Apropos of Apps

Have you noticed the plethora of apps out there? I have. Some are crazy funny. For instance I noticed one that will reserve a parking space for you in San Francisco. Everybody knows it’s impossible to park in the city, so this is helpful. But I wonder how they do it. Have they contracted people all over the city to call in spaces they see in their areas? Like the new florists in town who have a staff of bicyclists delivering burlap-wrapped bouquets all over the city, the parking space locators are lurking in every neighborhood during commute hours.  cropped-peacock.jpg

I write haiku and sure enough there’s an app out there. https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/thf-haiku/id453464896?mt=8 It’s full of the best haiku by poets from different countries. This is an inspiring app to have on my phone. It gives me a moment of creativity every day.

There’s the app for dog lovers. You can choose dogs barking, a dog simulator (no poop to pick up), a breed guide, dogs playing poker, pet care, grooming and training, and super hero pups.

I won’t go into the cat apps because they’re so many I wouldn’t have room to name them all, but one caught my attention – My Talking Tom.

And for the bird lover, there’s the Audubon Bird Guide that’s free. This comes in handy when you’re walking to work and notice a dead bird splayed at the entrance of your office building.

Calvin says, “Is there a beagle app wafting the right scents we love?” beagle

 

 

 

A Kitchen Visitor

Here’s another bird story:

I visited a friend on Labor Day.  She lives on top of a mountain in a sprawling house, with a pool and several studios. She’s an artist and bird lover. We talked about the many species of birds that inhabit her world which she feeds – woodpeckers, ravens, blue jays, sparrows and a slew of others I can’t name. I don’t know my bird kingdom.

She also owns two dogs and two horses. The occasional fox shows up at night looking for food as do many deer. IMG_0205

The next day a hawk flew into her dining room, and smashed all her vases by the windows in its attempts to flee. Without breaking into a sweat, my friend threw a blanket over it and took it outside. It stood very still for a few seconds, she said, and then flew into a nearby tree and glared back at her.

I’m calling her the bird whisperer.

I couldn’t have done that. I would have panicked, and then the bird would have flown all over the house, crashing into things, the dogs would have gone after it, leaving loose feathers and flesh all over the place, and I would have ended up calling 911 and all of us going to the ER for stitches.

Calvin says, “A hawk? You’re kidding me, right? Why don’t you take me with you on these visits!?” beagle

 

Birds of a Feather

“Your father has a hummingbird in the freezer for you,” I said to my artist son, James in church yesterday as we settled into our chairs.

“Is he dead?” asked my daughter, Miranda.

“Of course, silly,” I said.

“He smashed into the window, right?” Miranda said.

“I have a hawk in my freezer,” said James. “For when I have time to draw it.”

“See, it runs in the family, ” I said.

“One of our neighbors, who says he’s a minister in the Universal Church, admitted he kept a pelican and other birds in his freezer,” said James. “You know, for when he needs a feather for a ceremony.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. My husband, Alf shook his head and I laughed.

It takes all kinds.

I wasn’t sure which kind we were though.

It reminded me of an incident when I was a child in Mexico. My family and I went on holiday to the beach and left our parakeet, Perry with Martina, the housekeeper. When we returned home she greeted us and motioned for us to come into the kitchen. Martina opened the freezer door of the refrigerator, where we kept the ice cubes and ice cream, and extracted Perry in a plastic bag. She pulled him out for us to see. His little white and turquoise body was rigid, his eyes were closed, and his feet were curled up. She explained he had died while we were away. Pitched forward and fell to the floor of his cage. If she had left him there, he would have turned into a heap of feathers and bones by the time we got back. So she stuck him in the freezer.

I didn’t believe her story. I just knew she had killed him. Out of jealousy.

Calvin says, “If I found a dead bird on the ground, I’d stick my nose deep into its chest and breathe bird into my memory bank.”