day.  My brothers aren't behaving AS badly, most of the time.  Lots to see and do, however... my assistant has been so busy decorating, organizing, and gardening that my own needs for self-expression have fallen low on her list of priorities.  It's only to be expected; she has the attention span of a gnat.

I believe it is safe to say that, having wrestled control back from her, I will be center stage once again on a  more regular basis.  We have re-negotiated the terms of her contract, and per that conversation, you will be hearing a LOT more of me.

NOW We're Talkin'!

I'm 'on the fly', so to speak, getting in a quick message before my brother, Cracker starts to Alarm the household.  Joe is snoring, so my Executive Assistant is available, albeit unwilling.

We are MOVING!

Either that, or this apartment has become a 'Mail and More'.

Grant, Florida: Current Population-1841, perched upon the island-bejeweled Indian River, below where it merges with the Banana River at the tip of Merritt Island.

Sounds all tropical and breezy, right?  So that's the excuse for my long absence from you, my many fans.  Our little house (so I've heard) has a 'Florida Room' that is 'for the birds', facing the Indian River (well, at least a boat ramp and parking lot thereon), that will be loaded with bird-friendly palms and other flora, playtrees, toys and treats.  We--Shall--See!

But I had to take this opportunity to introduce you to my new hero, Einstein the Texas African Grey!  She is now connected to my PLOG! (Word has gotten out that I, Rosanne, am online!)  I get to watch her videos at least once a day!  She is now my roll model.  If you need a good laugh, visit her web site.  She is Amazing! Best of all, she looks like ME, and after all, it IS all about ME, isn't it?

Hoping to be back to entertain you soon --- I am now going to slip back under my cover in the hope that Cracker didn't hear nails clicking on the laptop keys.  I'm fine, but take my word for it, my Executive Assistant R-E-A-L-L-Y needs more beauty sleep.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

HO HO ho-hum .... Holly Daze??? POOP!

W(what")T(the)F(flock)!

I have never seen such ineptitude! Well, yes I have, but really, is that any excuse? I have been full of myself for 2 weeks and not a single opportunity to post on my own plog.

WANTED: An Executive Assistant that will work for crumbs!

Is that too much to ask?

She's been making 'chop' (parrot veggie mix), cleaning cages, floors and bowls, making holiday greeting cards, ordering bird toy parts, doing laundry (and no, I do NOT accept any responsibility for her bad timing where poop is concerned), decorating for something called Holly Daze, and generally ignoring my creative needs.

I don't get this entire Holly Daze thing.  More work for HER, less time for ME.  As I see it, what's to celebrate?

WAIT A MINUTE!!  I spy bright colored plastic and wooden shapes, strips of leather, cotton twine sticking out of the just-opened UPS box.  WooHoo!!!

Maybe this SANDY CLAWZ guy I keep hearing about will come through again this year and show up with some rad toyz!

HAPPY HOLLY DAZE!

Y--E--S!!!!

Finally --- Divine Retribution!!

I am sunning myself in the courtyard, making phone calls, practicing my show tunes and rock numbers, generally being 'above the fray', and Cracker is having 'nappy time' in the bedroom.

Some days get better as they go along.

Now if RIP will stop making his 'space ship' noises, it will be a prefect afternoon!

Hostage Situation!!!

It is 7:45 am, and I am soooooooo over this morning routine!

When 'Cracker' (aka: Silvo the Umbrella Cockatoo -- see photos below of his 'Shower Sequence')  first came to live with us, I felt sorry for his silly butt.  Now?  Not so much.  In truth, I feel self-pity in great swells that match his screeches.

Here's the drill:

5:30 am:
squawk............squawk.................squawk........................squawk........................

(That would be Cracker's bad imitation of Joe's alarm clock reminding him to take his morning meds -- but since Joe is home from work now with his bad back, we don't need to wake him at 5:30. Does Cracker care?  No!  Does he care that I don't want to get up before the sun. NO!)

5:40 am:
squawk........squawk..............squawk............................

(That would be Cracker's bad imitation of Joe's snooze alarm, which, we don't need either.)

Repeat above at 10 minute intervals until either your head explodes or 6:10 am comes and Cracker gets serious about his 'duties' as the family alarm clock.

6:10 am: squawk............squawk........  Squawk..............SQuawk....................SQUawk.............SQUAwk.............SQUAWk..............SQUAWK............................ SQUAAAAAAAAAAAWK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SCREECH...SCREECH..SCREECH........SCREEEEEEEEECH!!!!!!!!ad nauseam

By no later than 6:30 am, MY Executive Assistant is folding birdie cage covers, getting fresh water, making snacks, and in general, waiting on Cracker instead of doing MY bidding, which is what she is paid to do.

Now I ask, IS THIS EQUITABLE?  

Even as I dictate, Cracker is on the couch beside My Assistant, hiding under an old table clothe he has adopted for his interminable 'peek-a-boo' sessions, while she tries to type, keep him from chewing the already-shredded couch cover, or from falling off the couch backwards.  This is what she must do every day of my life in order to keep the peace in the morning.  

HELP!  I'm being held hostage by a Cracker!!!

It's a Dawg's Life

Don't get me wrong, dogs are fine (in their place), but that place is NOT in the bird cages of my parrot brothers, in the courtyard.

Confused?  Imagine how our neighbors much have felt this afternoon, when my bird-brained brothers had a barking contest.  Seriously, can't a gal sun herself in peace while practicing show tunes?  Not around this zoo.

I'm considering requesting private time outdoors.  These sibling issues are beginning to take their toll.  I've forgotten the intro to 'Singing in the Rain', one of my best tunes. And why dawgs, anyhow? My guess is they are too dumb to mimic catz.  And if I may say so, that's just sad.

I have to say, they do put an entirely new spine to the expression, 'Barking Mad'.

It's late, my Executive Assistant has 'a sleeping pill with her name on it' (that's a quote), and I have an early practice in mind.  I think a few rousing bars of my latest favorite, Smoke on the Water, should be payback enough for the Dawg fight.  What do you think??  "bomp bomp bomp, bomp bomp ba bomp, bomp bomp bomp, bomp-bomp----

(If you are too old to know what song I'm referring to, don't admit it -- hint --- my current fav color is 'Deep Purple' --wink.)

Gobble, Gobble, Gobble!!

I mean really, if you don't believe turkeys are dumb, ask yourself this question: why in the world would you pick 'Gobble' as your signature call, when you end up being shot and gobbled up on holidays?  I'd try making a sound like a freight train, for crying out loud!

But seriously, we had chicken --- (speaking of dumb clucks---just sayin') and it was delish.  Of course, we are not allowed more than a beak-full of anything we really like.  Go figure.  And Freada actually says 'that's not good for the birdies' as she stuffs yet another Hershey's white-chocolate peppermint Kiss in her mouth.  What hypocrisy!  I suppose she is determined to keep us healthy or die trying.

I have been viewing YouTube videos of other parrots talking. I believe this is being forced on me as a means to get me to speak on command.  As if.  I don't think you will be seeing me on the internet saying, 'Gobble, Gobble, Gobble...' any time soon.  I have much too much dignity for that.

However, if anyone reading this plog can talk my Executive Assistant into giving me peanuts on demand, we can discuss 'options'.  I do not come free, but I do have my price.

Hope all my fans had a Happy Bird-day!!

Speaking for Parrots---

May I just vent?

Good help is hard to find.  Seriously, I am bubbling over with pithy repartee, and no assistant in sight.  I don’t mean to insinuate that my needs are neglected: on the contrary, I am well cared for physically; it’s my creative spirit that is malnourished, and merely for the lack of opposable thumbs.  I really must learn to hunt and peck on the keyboard. 

Enough about my tribulations---

I am ecstatic to relay the news that my brother RIP can finally call me by name!  Most of you would not recognize ‘Roxy’ when said by RIP, but I know it’s what he’s trying for. What a little trouper!

Silvio (aka: Cracker) is now saying ‘water’ – and since he talks like Elmo, you can imagine how it sounds. (roflmfo)  (Roll on floor, laugh my feathers off.)

I, on the other hand, refuse to simply ask for water or to acknowledge the receipt of same.  I would rather do sound effects.  When anyone needs or receives fresh water, I make the sound of an office water cooler gurgling.  It’s always good for laughs, which is great for diverting attention away from questionable behaviors. I admit it: I’m not perfect, but I am brilliant. That is why I take it upon myself to translate for my brothers, (as well, on occasion, for the family catz).  Speaking for parrots is much less annoying than having to listen to them squawking all day.  When all else fails, I chastise.  Some days I wonder who is in charge around here.

Cirque de Squirreleil

Bonjour, all you cirque fans out there.  I have been on an enforced sabbatical, due to the erratic schedule of my Executive Assistant.  But tonight, I drew the line.  After all, it isn't every day a squirrel capers over the palm fronds, drops into the frangipani, and skitters across the drain pipe, to the tune of 'Raiders of the Lost Ark', (my latest dramatic, melodic interpretation).

How and why, you ask?  Only another rodent could say.  I am too far superior a species to even speculate, but on the way from the mailbox, the drama unfolded.  That squirrel was hell-bent on out-running us, and I was forbidden to fly in pursuit. Drat!  When I publish my memoirs and can hire more tractable aid, these problems will sort themselves out.  Until then, I am at the mercy of a human with 'issues'.

Sorry to plog and fly (so to speak) but there are only a few moments until it's "good night treat-zy time", (to quote my feather-brained Cockatoo brother, 'Cracker' aka Silvio) and I need to get in a few more bars of practice.

Brush up your Shakespeare

I am inspired by my Executive Assistant's readings of late.

She has been immersed in Macbeth. 

I am improving my vocabulary daily.  'Hark' is a new favorite, as is 'bodkin'. 

'To be, or not to be...'    

Good question for Cracker (aka: Silvio) at around 6 am when he first woke me today.

Methought I heard a parrot cry, “Sleep no more!

Silvio does murder sleep”—the innocent sleep,

(which explains why Silvio woke ME! After all, I never claimed to be innocent. 

One so well informed would be displaying false modesty to claim 'innocence'---nes pa?)

Sleep that zips up the frazzled feather of care,

Ah --- I wax poetic now when least expected!

This Shakespeare must have had a parrot.

GOOD NIGHT!!!!

I will be the first to give credit where credit is due.  My brother, Cracker (aka: Silvio) has been known to break me up on occasion.  It isn't that he's a brilliant linguist, or has a rapid-fire delivery.  His appeal is hard to explain. Let me give you one example: the other night it was bedtime. Cracker is less than calm at this time of night. Recently, the following scene played out for all the neighbors to hear---

Cracker:  Night-night treat-zy time!! YEA!!!!!
I want another one!  I want another one!  I want another one!!!
THERE IT IS ----- OH MY GOD!!! I want another one!!!

Me (Roxanne):  Haaaaaaaaaahahahahaha ----- GOOD NIGHT!!!!

OK - I'll admit it --- I have been easily amused lately.  I really need to get out more.

Late Night Conversation

Cracker: (aka Silvio the Umbrella Cockatoo) "Squawk..."
Freada: (aka My Executive Assistant) "Shhhhh..."
Cracker: "Squaawk..."
Freada: "SHhhhhhhhhhh..."
Cracker: "Squaaaaaaaaaaaawk!"
Freada: "SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"
Cracker: "SQUAAAAAAAAWK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Freada: "Shut the f**k up!!!"
Cracker: "o-k..."

Roxanne: "SHHHHHhhhhhhhh!!!!"

OHHHHHH Brother!!

I was barely settled in to my home, and had just begun the training process for my servants when another parrot came on the scene.  I’ll admit, he is one gorgeous little Amazon, all yellow-crested with amazing plumage, but honestly?  Dumb as a stump.

My main servant, Freada spent an inordinate amount of time researching Portuguese words, seeking a suitable name for him.  Poor little guy! He had been abandoned, and then caught up in a nasty divorce.  Servants can really pluck you up—if you follow me.

This naming process was arduous.  Finally hitting upon a word that meant “Golden Opportunity”, in reference to his amazing gold eyes, Freada chose ‘Propicio’.  Right----

What they didn’t know is this little guy was trying very hard to tell them his name.  So I was finally forced to pass the information on, just to keep some semblance of what was left of my sanity!

He kept saying, ‘rip---rip-----rip------‘ .

After a couple of days of this, I took the bird by the beak, so to speak.  I yelled back, “HEY-RIP!!!!"

He was so happy, he then began yelling “HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY!!!!!

Be careful what you wish for.

Suffice it to say, his name in RIP.  He LOVES Freada, HATES Joe, which is the diametrical opposite of how I feel on any given day, so it’s a wash.

I have to say though, he smells sooooooooo good.  Reminds me of Jasmine and Gardenias and sexy music.  Did I just say that out loud?  RIP!

The Manic Ride Home

I haven’t always led the privileged life I do today.  Not that I haven’t always deserved it – but realistically, I lost my youthful naiveté when my first servant decided to name me Elvis.  Young people just think they discovered ‘sexting’ (or is it sexing?).  At any rate, after the results of DNA tests, my gender was reassigned and I was given my true name, Roxanne.   I was hatched, and weaned from hand-feeding in South Florida – Native Floridian, and proud to be so. (Just don't call me Cracker -- than name has been assigned by me for my 'Too brother. See other posts for details.)

While with my first servant, I began my colorful and ever-expanding vocabulary, and the use thereof.  When she was no longer able to provide the care I demand, my new servants came along – gullible and inexperienced – just the way I like them.

A small truck was enlisted to transport my cage and play tree.  I allowed myself the safety of a small carrier with peep holes, ensconced in the front seat of a Firebird.  I thought, now we’re talking. Little did I know that thought was prophetic .

My driver/servant seemed unable to contain herself.  “Oh, Roxanne, I am so happy to have you...we are going to have so much fun and  I have new toys waiting for you and  I found some parrot training videos we can watch together and you can learn tricks and…. 

Oh  -  my  -  God.  Would this servant never stop talking?  When at last she took a breath, I gave my unvarnished opinion of her entire discourse with my favorite word at the time…

What----EV--ER!!!

That shut her up. 

And I am proud to say I have astonished her on a daily basis ever sense.  

Admittedly, with some servants, that is not as amazing as it sounds.

What's so funny?

I was trying to practice my music -- that's all. I have several tunes I'm working on and they require a lot of time and effort!  My favorite is the theme from 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly'.  I also like the intro to 'Singing in the Rain'.  I love writing my own music as well --- sort of a Jazz-Swing-Salsa fusion.  I'm very versatile.

Anyhow, when I try to warm up and practice early in the morning, Cracker --- I mean 'Silvio', squawks like a murder of crows.  This morning I lost it ! (again)    I told him in no uncertain terms, 'Shut up, and shut up ALL DAY!'

Apparently SOME Executive Assistants (who shall remain nameless) think my outrage is amusing.

Humans -- can't live with 'em--- can't live without 'em.  Honestly, I still can't figure out why she was laughing hysterically.  Was it something I said???

R-E-A-L-L-Y??

That's right --- R-E-A-L-L-Y is now my new fav word!!

"Where has Roxy been?', you must be asking yourselves, with dismay.  Glad you asked.  It's a long, boring story involving my Executive Assistant, something she calls 'kids' and 'grand kids' and 'relocating', which I have some personal knowledge of.   But let's not bore ourselves!  Let's talk about ME!

Contrary to popular opinion, I do not lead a charmed life.  For example: I am so OVER my brother, Silvio!  There's a reason they call him a 'too'.  He acts like he's "2" years old - I mean, can a girl get a break?  This 'Umbrella' (for lack of a nicer word) Cockatoo is a raging loon.  Bed time??  He starts jumping around yelling "Good-night Treat-zy Time" at the top of his substantial voice.  He hangs upside-down, capers, scampers, screeches and squeaks. I mean R-E-A-L-L-Y!  When he has issues, should the entire world have to know?

Here's the corker --- he has started saying a new word (all by himself, because I certainly didn't teach him THIS one).  Let's see if you can guess.  He's Big, White, Loud, Dumb, Silly, and LUVs his 'Mommy'.

Did you guess?  It's CRACKER!!! roflmtfo   (Roll on floor - laugh my tail feathers out).  Sooooooooooo----  Now I can say to him, "HEY, CRACKER!" -- and he doesn't even know he's getting his feathers tweaked!!  Haaaaaaaahahahaha  R-E-A-L-L-Y?!?!?  (Next time, don't ask.)