Deflation

I didn't post yesterday, the 14th, as it was my birthday and so I was a bit busy.

A year older and I'm even more certain that whatever goes up, must come down.

Jass, be safe

Someone, or more than one, mentioned about Jass on the balcony. We, that is Phyllis, Kosov and I were incredibly cautious when Jass first went on to the balcony, ready to grab her or pull her back. 

She would stick her head under the glass to look at the birdies nesting on the balcony below. Her body could have fitted under the glass. If she stuck her neck out too far, we would just call her name and she would pull her head back in.

She has shown no inclination to jump on the balcony, though she is an expert jumper, and only rarely sits on my balcony seat. She mostly just sits at floor level and watches. I just sit on a seat and watch, so I get that. Well, she did in warmer weather. She doesn't like the balcony in winter.

 

I see it as risk assessment, as you might do with your children. Yes, there is a risk to them if you let them out on their own, but I must say, young children who used to be let out on their own to learn the ways of the world, are now so mollycoddled and supervised, I doubt it does them good. 

Segueing, Neighbour HH is so stressed about her 23 year old granddaughter staying in her apartment while HH is in New Zealand, her son had to bring HH back to earth. 'Mum, she has travelled all over Europe, stayed with strangers, and had a wonderful time. She will manage without Nonna being there'. No, HH is not Italian and it's a long story why she is called Nonna, which I forget. 

Nevertheless, I will let the granddaughter into the building and show her where the key and fob is hidden in HH's  apartment, as I have access to HH's apartment. For id purposes, HH sent me a photo of her granddaughter, who I think is 23 and very attractive. There are already some written instructions pinned up in HH's apartment for her granddaughter. Lordy, HH is more of a control freak than I am.

In other news, I did not know Australian mudlarks swoop people, and I was swooped. Apparently they go for your eyes, but in this case one just bumped on my cap twice. I never saw the bird. I've been swooped by wattle birds who don't make contact, with just making a clicking kind of sound as you feal the flutter of their wings. I've not been swooped by the worst, Australian magpies, that are very different to magpies elsewhere in the world. My horror is encountering a drop bear, but as an inner suburban dweller, I am safe. It's just when I leave the city environs that I'm at risk. You just at times have to take your chances.

Every few days we give Jass a wet meal, that is tinned food. She doesn't really like it but we persist and she eats some of it. But oh my, aren't the ingredients such wankery, bought by Phyllis at $4 a tin. Jass, did not eat the long grain rice, and whatever else she left in her bowl was probably spinach, spinach being part of normal cat's diet. No? 

What a drone

Drone bees are male used for sex and then discarded. Not that unlike some humans really. 

Is there a parallel with drones of the skies?

In the noughties Ray and I were on a grassed area at St Kilda Beach, Melbourne, when I heard a noise and looked up and saw a drone aircraft, and it descended to land right next to us. This is a public safety issue, said the State Government and banned them in some areas.

Skip to the teen years of the 21st century and I thought from my balcony I could see a hovering bird over the streets of South Yarra. We don't have large hovering birds. I realised it was a drone. I watched for a very short time and went inside to get my camera to take a photo, but it had gone by the time I returned. The drone operator was certainly in breach of laws.

Now, they have become skilled surveillance cameras, weapons that can hunt down and kill people with precision, can be armed to attack sites and suicide bombing devices.

Their abilities are quite scary, but they can be used in very useful areas too, for surveying and mapping, to check inaccessible areas and to fight against crime. 

They are topical here because they are used at Sydney beaches as shark spotters. Sadly at Coogee Beach a female swimmer was recently attacked by a shark. The beach is one of the popular few that doesn't have drone coverage because of Sydney Airport flight restrictions. Duh, how high do drones fly compared to planes? The authority has now temporarily allowed shark spotting drones to fly over the sea at Coogee Beach.

Over the summer periods, Sydney beaches are often netted to stop sharks coming close to shores, but this has a huge impact on sea wildlife, with many creatures getting caught in nets, including dolphins, whales, stingrays and turtles. Drones are a far more effective way to prevent shark attacks and don't have the impact on creatures of the seas. 

After all, aren't the seas the province of sea creatures. Humans enter at risk.

There is a natural predator for drones, as this Australian wedge tailed eagle shows. (PS. If this post seems very unedited in someway, that's because crazy things are happening around me) 

For the birds

Today has been good but stressful. I bought a new car. Obviously more on that another time. I only have the mental energy to post this rather lovely live webcam site.

 

Let's visit Ireland, where a pair of blue tits are raising their young. I haven't really researched Fionn O'Donoghue but I like what I did read about him, a good guy. So, check out the baby blue tits. It seems the babies of Lapis and Lazuli will fledge in two weeks. Blue tits remind me of Australia's fairy/blue/little wren. Tip for Aussies, the feeding action is really full on after 5.00pm east coast time. 

The Dooleys

For some reason Australia's bird expert came into my mind, and Sean Dooley now has permanent presence on ABC Melbourne at I think ten past two. It is talk back, and people tune in to listen and to call in with questions about birds. 

Then into my mind came a choone, a tune, and the first couple of lines were like this.

Hang down your head Tom Dooley

Hang down your head with shame

Hang down your head Tom Dooley

Hang down your head and cry.

I won't look it up, and don't you. Allow those who already know the song and what it is about speak first.

Was it black American related? Or maybe it was Irish? I don't know.  

Australia's bird expert, Sean Dooley.

Sunday Supplement

There was a pesky mynah bird nearby, out of the reach of Jass and she did not like its presence. I've never heard a cat make this kind of noise before but have you?

Marysville 1

Go east, young men, so they did along with me to the town of Marysville. I'd forgotten about this nice art work at the entrance to the Mullum Mullum Tunnel.

The scenery was starting to look impressive as we motored along Maroondah Highway.

It looks damp up on the mountain, where we are headed.

We approached the town of Healesville.

Oh, care for a little gin?

Oh really. Must we stop at Aldi! Actually, it was a very convenient place to park and find some food to eat in the main street, after Phyllis spent some time in bling shops.

I popped in and added JayCee's name to welcome visitor list. 

The colourful plants were all over Healesville. I believe they are a type of rose.

Just east of Healesville is Maroondah Dam, where we stopped at a viewing point. 

We then hit the Black Spur and Phyllis was driving quite slowly but used the slow vehicle pull offs to let faster cars past. 

The ferns in the sunlight were just stunning.

And here we are at our caravan park cabin, with our balcony looking at the fast flowing Steavenson River. Bird life abounded, especially king parrots. Sue would have loved the location. 

My competent driver being embraced.

A male king parrot.

Who ended up with scratched arms. "Ondrewww, I am wounded!"

The cabin was a bit ordinary and did not pass the finger over the top of the fridge dust test. There were nicer cabins, but Marysville is quite an expensive place to stay, it would seem. I paid the same as I did for a one bedroom self contained flat, with a balcony on the edge of the centre of Sydney, with nice views. 

A relaxing tipple in the evening light for use on Brag Book. 

A (pied?) currawong. 

I felt the need to put something on the tree trunk to indicate its size, so a packet of pocket tissues did the job. It is big trunk. 

The park was fairly quiet on the Thursday night and we were without immediate neighbours in the row. Friday night, the hoards arrived.

Feathered Friday

Oh, a football field invasion, without noting 100 goals kicked by a player in his career.

Warbling magpies are so delightful to wake to, as you can hear in this clip by Kye Hammo. 

 

Just call me Tippi

Yes, my Tippi Hendren moment. I stepped onto the balcony, checking left to see if next door's window was open. It wasn't until I sat down that I notice this cockatoo sitting on the balcony railing. Blog fodder! But it will fly away if I go inside to get my phone. It didn't. I moved close to it and it didn't move.

Then there were three.

Two more arrived.

Then another two.

But wait. There are more, with one visible above. 

I fled inside, but I remember that didn't do Tippi much good.

The problem is that birds around here, aside from the Indian mynah birds I target with a spray jet to deter them from nesting, have lost their fear of humans. Just yesterday I was sitting outside at the cafe opposite having my afternoon double espresso, when a mudlark landed on my table. I shoed it away but I had to get my hand very close to it. It soon bounced back and I shoed it away again, and then again. There wasn't anything obvious on the table for it to eat. This is quite recent bird behaviour. I know someone in the apartment building next door was feeding cockatoos on her balcony. She stopped as she discovered how pushy they could be. I think the cockatoos have learnt that if there is a human on a balcony, there could be food for them. 

The Vandals, as EC calls them, smashed up the plant pots at the apartment next to neighbour HH. The owners are overseas and HH called their son, who came and cleaned up the mess. Many years ago, they smashed up one of our balcony pots. They will just pull away at a plant, the pot moves and falls off whatever it was sitting on. 

Love, death and the whole damned thing

Today, the 25th, marks six months since Ray unexpectedly died. Life for me is now very different. Although I miss him terribly, I still live a good and indulgent life. I expect I will take a decent dram of The Scottish Doctor tonight and do some cleansing wailing. I think there is an Irish word, keening, and that is what I may do. 

Ray was loved by his own family and very loved by mine. Phyllis, I think wanting more wardrobe space and he knew I was sorting things out, rather cheekily presented me with two boxes from Ray's wardrobe. I am pleased he did. That was a bit more sorted out, and things from the past discovered. 

This pewter mug was presented to Ray by Mother, Step Father and ABI Brother for his fiftieth birthday. I had totally forgotten about it and I expect Ray had too. Mother was ever so skilled at giving inappropriate and useless gifts. Her heart was in the right place, of course. 

Do not be sad for me. Love is grand and I am so glad to have had it for nearly forty five years. I thought this clip of a reunited pair of swans so nice.

Lost post

I hit one key and my whole post disappeared, leaving me only with an aitch. Strangely the labels for the post remain. Ah well, plenty of stuffs for you to see elsewhere on the net.

Maybe I will put something up later that is already baked. 

h 

Pestilence

My home city of Melbourne and Australia's best known city Sydney are rather different, at times even with words.

If I was in Sydney and I said I stomped on a cocky and killed it, I would be praised. 

In Melbourne if I said a stomped on a cocky and killed it, I would be a social pariah and probably charged by police for my act.

Sydney cocky.

Melbourne cocky. 

 

And just to confuse things, there are cowcockies. I can't imagine the origins of this phrase but it refers to dairy farmers. NB, he looks more like a beef farmer but you get the idea. 

Apparently we had a very warm winter last year. You could have fooled me. We certainly had a very wet spring and mid summer, and it was an ideal climate for crickets to breed. 

I didn't shriek, but I did rush inside and tell R a cockroach had run across our balcony. A few days later I heard about the cricket pestilence. They had bred in high numbers and were everywhere. With my new found knowledge I calmed R down when he fled his bathroom after his morning shower, saying there was a cockroach in there. With a bit of carboard and an empty yoghurt container from the recycling bin, I removed the cricket, chucked it off the balcony and it fell down then flew away. 

Another ran across in front of us in the foyer when we going out one day this week.

At 5.30 in the morning one day last week I was woken by a very loud cricket. I was convinced it was in my bedroom. I pulled apart the nest of tables at my minor bedroom window and I couldn't find it. In spite of our very thick window glass, I suspect it might have been on the outside window ledge. Enough to wake me at 5.30, it must have been loud. I did go back to sleep.

We have resident cricket under our balcony air con unit and today after we traced another cricket sound, found it is one is living in the bulkhead of our living room, where the various bathroom, toilet and range hood ducts go to the outside.

Living high up off the ground, we don't see too many pest critters. In about 2004 we had an ant invasion that thought my hair removal wax was very tasty. A few years later what is now perhaps a threatened species, we had an invasion of Bogong moths. We rarely get flies inside.

Google tells me crickets live to an age of eight to ten weeks, or a year or more. Maybe it depends on the cricket species.  

Pause

I made a start with our holiday posts but today I have surgery at a hospital and then on Saturday we journey to the Surf Coast where we will celebrate the twin boys' first birthday. We have booked to stay overnight. Hopefully I will be ok to go.

Mother is feeling constantly sick in the stomach, which began after her stay in hospital while we were overseas. She hopes to readmitted to hospital today. A substantial dose of a good anxiety medication might solve many of her problems. It is not that our medical system won't look after her; she constantly self diagnoses and won't take medications because 'they make me feel sick'. Well, she is feeling sick regardless. She is impossible at times.

So, probably no more posts for a few days.

This cocky greeted me a day or two after we returned from overseas. 

"Hello Andrew. I've missed seeing you on the balcony".

It walked along the balcony railing to get a closer view of me.

"You appear to have survived your overseas adventure."

"Yes, thanks, and thanks for the welcome home."

Natecha

Before I get into it, I had to laugh when I heard the radio news this morning. Prince Spare and Ms Sparkle have been invited to the King's Coronation...by email from The Palace. 

It is a good year for crickets, it seems. Above the traffic white noise I can hear them chirping away. Even after 22 years here nature continues to surprise me, living 60 metres above ground level. We have a cricket on our balcony. It is somewhere in behind the air con unit and chirps away to nothing. It does not have any friend up here and I can't imagine what it eats. It has been here for three days. Crickets must be able to fly, otherwise how would it get up here?

Maybe it was the killer hot year here of 2009 when we had terrible fires. Whatever year it was, down below there was a huge hatching of Monarch butterflies,with one flying up past every five or so minutes for a whole day.

The last couple of days here have been warm and there has been a reasonable hatching of Monarch butterflies, say one every 30 minutes. 

I've looked around down below and I can't see a milkweed plant that they need to breed, but there must be some. They are programmed to fly north to warmer climes, so they fly up the side of our building past us to go over the top of the building. They don't have common sense to fly around the front of the building at ground level to then travel north. 

Nature is all very interesting and to repeat, who would have thought we would be more connected to nature than when we lived in houses, with only snails, worms, slaters, thrip and an occasional Indian Myna and Blackbird visiting. Ah, and possums. Not seen here...yet.

Monday Mural

I'm joining in with Sami and others for Monday Mural.

I've previously shown you some rather cute dog murals painted on a wall at public housing building in South Melbourne. These too are on a similar wall. I meant to take these photos at the same time but I forgot. I walked past a week or so ago and noticed them, and so took some photos. Very cheerful and quite well done. They are by a private company, Melbourne Murals. I've looked at its website and I don't recognise any mural I have seen. 

An eastern rosella, one of the many rosellas in Australia, all of the parrot family.

Superb fairywren, also known as blue wrens. They rarely stay still, jumping and flitting around and so are a bit hard to photograph. The are lovely little birds.

Finally another parrot variety, the sulphur crested cockatoo. No show without Punch.

Pleasing Photo

It doesn't happen too often but sometimes I am really pleased with a photo I have taken and this is one. The ravens are still flocking around, pausing on the cranes at 411 St Kilda Road, but thankfully not roosting too near us. Embiggen the photo to see it properly. 

 

Ravin' about ravens

I feel a little like Tippi Hendren when I step out onto the balcony in the evening. Ravens are madly flying around, in pairs or small groups. They are gathering together and then dispersing before gathering again. As I am typing this in my peripheral vision I can see them flying in all directions. They are landing en masse nearby before, very late for birds, finding somewhere to roost. 

The native Australian raven is only found in southern Australia, not really above the latitude of Adelaide. They are larger than crows found in northern Australia but seem otherwise very similar. They are clever and resourceful birds and have varied diet and are rather fond of road kill. In spite of their large size and threatening black appearance, they are not a risk to humans. I've seen Indian Mynah birds chase them off, as I have seen wattle birds do the same. Some local councils have raven proof bins and others don't. Ravens have learnt of the delights to be found in rubbish bins and will pull everything out and make a terrible mess in their search for easy food.

We've lived here for twenty years now. We were initially bereft of birds but since either Melbourne's environment has improved and is more attractive to a huge variety of birds we now see, good, or a declining country environment is driving birds to city environs, bad, is an unknown. This is a lush year in my state and there is surely no reason for birds to visit the city for easy food, yet visiting they are doing. 

I won't post the worst clip from The Birds, but here is Tippi Hendren in a build up scene. She is now 92 years old.

Even at 8.30pm, nearly dark, the ravens are still flying close by the balcony with their mournful calls. I am scared. Update, 9.10pm they are still flying around and have not roosted. Update 10.10, small flocks were still flying around but then finally settled somewhere nearby. I can still hear them calling. Will they be lined up on my balcony railing in the morning? Should I take Tippi's fears onboard? I'm afraid.  I need I a comforting cuddle.