She just got back from a 'coffee morning' that she organised for the idle female friends she got to know in Muscat. All coffee mornings used to be in Qurum/Shatti area, but not for the Seeb/Al Hail where we lived. So she started one yesterday and apparently 10 woman folks eventually turned up in a coffee shop in that Carrefour City Center.
She told them to meet at 11 am, on 11th, Nov. I was shocked! I told her that 11 of 11 of 11 is a sacred moment, not appropriate for a start to 'coffee morning' . I subjected her to a long lecture to that moment of remembrance. Maybe I am a man, and more martial. Man are also more naturally smarter, wiser and philosophical. Most unlike that silly nursery jingle that make you think we are made of snails and puppy dog tails whereas females are made of sugar and spice and everything nice.
So she had changed that time to 1030am.
And she just got back.
She wailed "Katie is stuck on top of neighbour roof the whole day!" Words of 'starving to death' , 'dying of thirst' 'I must rescue her' were thrown at me. I wondered my thoughts aloud to her as how she knew Katie was stuck the whole day when she just got back. She ignored my thoughts and continued to wail about poor poor Katie.
And in me, I thought 'Heaven has eyes'. 'Karmic retribution on that evil one!' crossed my mind. Of course, I assumed you read of how Katie tried to kill me in http://shanlung.livejournal.com/79517.html about 3 weeks ago.
I guess that accelerate the goodwill visit we needed to pay to our poor suffering neighbours. They were from Eqypt and we had exchanged friendly words before, except we had not been into their villa yet.
So I picked up biscuits and chocalates as little gifts before I went home.
To see , and hear, with greatest of pleasure , Katie meowing her head off on the neighbour's roof. She was about 15 feet above ground. She must have climbed a tree on other side of roof, made her way towards direction of our villa, got into a cul de sac just above the entrance door and wailing out her misery. I told her not to be an idiot and just jump down. She got her front paws down the wall as much as she could, screamed and pull back on the roof.
One of the thing that endear Oman to me and my wife. Within the week of our moving in, we got to know our nice neighbour on both sides. In a year of living in Brisbane, our neighbours there did not wish to know us, did not return greetings we made to them, drew their curtains violently should they see us out of their windows.
We have so many more friends in Oman than in Brisbane. I guess the high cost of living there made the Aussies that much less friendly. Living with few friends is not meaningful to me. If I stayed on in Brisbane for a few months more, I would have my Permanent Residence cherished by so many people. But I thought since I changed my mind about retiring in Australia, the obtaining of PR mattered a lot less to me.
I went in to give mash to Riamfada , give her headrubs, switched on the lights in her room and told her I be back again.
Then we went over to see our neighbour, knocked on the door, and was welcomed in by the lady of that house, Madam Azza and her little son. I apologised for that Katie, and assured her that she would be down soon and I was so sorry for that. Azza was so nice about that. And during that chat, I heard a loud crash and I guessed Katie got tired of waiting for her rescue and decided to jump down.
Shortly after that, we left our neighbour. My wife told me she saw a flash of black and white. I did not see a black and white body broken on the ground. I did not see a kitty crawling on broken legs. When we got back, Katie was on the patio, complaining her kibble was not fresh any more and that we should throw that away or eat it ourselves. And can we bring out canned kitten gourmet food.
Katie was not even polite and continued on her old trick of trying to cripple me weaving those figure of 8s about my ankle.
(edited on 8 May 09 to include yet another retribution that fell on horrid Katie
We then drove to the sea side village of Al Seeb to buy a kilo of sunflower seeds, as well as some thin twine that we saw and I planned to whip on top of the basket handle so Riamfada can be more comfortable there.
On the way back on the coastal road, we saw a new restaurant between Al Seeb and just before the Shell petrol station. It had a Japanese like name that I just could not recall right now. Intrigued, we stopped to check that out. To find that was a Swahili/Zanzibar restaurant instead. The people there were very friendly and explained their menu to us as best as they can. We told them we might like to try that some time later, when we gathered enough adventurous friends with us.
We had a quick dinner later at a place we know near another petrol station as we did not feel that adventurous yet. We have had chicken Manchurian and beef masala a few days before. That was very simple and very good. We thought of trying new dishes even if we were not that adventurous to try Swahili dished that we could not understand despite all those explanations.
We ordered different dishes but found that those were not available. And in the end, it was chicken manchurian, beef masala yet again with a pile of soft flaky delicious Indian wheat bread roti prata washed down with pomegranate juice for my wife and orange juice for me. This feast was 4.5 OR.
The kitties were then kicked out of the villa. Riamfada was wheeled out in his cage.
He was really finding his wings notwithstanding that asymmetrical clipping inflicted on him.
He had not liked the basket perch. After great effort on my part of whipping the twine round and round the handle, I got him to step up on the stick.
His claws were sharp. I tried clipping the claw of Tinkerbell. I cut too deep and her blood flowed and flowed. That was such a traumatic experience I have had (and reported in Tinkerbell chronicles) and I became incapable of ever clipping another parrot claw again. The sharp claws digged into my skin and flesh as Riamfada happily step up on me. During that turtle watching weekend when I swam in the ocean, my hand burned when the sea water found all those scratches and scabs.
Thats why I reverted back to using stick for him to step on while I figure if I should file his claw down.
As I took him to the basket and asked him to step up, I could see his reluctance, and adversion. Ungrateful beastie! After all the hard work I did in whipping that handle.
He turned on that stick, and took off. I thought he was flying back to the bar. He did so. Then he hovered as if in thought. Then he veered and flew to the wall, changed direction , and flew back to me. He hovered and flew back to the bar doing a circuit around the living room.
I had to say I was happy with my handi work.
I had 'encourage' him to fly, voilational flying in the time he was with me. I got to know certain places he did not like to be on. So I took him there, and left him. Then in a short while, he flew off on his own accord to the bars that he liked, or to top of his cage that he liked. Or to my shoulder that he liked , but I did not like so much. His claws digged into my shoulder normally bare , or a thin singlet.
We did our usual exercises
Here are some of his photos and videos of last night.
You can see the big gap in the right wing feathers. Yet he flew so well now.
You also see the remodeled parallel bar stand with the stainless steel bar covered in cloth. The white short bars were stuck on with aquarium silicon glue to the base. That supported the newspaper better. If he did not blew them away with his flights. Back to that drawing board for me.
Then you see videos of 'touch target'. He moved up, down, crab walk on bars to left, to right, to touch the target that I requested of him.
That was why I was so happy my wife located hemp twine.
You seen that with Tinkerbell. Later on, Riamfada will be flying to places to 'touch target'. He will be pulling up beak over claw to get his target.
Shhhh... I have not told him yet. I need to think up more stuff. We cannot allow him to be bored can we?
And to show how much Riamfada trusted me now.
Those of you with parrots and greys especially, you know how it felt like when he/she sleeps on his/her back on your hands
If what I wrote help you and you like to help, give a thought
for the wildlife sharing our planet.
Do write that cheque to Gerald Durrell wildlife trust
or to any wildlife conservation body of your choice