When Mister Man first showed me corn on the cob, I shrieked in terror and hid in the furthest corner of my cage, the place where I go when something freaks me out, which is pretty much everything anyway. Then I watched Mister Man eat some of it.
Instead of a beak, Mister Man has teeth, which is like having a beak inside of your mouth, if that makes sense. Ewww gross, I know! Corn on the cob was an elating experience for his teeth, and after a few pokes of interest I knew what it was about.
These are the most gigantic seeds I have ever seen. They are sweet and delicious. Mister Man and I fight over the best ones. After he thinks we are done I am still enjoying some of the more tender parts.
I used to think budgie crack was the best thing in the world, but now I have my doubts. Corn on the cob is so amazing that I may need to change my priorities. Perhaps Mister Man knows some things I should find out about.
A significant part of my daily routine involves the chewing of various papers, and I thought it would be nice to review some of my favorites.
Newsprint – This paper has a savory richness, depth and flavor, with enough underlying acidity to keep it fresh and interesting despite its flat density and structure.
Paper Towels – A layer of sumptuous nuttiness enhances the complex, woven profile. A strong texture and concentrated tannins are balanced by the light lemony flavors and powerful aftertaste.
Cardboard – Its dry, slender yet concentrated palate has a weightless rigidity that echoes with eloquent earth tones and diesel oil flavors. The combination of grit and depth make it intriguing, taut and fresh.
Next month I will be reviewing strings, threads and fabrics, with a focus on jute.
I like to spend my day on a perch next to the window where I can preen my feathers and sing my songs. There is nothing in the world that makes me happier. I can grab a feather or two, make sure it’s perfectly aligned with the rest of my feathers, and then make some squeaky, chirpy sounds in between.
All of this I can do on one leg, after stretching out my wings on either side and fanning out my tail. I also like to grind my beak together, which is perfectly normal behavior for a parakeet of my demeanor and intellect. I can’t imagine a budgerigar parakeet who would not be absolutely content in this situation.
Sometimes the wind chimes accompany me in my extravagant etudes and commentaries. Other than that, it doesn’t take very much for me to be completely delighted. I like to believe that things will never change and it will always be exactly like this afternoon at the window.
Sometimes, when Mister Man walks into a room of the house, he can’t find me right away. He looks in my usual spots and then pretty much ignores me until I either start chirping or dive bomb him. Otherwise I’m quite happy taking little naps here and there.
It wasn’t always this way. In the past, Mister Man would come into a room and have to look everywhere until he found me, and I must admit, I am able to find some very crafty hiding places. One day I was missing for hours until I was discovered perched comfortably inside a lamp shade.
I mostly stay in my room even though I can go anywhere in the house. At night my door is shut so it stays quiet and safe and I can get a good night sleep, but I have no problem napping anywhere, any time of day. This is usually preceded and followed by eating and preening.
It takes me a long time to get my metabolism going after I’ve been sleeping, so I usually stretch for a while before leaving my spot. After that it’s anyone’s guess whether I will ever visit that same place ever again.
Everything was going fine this morning until I tried to climb into Mister Man’s iced tea glass so I could drink what he had left in the bottom. Sure, it was easy getting in, but after a few sips I realized I could not get out!
When Mister Man came into the office and discovered me in my predicament, he took a few pictures of me struggling, which did not turn out very well because when I panic I am in a state of constant motion. As you can see, I am a little blur, helpless and stuck in a glass.
Even though he tried to tip the glass enough so I could get out from the top, my panic impulse made it impossible for me to function normally. I tried to flap my wings in the glass. That only got them increasingly saturated with iced tea and made Minter Man laugh more.
Finally, I was helped out of the glass by Mister Hand and sprayed down with some fresh water. I felt like one of those bugs that fall into a pitcher plant never to be seen again. Oh, the horror! The rest of my day was uneventful.
I have a new food in my feeding dish that Mister Man has been filling with multicolored pellets. They are supposed to be a healthy alternative to the calorie laden seeds that I am so fond of. So far, I enjoy the orange and red ones much more than the green and yellow ones.
I like to visit my food dish and pick up a pellet. I nibble on it a little and let the outside of it fall away to the bottom of the cage. This is because I am very used to seeds, which need to be hulled by my beak before I can eat them. I have no idea that I can eat an entire pellet.
Mister Man tried one of the green pebbles to figure out why I didn’t like it, and to him it tasted a little bit fruity. It was not like an actual ripe green lime but it had a nice sweet flavor that he will never forget. The other colors tasted about the same.
I have started losing a lot of feathers lately and my metabolism is out of whack. It is possible that I am experiencing my first full molt here, in mid-April as the seasons begin to change. I continue to zip around the office with my outstanding flight feathers.
Today, I lost my seventh primary flight feather. I am officially 40% flight worthy and am approaching 50% flighted. I no longer flutter. I flit from place to place or, if you will, zip from perch to perch. Previously, I would flutter and could not gain altitude, which would require rescue attempts to get me up off the floor.
When Mister Man wakes up, he opens my cage and I zip over to his arm. From there, I climb over to his shoulder, his neck, his glasses and head. Sometime I zip over to the top of his computer and stare at him. It’s all about me being hungry. I’m not sure what’s wrong with him some mornings because he doesn’t seem to know I’m starving.
I like to sporadically zip from the computer keyboard to my cage. I can be placidly perching on the end of the keyboard and then suddenly zip to my cage. Then I zip to my branch, and from there to Mister Man’s head. My favorite thing to do is to zip in a complete circle around the office.
When I’m not zipping I am taking care of my feathers. My beak is perfectly designed to interlock each of the barbules on the pennaceous portion of my flight feathers. They are like velcro the way the proximal and distal barbules attach together, and I grab an entire feather in my beak and pull it though to zip it perfectly together.