Here Comes the Sun, Little Darlin', Here Comes The Sun It's All Right

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Mom spent quite the while updating her website today, so I told her while she was at it she needed to let me post on my blog.

It's been a good day, and I really wanted to tell you all about it. Besides being Saturday, which I really like, because my parents are usually here and I get to be out of my cage all day, it was sunny and warm (relatively speaking) and Mom took me outside today for the first time in months! I know, that's a bit of a run-on sentence, but I'm excited.

Now I have no idea why this is, but Zemanta (Mom got me the application so I could get cool pictures and stuff to go with my posts) just this minute spit up about 147 pictures of Tiger Woods's house. Mom says she's tired of hearing about Tiger Woods. She would rather have a picture of Paul McCartney or The Beatles. I don't know who they are. I know that song, though, about the sun, because Mom sings it to me all the time. I mean, all. the. time. As in every single morning at sunrise. And again during the day, like if it's cloudy and the sun comes out. I guess it was kinda cute the first 1,000 times or so, but jeez.

Do you guess she's hoping I'll learn to sing it? Fat chance.

But I digress. We did all (me, Mom, and Bane, that is) go out and sit on the deck together. Mom says she used to take Larry out at the old office, but his cage is too big to fit through the sliding glass door here because Bane's doggie door makes it so narrow. So he didn't go out with us. If he was finger-trained, he could go out in my travel cage I guess, but Mom says he's "wilder 'n a ditch cat". I don't know what a ditch cat is. A cat that lives in ditches, maybe?

Anyway, to get back to my story, when we all got outside, Mom went down into the yard and tried to get the dog to chase a ball, but that was strictly a no go. Bane's supposed to be at least part retriever but you couldn't prove it by me. So Mom gave up on her after a few minutes and came back up on the deck and sat with me.

She turned her face up to the sun and shut her eyes, and I thought she was doing that meditating thing again so I started saying "Om!" to help her, but she said this wasn't formal meditation. She was just "practicing mindfulness," whatever that means exactly. Like I said last week, parrots are naturally mindful, so I don't really get what Mom needs to practice. Especially outdoors: If I'm not mindful, a hawk might sneak up on us or something. So I'm nothing if not mindful. Especially outdoors. You know, in case of hawks?

I really like sitting outside. Today the sun was so bright it had that almost blue quality like it did when it snowed a couple of weeks ago. Except if I closed my eyes it looked red inside my eyelids. Isn't that strange? Blue, red, blue, red. Either color, it felt warm on the skin on my chest, where I've plucked. Mom said it made kind of a halo shining through the short feathers on my head. I could see how it was doing something like that in the fur on this squirrel's tail. That was kind of cool. Mom kept telling me I was a Pretty Bird, which is kind of sweet, especially since my chest really doesn't look so hot. Maybe I should be nicer to her, since she says nice things to me like that all the time.

Or not.

We saw and heard some other birds today. A Tufted Titmouse perched really close to us and kept doing that "Peter, Peter, Pete!" thing. I thought maybe that was its mate's name, but Mom says not, that they're all called titmice. Now what sense does that make, for everybody to all have the same name? And why would they keep calling "Peter, Peter, Pete!" if that's not anybody's name at all? I don't understand. Especially since Mom would whistle "Peter, Peter, Pete!" back at it, and it would answer her. Why would it do that if that wasn't its name? I was really interested in that. Mom would whistle, and it would whistle. And I would tilt my head almost all the way around and listen hard. But I couldn't figure it out. So I didn't whistle. I think Mom was kind of hoping I would.

And a Mourning Dove came too. I used to could mimic their calls, but this one wasn't saying anything so I didn't either. We heard this one bird that sounded like one of the dog's squeaky toys: Mom said that was a Brown-headed Nuthatch. And something was scratching around in the dead leaves by the fence, but with the sun in our eyes we couldn't tell what it was. Mom kept naming birds for me if they called or came by: I don't know why she does that. I don't need to know their names. It's not even their real names, anyway--just what humans call us.

Anyways, we heard a woodpecker drumming, a cardinal, a goldfinch, and a Pine Warbler, and we saw robins and a Ruby-crowned Kinglet. We did not see (or hear) a Scarlet Robin, but I've noticed that every time I post here, no matter what I'm writing about, Zemanta kicks up a picture of one. Mom says we don't even have those here. Zemanta is weird. She says its thinking is "loose". That's some kind of psychological term, I guess. I don't know what it means, but it sounds about right.

Mom likes all the songbirds that come into the yard. And I've seen her get really excited about owls and hawks, too, even thought they might eat me. I kind of resent that. But she always tells me it's okay, they're outside and can't get to me through the glass. I know she would never take me out if there were hawks out there, and if one came she'd bring me right in. And in between, she never leaves me alone. Ever. Not even for a minute. But still. I wish she wouldn't get so excited about birds of prey.

Now the songbirds I kind of like: Not having a real flock of my own to hang out with, I find them kind of interesting. And they're littler than me, so I don't get scared of them. But I don't get as excited about them as Mom does.

Mom tried to get me to sit with her when we got outside, but I wouldn't. I prefer my Dad, and he was inside napping. Usually when I won't step up for her, she just lets it go, but today she told me we could just pretend to sit together, and she took my t-perch off the picnic table and put it in her lap! We were like nose to nose then. I can't believe she did that. That was tricky.

I usually won't let her pet me, either. I really do prefer my Dad! But she got the bright idea today of petting me with both of her hands at the same time. With one hand on one side of me, and one on the other, I didn't know which to bite, and I sure couldn't bite them both at the same time. So there I was, sitting on her lap on my t-perch, getting petted, and me not even trying to bite. She even scritched me under my good wing! I can't believe she did that. Tricky.

And dang, I didn't want to admit it, but it was actually kind of nice. She knew it too, because I wasn't pinning. She looked right pleased with herself. In fact, she kept smiling, which was kind of uncomfortable for me, all those teeth so close to my face, and then she'd keep remembering and covering her teeth with her lips until she'd start feeling pleased and smiling again. At least she remembered to close one eye. Most of the time.

There was this little breeze that ruffled her hair and my feathers and the dead leaves in a little scrub oak outside the fence. And I guess I must have been kind of vibrating, because Mom asked me if I was cold, or just excited. I wish she spoke parrotese better, so I could make her understand I was just really, really happy to be outdoors. But she said we had to come in after about half an hour because she was afraid her face would burn, and maybe the bare spots on my chest, too. And she wasn't sure if it was too cool for me.

Wow! This has turned into a long post! I'm tired but happy now, and I think I'll go sit on top of my cage where I can look out the window and preen, and grind my beak and maybe even take a little nap.

Tomorrow's Sunday, Hot Cereal Day. Maybe I'll post something about that tomorrow.