Hinted

           The last time we got together I hinted at a project I was working on, but didn’t tell you about it. I’ll tell you about that now as well as another project I knocked off my list.

          I made a primitive chicken hanger for my Miss Rosie. She likes chickens. Taking care of the chickens was her favorite chore when she was growing up. If I’m wanting to make something for her, it’s almost always something chicken-themed.

          I made homemade air-dry clay with a flour base. I formed the chickens and embedded hooks in them. When they were dry, I painted them, strung them with jute, and sat them on sticks I’d picked up. And gave it to Miss Rosie.

          She didn’t have it very long before Miss Rosie reported that it fell apart, breaking combs and tails when it hit the porch.

          My mistake was in thinking the clay would bond to the hooks.

          “It makes me sad because I really liked them,” Miss Rosie said.

          “I’ll make them for you again,” I consoled.

          I took the broken chickens, drilled holes, and restrung them to hang on my patio. It was either that or throw them away. After a while they molded. I was told if you put vinegar or lemon juice in the clay, that won’t happen. I did and it did!

          That was two years ago. Miss Rosie has been very patient with me and hasn’t once asked after them.

          Recently I’ve found myself in an artistic slump. It bothers me that I’ve started a watercolor dog portrait and can’t get it finished. My mistake, if you want to call it that, is I’ve been watching tons of videos. I want to learn how to be a better artist but it backfired. All it did was reinforce that I’m not a very good artist — or so my stinkin’ thinkin’ is telling me. I found it easy and enjoyable to do the first dog portrait of the German Shepherd and Pekinese. The cat portrait came easy and enjoyable, too. I even breezed through the first attempt at a commissioned Lab. Unfortunately, I don’t consider the result salable as it doesn’t look like the dog I was trying to portray. The colors were wrong. Plus, being naïve, I mixed mediums, throwing in some acrylic paints. What a mistake that was because acrylic paint dries shiny. It makes it look all wrong. I did start again, but instead of enjoying it, I’m dreading it.

          “What you need is a confidence booster,” Me says to Myself. “Make something you know you can make!”

          I don’t know if I can make it or not, but I wanted to try making concrete clay. It should hold up in the weather and since it doesn’t have flour in it, I’m hoping it won’t mold.

          I’ve been wanting to do this project for some time and bought Portland last year.

          It’s recommended that you don’t use the same bowls for food that you use for concrete. Although stainless steel is nonreactive and does not corrode, mixing concrete can leave microscopic residues in the bowl that might not be removed with standard washing. And because concrete contains chemicals that could potentially contaminate food, even after thorough cleaning, you shouldn’t use it for food again. Being old like I am, I have bowls that I don’t use anymore, so I can dedicate them to making concrete clay.

          My Portland got lumpy out in the garage so I rubbed it against a strainer until I had enough for the recipe. I mixed it with equal parts wet toilet paper and white glue.

          “Wash your tools up right away,” the lady advised. “Don’t think you can leave them in water and clean them later because it won’t work. The cement will still set. Put your clay into a plastic bowl and wash your tools — but not in the sink. It’ll set up in the plumbing.”

         I transferred my clay to a plastic tub and took the bowls out into the yard and washed the concrete off with the hose. Now the fun part. I sat at the patio table and sculpted chickens using patterns I’d drawn on aluminum coil stock and cut out. Halfway through I got to thinking about the times I’ve seen concrete poured using forms during construction. They always spray the forms down with a mold release first so they’re able to remove them from the concrete.

Do I need a form release? I wondered.

It was too late for the ones I’d already molded.

I Googled it and found alternatives for mold release. It seems like almost any other oil will work. I got my bottle of castor oil (one of the recommended oils), from the deep dark depths of the cabinet where it got pushed (it’s not an oil I use very often), and smeared it on the patterns I hadn’t yet cast. I only had enough clay to make two chickens and three wings. I would need another chicken and three more wings. But before I could make anymore, I’d have to wait for these to set up before I could unmold them.

After several hours, I checked to see how it was drying. The wings that were on oiled patterns slipped right off. The ones on un-oiled patterns seemed to be stuck pretty good and I didn’t want to break them by applying too much pressure, so I let them alone. I’d have to wait at least a whole day for the concrete to set before I tried again.

The next day when I tried, the chickens came off the metal patterns with very little trouble. The only issue was where the clay had oozed over the edge of the metal, like when my bread overflows his pan and once baked, holds on tight to the pan. I took my time and wiggled the chickens free.

I noticed a difference in the concrete between the oiled patterns and the ones that weren’t oiled. The concrete that sat against the oiled aluminum was smoother. The non-oiled ones had more air holes. That made it an easy decision to oil all future projects even though I didn’t really need a mold release.

“Peg, how are you going to take care of all those air holes?” you ask.

I’m so glad you asked! Since the project is “primitive” chickens, I could probably leave it alone and just paint it. We can call it character. But I know from working with other clays that you can make a slurry and coat it. That’s what I thought to do. But did you know that wet concrete won’t bond with dry concrete unless you have a bonding agent.

I don’t have one.

I went to my handsome mountain man to help me figure this out. “Mike, you’ve got some concrete floor leveling stuff, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah?”

“It’s got a bonding agent in it, right?”

“I think so. Why?”

I told him what I was up to and he suggested I give it a try. I mixed a little and used an old paint brush to apply it. I didn’t like the grit in it. Just for kicks and grins, I decided to try just the Portland in a slurry and use it on the other chicken. What’s the worse that can happen? It’ll flake off. That wouldn’t be the end of the world. Turns out, the Portland had a little grit in it, too. Once dry, I was able to brush the sand off, the Portland stuck as well as the leveling compound, and all was good.

Now, how am I going to attach the wings?

Since the Portland adhered, could I use it to attach the wings?

I made another slurry and stuck one of the wings to one of the chickens.

I sat there, on my patio, sipping coffee and watching the birds, waiting. It would be a whole day until I could see if it worked.

A House Finch came to the jelly feeder. It was kinda funny to watch this little guy come back time after time.

“Peg, how do you know it was the same one?” you wanna know.

Easy. He had a gob of jelly stuck under his chin. I did wonder how ever he was going to get it clean.

My little shadow, my Velcro dog, sat in another chair, content just to be nearby. Speaking of Raini, I bought her a leg brace for her bad knee. I’ve had it on her a couple of times but it doesn’t stay in place. I’ll keep working on it, trying to figure out how to keep it on her and on her knee.

          I really wanted a photo of the male Baltimore Oriole, but he was more skittish than his female companion. He’d come in for a bite of jelly but the slightest move or sound sent him back into the trees.

          The female was a little more tolerant. Here, you can see drips of rain. 

          Waiting sucks. Now that I’d started this project, I was anxious to be done with it.

          What else will bond it? I wondered and Googled. Silicone or a strong glue. I have some really good glue that’s multi-use and dries fast. I get it at Walmart and it’s called Beacon 527. It bonds metal, cork, tile, ceramics, wood, paper, glass, and more! the label declares. I decided to try that on another chicken. Five minutes later I checked. Hands down, the glue won. I was able to put two of the chickens together but I had to wait until the next day to see if the concrete slurry worked, which, by the way, it did. I didn’t pry on it too hard but it seemed to be stuck fast. I figure if it falls off somewhere down the road, Miss Rosie will let me know.

          I painted the chickens and a little heart I’d made with the leftover clay.

         While they were drying, I went in search of a stick. I only had two for my perches and needed one more. I looked and looked and looked and couldn’t find any that matched what I had or that I liked. Then I found this stick! “Take me!” it seemed to say. It was a pretty stick. I picked it up and turning it over in my hands I got an idea on how to use it. I didn’t find a third perch but thought I could hang the heart from the last chicken and it would be just fine.

          I took my dog (Raini goes with me everywhere!) and my stick back to the patio. Lovingly, I took all the bark off and sanded it smooth. I needed something to bring out the color. Would linseed or tung oil do that? I wondered. Then I wondered if we had any. Mike was napping and I didn’t want to bother him. I looked in the garage — twice! I checked through all my craft supplies — twice! I couldn’t find either one.

          Would another oil work? I wondered and grabbed a bottle of motor oil.

          “Peg! Motor oil!” you exclaim incredulously.

          Well, no one’s going to eat off it! I applied the oil and it just looked like shinny dull wood. Can I put paint on top of the oil? I dabbed the rag in the still wet Miss-Rosie’s-favorite-color green and tapped skipped it along the wood. It worked! No one is more shocked than I am!

          I did that for all the pieces and put the primitive chicken hanger together. It's almost three feet long!

          I can see, only after the fact, that I should’ve made the orange chicken a little lower, but I didn’t see it at the time. And maybe I should’ve tried a little harder to find a perch. But it’s too late now, it’s delivered!

          Miss Rosie loves her mobile. We’re calling it that because the wind turns the whole thing in circles as well as spinning the chickens. I was a little worried my design might be flawed and they’d bang together. The concrete makes it really strong so I don’t think they’ll break even if they do.

          Oh gosh! I get here the whole way to the end of the story and realize there was one more thing about this that I didn’t tell you. Something that the words “design” and “flaw” tripped in my recollecting.

          “What’s that, Peg?” you ask.

          The whole reason I had to make these again is because of a design flaw in the first place. The wire rings pulled out of the chickens. This time I put shoulders and hooks at the ends of my rings before embedding them, just like Mike said I should’ve done the first time!

          “I love my chickens!” Miss Rosie said. “It’s truly unique — one of a kind! I was sitting here, drinking my morning coffee, watching them turn in the breeze.” 

          I had a request from my friend and editor, eldest daughter of the Kipps, Jenn. She lives in a place where the delivery guys leave her packages at the wrong door — all the time! Sometimes her stuff gets rained on before she discovers it.

          “Can you make me a sign in blood-red-dripping font?” she asked and drew out her desgin.

          Pffft! Can I make sign in blood-red-dripping font. Of course I can!

          Mike helped. He found a piece of old wood paneling. I painted it white and cut the vinyl letters on my Cricut machine. Easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy!

          You would think with two successful projects complete and off my list that I’d be ready to tackle the Lab again, wouldn’t you? Well, that’s what I thought, too! I pulled it out, got my paints and brushes around, sat down, and stared at it for a while. I only have the underpainting done and realize it’s in its “ugly” phase, that as more color and detail is added it will get better, but I couldn’t make myself pick up a brush and start. I was considering a red plaid background but thought it might be too distracting. I went for a textured brown leather-looking background and what I have is so close to the dog color that the dog is gonna get lost. Then I wondered if I should bring the background down a little lower. Then I wondered if I can fix the color or even if I should try. I’m afraid I’ll make it worse. Then I wondered if I should scrap the whole project and start again. At that point I’m so overwhelmed that I closed my paint set, put the brushes away, turned around to my desk and got lost down the rabbit hole of Reels on Facebook. Short little minute or minute and half videos.

          I actually had another failed project this week but it’s not a big deal. The bell house I hung in my Zebra Finch cage has a loose weave to it and isn’t dark inside. I could cover it with paper and glue! I thought.

          I get the paper and the glue and set to work. My mind wanders when I’m working on something that doesn’t take a great deal of attention.

“The birds will pick at it,” Myself says to Me.

“So?” queries Me. “Elmer’s glue is non-toxic.”

“It is for people, but what about birds?”

“Good question!”

I pulled my phone from my bra pocket and asked Copilot.

“Elmer's glue is generally considered safe for birds...” Copilot says and goes on to say that it should be dry before I put it in for them and only use it in a place where they’re not likely to pick at it and if you think they’ve eaten some, contact a vet. Copilot ended with this caveat, “For the safety and well-being of your Zebra finches, always choose bird-safe materials and adhesives.”

Okay then. To the sink I went, peeled off the still wet, glue-soaked paper, and washed glue from the house. They’ll just have to live with it the way it is.

Speaking of my finches, they’re way more talky being in a group like they are. They go back and forth between the cages, even the white one now, and lots of times they’ll all be in one cage. I figure they like it that way or they wouldn’t do it.

We had an egg early in the week. Yep. Had an egg. I took it from the nest, shook it as hard as I could, coated it with oil, and put it back in the nest. I know from watching that show on TV where the family-owned pest extermination business was called out to manage nuisance geese. Billy gave his brother an umbrella to fight off the geese while he coated the eggs with oil. That stops air transfer and the eggs suffocate. The geese would abandon the nest after a while and not come back, according to Billy.

So I shook the egg, coated it with oil, and put it back.

Sometime later I got to thinking about it. Why, oh why, am I such a slow thinker! What happens if she lays another egg? I won’t know which one I already shook! I got up, got the egg back out, was getting ready to get a marker to put a dot on it, when it broke. I gave it to Raini. A day or so later another egg appears in the nest. I wasn’t in any great hurry to destroy it because she wasn’t incubating yet.

I don’t know if it was that same day or the next when a great amount of chatter emanated from the birds.

“What’s wrong with the birds?” Mike called from the other room.

That’s how different this chatter was from their normal chatter. Even Mike noticed. “I don’t know,” I called back. After a while I got up and looked in the nest and egg was gone! Glancing at the bottom of the cage I spotted the shattered egg. I don’t know if maybe the dominant female was getting rid of an egg from a lesser female, or if it was an accident.

>>>*<<<

The day after Mike helped me mow the dog run, I went out and the run was full of beautiful yellow dandelions. I know! I know! Not everyone is a dandelion lover! They sprang up overnight. Inevitably, my yellow field has now turned into a field of wishes, still beautiful, just in a different way.

Buttercups are blooming. 

Buttercups often symbolize happiness, wealth, prosperity, and childhood nostalgia. Children would play a game where they held a buttercup under the chin on a sunny day and if it reflects, it means you like butter.

There are over 500 kinds of buttercups.

In folk medicine, buttercups were used to treat wounds and for skin conditions such as eczema, warts, boils, and abscesses. Fresh leaves were used as an external rubefacient (causes redness of the skin) for rheumatism, gout, arthritis, and neuralgia.

Although folk medicine did use it for digestive issues, buttercups are toxic. They contain a compound called ranunculin which can cause irritation and poisoning if ingested in large amounts.

I can’t say this enough — know your weeds before you consume any.

          Chokecherries are blooming.

          So is the honeysuckle.

          And the Autumn Olive.

          My Sensation Lilacs are blooming, too. One of my bushes, the one that has a branch of all white lilacs, has died back and Mike cut all the dead branches away.

           We made a trip to Tunkhannock town and I took some road pictures for you.

          All along the highway, the Dame’s Rocket is blooming. This wildflower is often confused with Wild Phlox but there are some key differences. First, and the only thing I’m basing my identification on is, Dame's Rocket blooms in spring and Wild Phlox blooms late summer, early fall.

          If we weren’t barreling down the highway at sixty miles an hour, I could’ve stopped and counted petals. Dame’s Rocket has four petals and Wild Phlox has five.

          Dame’s Rocket has been traditionally used to induce sweating, promote urination, and loosen a cough. The leaves, rich in vitamin C, have been used to treat or prevent scurvy. You can eat the young, tender leaves raw or cooked. They have a sweet and slightly spicy flavor, similar to arugula. But too much of a good thing is bad. It could cause vomiting.

          We were just leaving Tunkhannock when I see something I’ve never noticed before, despite having lived here for eight years and traveled this road many times.

          “Is that a purple tree?” I asked Mike and pointed.

          He glanced then turned his attention back to the road. “Looks like it.”

          It was raining and dreary out and I cleaned the picture up as best as I could. From the way the flowers are draping, I’m wondering if this is Wisteria. Anyone know? 

          I spotted a hawk, too, but had to turn in my seat and shoot out the side window to get his picture.

 

          Saturday was recycle day and I took more road pictures on that trip.

          This is an old, privately owned bridge. When they replaced it, they pulled the old one up and left it.

Cows and their babies.

Let’s call this one done!

 

Wildflower Edition

         We stayed close to home this week and that doesn’t bode well for story-making. I did go out on a walkabout with my shadow, Raini, and took wildflower photos for you.

          Violets are blooming.

Historically, violets have been cherished since ancient times. The Greeks cultivated them around 500 BC, and they’ve been a symbol of love and fertility in Greek mythology.

Violets represent loyalty, devotion, faithfulness, modesty, and humility. The color of the violet also affects its meaning—blue violets symbolize love and faithfulness, white violets purity and chastity, and yellow violets high worth and goodness.

Some violets have a unique scent that can temporarily desensitize the receptors of the nose, making their fragrance elusive.

Violets are pollinated by insects, but some species are capable of self-pollination. Their seeds are catapulted away from the mother plant when the capsule containing them bursts open.

Both the leaves and flowers are edible, rich in vitamins, and can be used in salads or as garnishes.

Traditionally, violets have been used in herbal medicine to soothe coughs, reduce inflammation, relieve headaches, and they are believed to have diuretic properties and aid in digestion.

>>>*<<<

Mustard is blooming. If they have white flowers, it’s garlic mustard. If it has yellow flowers, like this one, it’s black mustard.

All parts of the black mustard plant are edible, from the spicy leaves to the seeds, which are used to make mustard sauce.

Black mustard can be invasive. All you have to do is look out across the landscape and see tons of it blooming.

In folk medicine, it’s been used for pain relief, congestion, and digestion. It’s a diuretic, anti-inflammatory, antimicrobial, and antifungal, which can help prevent infections. Poultices have been used to treat rheumatism and sciatica.

As with any plant you forage, the more you know, the better off you’ll be. You might think black mustard is pretty safe but it’s not. In large quantities it can cause throat damage, diarrhea, and breathing difficulties. Pregnant women should avoid using black mustard in medicinal amounts due to the risk of miscarriage.   

>>>*<<<

          These two tiny little flowers are different colors of Speedwell. There are 500 species and can range in color from white to purple, blue, and pink.

          In folk medicine, it was known as a cure-all herb. It was used to treat congestion, asthma, and other respiratory problems.

The leaves and flowers were often used to make teas with diuretic, expectorant, astringent, and diaphoretic properties. These teas were traditionally used to treat coughs, congestion, sore throats, swelling, edema, digestive issues, kidney problems, gout, ulcers, and high blood pressure.

As an astringent and bitter herb, an infusion of Speedwell was also used as a wash for troubled skin.

Gypsies took Speedwell tea as a blood purifier because it could induce sweating, “purify” blood and increase metabolism.

Speedwell has anti-inflammatory actions that can help reduce inflammation in the respiratory tract. 

Speedwell is also edible. The entire plant can be consumed, including flowers, young shoots, and leaves. It has a sharp, astringent flavor similar to watercress. You could add it to your salad or soup.

>>>*<<<

          Tent caterpillars are making their spring appearance.

          Driving down the road they’re easy to spot.

          These guys don’t normally kill the trees they’re in, but they could.

          They'll pupate in a month to six weeks, and three weeks later, they’ll be moths.

>>>*<<<

          I don’t know what kind of tree this is but I thought it was pretty.

>>>*<<<

          I had to get down real low to get this shot of dandelions for you and I don’t care what anyone says — I love dandelions! They’re often the first food source for bees in the spring.

Every part of the dandelion is edible. The leaves can be eaten in salads, the roots can be roasted to make a coffee-like beverage, and the flowers are used to make dandelion wine.

They’re a nutritional powerhouse as a cup of chopped raw dandelion greens provides 112 percent of the daily requirement for vitamin A at only 25 calories. They’re also rich in vitamin C, calcium, iron, and fiber.

Dandelions have been used medicinally for centuries, and they are known for their wide range of health benefits. Dandelion roots and leaves are believed to help detoxify the liver and promote liver health.

As a digestive aid, it’s used to stimulate appetite and help with digestion. It’s also considered a mild laxative and can help balance the natural and beneficial bacteria in the intestines.

Dandelion is a diuretic, antioxidant, and anti-inflammatory.

Some studies suggest that dandelions might help reduce blood sugar levels and help lower cholesterol.

Applied topically, dandelion can help heal minor skin injuries like cuts, scrapes, and minor burns.

>>>*<<<

          I was working on a project on my patio (which I may or may not tell you about right now) and watched a male and female cardinal land in a tree just outside the fence.

          The female flew in and landed on one of the branches I’ve put up near the feeders.

          I sat still as she checked me out.

          Feeling safe, she hopped to the sunflower feeder and ate a few seeds.

          Then she hopped to another nearby branch before flying back to the male.

          Cardinals are one of the most recognizable and loved birds in North America. They’re often the first birds to visit feeders in the morning and the last ones in the evening. They prefer feeding during twilight to avoid predators and competition.

Their name "cardinal" comes from the cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church who wear distinctive red robes. The bird's vibrant red plumage is reminiscent of this attire.

A cardinal in the wild lives about 3 years but the oldest recorded cardinal lived for 15 years and 9 months.

Cardinals don’t migrate. They spend their entire lives within a few kilometers of where they were born. A kilometer is roughly three-fifths of a mile. So, if by “a few kilometers” they mean five, then he spends his entire life in a three-mile radius.

The Northern Cardinal is so popular that it's the state bird of seven U.S. states.

>>>*<<<

I’ve had lots of birds at my feeders, and so have the Kipps. Besides the ones we have all year, I’ve had a beautiful Baltimore Oriole at my feeder this week, but I wasn’t able to get his picture. I’ll keep trying though.

The Kipps saw a bluebird, but it was there and gone so fast that Rosie didn’t get his picture either.

The Rose-breasted Grosbeak has been at both our feeders. These guys are members of the cardinal family.

My picture isn’t all that great so I’ll try for a better one.

>>>*<<<

Our apple trees are blooming.

Raini took advantage of my picture-making to chase frogs into the pond. 

          She came out with a weed in her mouth. I guess she feels like she caught something!

“Silly girl!” I told her. 

The last thing I wanted or needed was a dripping wet Heeler on my new carpet. I sat on the patio and she dried herself in the sun. 

I don’t take Bondi with us unless she’s on a leash because she has no compunction about running wherever she wants to go. In other words, she won’t stay with me and she won’t come when I call her back.

          She sat not far from me, sunning herself, too.

          Speaking of carpet, the carpet in the bedroom and closet was installed this week. After it was done, Mike put up enough baseboard that we could get the bed and the TV put back in. He was glad not to be sleeping on the floor anymore.

          Now we can get the bedroom and dining room put back in order. I know my handsome mountain man is anxious for it to be done and often pushes himself way beyond what most people could endure, but me? I don’t care if it takes a month of Sundays to get done. I haven’t any plans to entertain.

>>>*<<<

          “I have a bunch of little flowers coming up that look like little pansies,” I told my Miss Rosie on a morning love call.

          “I believe those are called Johnny Jump-Ups,” she told me.

          And I believe she’s right.

          I was pulling weeds from the flower beds when I came across a couple of these things.

At first, I thought it was a hard shell, like a chrysalis, but that belief was quickly dispelled when it started wiggling and moving in my hand. It’s the larva of a moth. I tried to find out what he would turn into but I got so many different answers during my search that I gave up. Short of keeping him until he changes, I won’t know.

          Something else that’s blooming this week is the beautiful Dogwood.

          Right under this Dogwood tree, blooming at the same time, is the Fringed Polygala, also called Gaywings. It’s an orchid-like plant and only about six inches tall.

          This plant has both showy insect-pollinated flowers and inconspicuous flowers that self-fertilize underground.

Historically, the Iroquois used the leaves externally as a wash or poultice to treat skin inflammations such as abscesses, boils, and sores.

Its name is derived from Greek, where "poly" means "many" and "gala" means "milk". It was once believed that cattle eating this plant would produce a lot of milk. 

>>>*<<<

On a trip to town, we were behind this motorcycle, following a truck, when the rider decided to pass in a no-passing zone. I took the picture just for kicks and grins.

They’re really working on this barn. “I’m wondering if they’re going to make it into an event venue,” I said to Mike.

Getting married in a barn or having a family reunion there has been all the rage the last few years.

We did the shopping, had lunch, and on the way home saw a motorcycle passing in a no-passing zone again. Looking at it on my ‘puter (it’s fuzzy when I zoom in), I can tell it’s a red motorcycle, like the other one, the driver is wearing a backpack, just like the other one, and has on a blue helmet, just like the other one. I think it’s the same guy.

He managed to get around this line of traffic just ahead of oncoming traffic. He keeps this up and he’s gonna get a ticket or worse yet, he’s gonna push his luck too far and get d-e-d dead! 

Boaters on the Susquehanna. I don’t know if they’re kayakers or canoers so I played it safe and called ‘em boaters.

Two wrecked cars with SADD (Students Against Drunk Drivers) banners draped over them. I’m guessing these cars were involved in drinking-related accidents and are meant to prove a point. 

A Great Blue Heron sitting in our pretty little creek. I snapped this picture as we crossed the bridge. 

>>>*<<<

I decided it was time to separate my Zebra Finches. I don’t want any more birds (I might’ve told you that before), and Meep and Meepette keep producing one clutch after another.

I took the baby cage, the cage with my three babies, into the small bathroom for the extraction procedure. If any escape the cage while I’m trying to catch one, it’ll be easier to catch in there instead of chasing him all over the house — a mistake I made once before.

I chased birds all around the cage and couldn’t catch a single one. After twenty minutes I finally thought to take everything out of the cage, all the toys, the house, and the perches. I caught the female in just a few minutes. I took her and put her in the cage with Meep and Meepette. Then I took Meep and Meepette’s cage into the bathroom and having learned from experience, took everything out. I was able to catch Meep in short order and moved him to the other cage.

Life is good, right?

Wrong!

One of my males was aggressively chasing the other. I’m going to guess it was Meep chasing Meep Junior. He didn’t bother the white one so I’m guessing she’s a girl.

I read up on it and it said to make sure the cage was big enough and you can remove the house to maybe help with territorial aggression.

I took the house out. It didn’t help.

There were even a couple of times I thought the girls were fighting, too.

So, I’m sitting at my desk and look up every time a squabble ensues. I can’t take Meep back out because I don’t know which one Meep is. I should’ve tagged him first, but I didn’t. But I could tag one now and see which one was doing the aggressing.

“But, Peg, if you put him back with Meepette, you’ll have eggs again!” you say.

I know, right! I guess I’m thinking I’d rather get rid of eggs than have all the fighting going on.

I found some easy snap-on leg bands and ordered them.

In the meantime, I’m thinking about it. If I don’t care about having eggs, why not put my cages together and let them go between them?

I would’ve liked to put the cages so the doors were facing each other, but that wouldn’t work. I wouldn’t be able to get to the food and water cups or the tray in the bottom to clean it. That left only one option. Mike helped me put them back-to-back, clip a few wires, and bend them up, creating an opening in both cages.

The birds couldn’t see there was an opening and never challenge the wires. If they find the opening, it would be accidental. After a few hours, I decided to put a stick through the opening and secure it on both ends. From there it didn’t take long for the girls to find their way into the boy cage.

Sometimes I end up with five in one cage and one in the other, but they move freely between the two cages now that they know about the doorway. The only one that I’ve never seen crossover is the white finch. She’s stayed in the same cage. It’s only been a couple of days so maybe that will change. 

Let’s call this one done!