Good morning everyone! Hydro is still an only child. I’ve decided either he’s an overachiever from way back, or the other eggs are just not going to hatch. We are learning about odds and probability in CC. 1 out of 3 is pretty lamesauce (lame sauce…yes it is too a word) when you are talking babies. Sheesh. For the first time, I didn’t grimace in horror when I looked at him. Finally! Continue reading
Quick update with zero pertinent information. Really. It’s our CC day, so I was out of the house early in a mad dash of backpacks and orchestra materials. No nest checking. Now that we’re home, Gazelle is hiding any activity with her big fluffy keister. I’d wager she’ll remain on the nest the rest of the day since it’s turned cold and drizzly. Hopefully I’ll get a better look tomorrow and there will be more ugly babies.
I managed a quick video of little 4-day-old Hydro this morning. He was stretching out his wing, trying to get leverage to turn around and reach the breakfast morsel Gazelle had just dropped off for him to eat. After momma bird flew off in search of more nourishment, I thought I’d have a moment or two to catch the little guy nibbling his meal. Alas, Gazelle returned to the fence line immediately. Clicking loudly and hopping (literally hopping up and down) mad, she shooed me away from her precious baby. Continue reading
With one simple feeder, our yard has become “a paradise for birds” says my daughter. I can’t say that I disagree. They’re like white on rice! We’ve observed more birds flocking to our yard in a week, than we’ve seen in nine previous years. Pine Siskins and Chickadees are the most common feeders, but few new friends were spotted in the past couple days.
Little Hydro is looking markedly more like a bird today. He is sporting a mohawk and unseeing eyes. Still not exactly the fluffy adorableness I’m waiting for though.
Apparently, it’s a good thing my chosen vocation isn’t coroner. In a crazy Easter miracle, our first baby bird isn’t actually dead like I previously observed. This is clearly additional evidence that I know absolutely nothing about birds…or babies…or breathing. Continue reading
With a heavy heart, I broke the news to my kids this morning. Our baby bird from yesterday still hasn’t moved and doesn’t appear to be alive. The other two eggs are still unhatched. This may turn out to be a more somber science lesson than I anticipated at the beginning. I guess of all days, Good Friday is an appropriate time to talk about life and death.
We are a game playing kind of family. I’m also a sneaky mother. Which means, if there’s a game that teaches a skill — I’m all over it. Just in case you are wondering, making it through the Molasses Swamp unscathed or getting un-lost from Lord Licorice’s Lagoon are not skills I’m concerned about. Yes, I’m looking at you Candyland. When I heard about Robot Turtles
from a friend, I knew it was going to be right up my alley.
Oh baby! Gazelle (finally) has something other than an egg to watch over! Joy and rapture! She was still on the nest just an hour ago – but on a hunch, I checked again before lunch.
These birds are never going to hatch. Ever. They’ll be the first eggs in the history of the universe to just decide to stay in there. Why am I watching a nest anyway? I don’t even like birds. Yet here I am like some kind of dopey idiot checking on a bunch of twigs and an evil mother bird who doesn’t follow any of the rules of her species. (sigh) As if you haven’t already figured it out…still no babies.
Dissonant Symphony 