Mighty Fine Apple


We don’t grow a lot of apples in our yard in Southern California, so I have to show off this big beautiful Granny Smith.

I enlisted Dodger’s help to give it some scale, and then the California topo map because…boosterism, I guess.  This apple was grown between the L.A. Basin an the Mojave Desert, due west of Dodger’s right toenail.

Ulitmately, I think this photo says more about Dodger’s patience with his humans than it does about fruit or California.

5 x 5 : Day Four : I Spy With My Little Eye


People often ask if Dodger knows what he’s saying when he speaks English. Though he doesn’t always use language exactly as we would, we believe that he does sometimes mean what he says. Like today.

He made it clear by saying, “Want some water?” and bobbing in the direction of the tub that he bathes in that he wanted a bath. He likes to dip into a beer mug full of water. Can’t say why he won’t bathe in the whole big tub!

When the water got down a few inches, as in the photo, he said, “Water?” or “Want some water?”  I refilled it for him.

After repeating this for maybe fifteen minutes, he was done. No, he didn’t say, “You done?” which he does say when he is finished with his breakfast. He said, “Wanna cuddle?” Because usually he’s chilled and he wants to sit on a finger till his feet warm up.

I’m just sayin’.


Figured out my summer coffee fix today. Buy a tall blonde with a splash of soy milk and ask the barrista to fill my reusable cup up with ice. Pour the hot coffee over the ice, and viola! Iced coffee that’s not too strong. I can’t take the cold-brew they serve (and charge more for.)


The guest bathroom is starting to come together. I took a paint chip with me shopping and found this cool Indian print shower curtain, and some pumpkin colored towels. It’s starting to come together as warm and spicy. (Interesting since the wall color was a color match to the Bayeux Tapestry segment reproduction that hangs over the fire place.)


I love this bag. I get a lot of compliments on it. People think it’s some designer bag–“Is that an XXX?”–when in fact the image is from a series of tween books called Emily the Strange.

The only problem with it is that every once in a while the shoulder strap clip comes loose while it’s on my shoulder and the bag falls. Yesterday it did it again, and freakishly, the clip flipped up and hit me in my right eye.

The body is an amazing thing. I saw the silver clip right before it hit, but my lid closed in time. It feels bruised, but there’s not even a lot of bloodshot-ness.


Thank you, eyelid. I am so grateful that I can still spy with my little eye!

p.s. On Hydra’s recommendation, I wrapped tiny strips of silver duct tape around the clips so they won’t attack again. Yay, Hydra!

Oh Duck!

A couple of years ago, Dodger’s favorite thing to say was “quack!”  He uses some words and phrases in perfect context, but he also always has a favorite word or sound that he likes to repeat.  We’ve been graced with the frequent and solemn repetition of things like, “ooph!” or “parrot,” or his current favorite, “owl?”  (That’s another story…)

Our pal Says, who also shares his home with avian companions, heard Dodger repeating “quack quack quack” over early morning coffee at the campground we go to with our Songmakers friends.  So he gifted Dodger with this cute toy.  Dodger’s always been interested in it, but a little wary of it too.

This evening, I got it out to play with again.  Dodger was on my knee.  I pulled the duck’s head to make it croon “quack quack quack!” but the rubber band broke and it came apart in my hands.

Dodger was, of course, perfectly freaked out by this little demonstration of violence and took off fluttering into the next room, probably wondering what the lesson was supposed to be.

Reminds me of that joke about the parrot that everyone keeps telling us.

Sorry, little dude!  No  lesson!

Beauty Shot – Saturday 2/7/2009

Just the handsomest, smartest parrot on the planet. And he’s feeling it today.

Since joining 24 Hour Fitness, I don’t work out with DVDs at home very much. But the other night I wanted to get home before the rain, so I fell back on The Firm : Time Crunch. (45 minutes of aerobics and weights.)

As soon as I put the disc in the player, this little guy–who was sitting on top of his cage in the bedroom–starts up with the sound effects, “oof,” “umph,” “erghhh.”

Hey, I don’t sound like that!

When he got bored and started exploring the bed and nightstand behind me, I put him in his “house.”

As I’m working through my crunches I hear, in a most plaintive voice, “I love you soooo good.”

Unlike how I love him. Which is clearly deficient if I am willing to let him sit in his cage at all when I’m home.

I remember having pets that couldn’t talk. I always assumed they admired me.

Parrots Rights

No, he’s not supposed to get into the kitchen drawers. Yet for some inexplicable reason he has been obsessed with just this act of defiance for a few weeks now.

Must enter drawer. Must remove random lids and toss them to the floor!

Must defend rights of myself and all parrots everywhere to ransack kitchens, via terrifying display of ruffled neck and back feathers.

You may well quiver, humans!