Saturday and I’m back to normal.
I have diligently answered all the comments on the last post.
They’re all there, read them all, comments and replies, from top to bottom (only if you are interested), the story sort of continues through the comments in sequence.
Linen cupboard photos as promised.
Sorry I didn’t have a before photo.
THE LINEN CUPBOARD - 40% DONE ACCORDING TO ELISABETH.
So this is stage one, part one of the Elisabethan of chez inTownsville. I’ve cropped out the bits that aren’t done yet.
All linen was rewashed and ironed with linen spray from Dusk, then folded the secret special Austrian way, that you can only learn if you go to school in Austria.
I do not satisfy the requirements to learn the Secret Austrian Sheet Folding System.
“Ploos, Loooeesa, you haff ze broken back, you must nnnottt trrry to fold ze linen in ze furrst place!”
(Note from me: God, try writing an Austrian Accent!)
We have been advised we are allowed to take towels from the cupboard, but NEVER and I repeat NEVER are we allowed to put anything INTO the linen cupboard.
The George Boundaries Elisabeth vs Louise
I’ve spent 3 years of serious grovelling to be allowed to scratch his comb, run my hand down his back (other hand must be visible at all times), and just recently allowed to gently rub his tummy with one (ONLY ONE) finger. I am allowed to kiss as much as I like, and in fact have to be wary of George’s tongue going onto my lips. Go figure that one out – weird boundaries I’m the first to admit.
At all times George MUST remain on his perch.
The Elisabethan Boundries.
Yes, I will step up onto your finger.
Yes I will step up onto your hand.
Yes I will sit quietly on your shoulder.
Yes you can scratch and kiss any part of me, on my perch or while you are holding me.
Yes, feel free to pick me up and turn me upside down (the ultimate display of total bird trust).
Ooooh, ELISABETH you're here, I'm over here.
The Elisabethan George, placid, compliant, trying to look cute, and attract a cuddle.
The Garden Miner, she's resisting the Elisabethan Age so far.
My Dolce, she’s a Silver Indian Ringneck, and one serious wild child.
She’s survived 4 huge accidents/events that would have killed an eagle and is a tuff nut – like me.
Dolce will not co-operate with Elisabeth so far.
She is staying loyal to me, not that she’s obedient exactly, but I’m slightly ahead on the emotional scale. Trouble is, Dolce is my partner, and in the Bird World that means I must comply with her. She’s taken the upper hand in this relationship.
Dolce is currently digging a hole in the conservatory garden, interestingly enough, she dug a hole here last year (we filled it in for about to be obvious reasons).
Last year, in this hole she was bailed up by a snake intent on eating her.
She couldn’t fly away, as she was in her hole.
Fortunately, Dolce can be
is not afraid of stupid snakes
and has humans who understand that they must risk death or injury and remove any threats to Dolce’s life or limbs.
Hole dimensions this morning before ....
So, I calculated depth and breadth of Dolce’s hole today. Worked out it was definitely snake trapping of Indian Ringneck dimensions, and sadly for Dolce, 2 weeks work (full time too) was trashed by Cyclone Shovel and Mr iT.
We’re used to natural emergencies round here.
Dirty bird protest against shovel intent on destroying her hole.
Dolce then suffered the indignity of a huge bath, dirt brown silver Indian Ringnecks not tolerated in Elisabethan houses, thought I’d better take action before Monday morning.
It’s 2:30pm, and my whirl of domesticity, answering blog comments and writing this one have required immediate retreat to my hospital bed, with electric blanket for back on high, room Air con on 20, and a cup of tea, and sigggggghhhhhhh – painkillers.
Hope you can see I’m over devastation day, angry day, getting my head sorted out day yesterday, and am fine today.