Lucky the Parakeet

This afternoon the three ducks we keep in our garden were making their typical racket, each day for us is filled with various duck calls. The female in the groups makes it very well know she is hungry and wants some feed. We have the ducks to deal with the slug problem; living in the Pacific Northwest we have more than our share of slugs.

Early afternoon today the female duck started calling loudly, it was a mix of her “I want something” and “I’m distressed” calls. My wife went out to investigate. All three ducks had managed to get inside the small fence around the greenhouse at the center of the garden. The small fence is there to keep them out of the herbs and flowers. The female was calling for extraction from the hot zone, much like commandos might call for extraction after a raid.

As my wife worked to get the ducks on the right side of the fence she noticed two crows diving into a nearby bush; this caught her attention. In the bush a flash of color was seen that didn’t seem to fit, blue against the green of the bush.

In the bush was a blue male parakeet, both of his feet were gummed in tree sap. He was hanging by one leg upside down, his other foot covered in sap, unusable. My wife shushed the crows away and started to rescue the poor parakeet. Our chickens came to investigate and had to be locked in the run outside their coop. The little frightened parakeet fought back as my wife worked to free him, biting her several times.

Once she had him freed she noticed his wings were clipped, there was more tree sap on his tail. A quick phone call to the local vet provided my wife a game plan to remove the sap. The vet was afraid of the parakeet getting it inside his beak if he tried to remove the sap himself. A few minutes with Goo-Gone, a solvent used to remove label glue freed his feet. A foot soak in diluted vinegar neutralized the solvent. She picked the remaining spots of sap from his tail.

We have several cages on our property, a suitable cage was found, and perches installed, feeder and waterier bought.

The vet mentioned that if he was outdoors last night he will most likely die from pneumonia within a day.  There is nothing she can do to prevent this. Morning will tell if he will live or not.

I would guess by now you’ve figured out why he was quickly named Lucky, the ducks getting into the herb bed lead to his rescue. Hopefully his luck will hold out and he will live past tomorrow.

He’s spent the day in our bedroom, exploring his new cage. He’s played with the bell and even perched on my wife’s finger a few times. He seems healthy and happy so far. His feet seem fine. All toes work, he perches fine and moves around the cage like a pro.

We’ll watch the neighborhood for signs, the local paper for lost ads. We live in the country and are fairly isolated from our neighbors. The one neighbor we were able to contact reported no missing parakeets.

If he lives and isn’t claimed by his owners he’ll have a happy life here. For friends he’ll have three crazy ducks, a dozen chickens; half of which are old enough they no longer lay. We let them live out their senior years free ranging and enjoying cracked corn as a treat. Lucky will also need to get to know two rabbits, a dog and our cat. It’s a zoo but honestly we wouldn’t have it any other way.

A quick update – Lucky is doing well. He’s healthy and happy having joined our family.

Another update – Lucky has been with us for over a year now, he’s healthy, happy and noisy.

Working from home.

My day job is in the tech sector where I work for one of the largest producers of software and software based services in the world. They have a great work from home policy. As most of my job is accomplished in the virtual world created by computers and networks it really doesn’t matter where I do the work from.

I call into a conference line for many meetings removing the need for me to be physically present at them.

Most of what I do at work is virtual; most meetings can be held virtually. They even pay me with virtual money that is ‘direct deposited’ into my accounts, I never actually see a check, heck even my paystub is virtual as it’s online.

I use a decent laptop computer for the majority of my work; I have a ‘work’ station both at work and at home, the core environment: two LCD displays, keyboard, mouse and docking stations are duplicated at both sites. You could say they are virtually identical – pun intended.

Connecting to my employer from home is simple enough. A broadband connection at home, some software installed on my laptop that allows me to connect to the VPN connection my employer provides.  It’s simple and clean overall. The only time I really notice I’m ‘remoted in’ from home is when I need to push a large file out from my home network, a 512K upload speed may sound fast, and it generally feels that way until a large file is uploaded.

There are many other upsides to working from home. I don’t burn 2-3 gallons of gas during the commute. I don’t add wear and tear to my car. I don’t spend 2+ hours in the car sitting in traffic. I can work in shorts and a tee-shirt, oh wait; I can wear shorts and tee-shirts to work as well. At home I can be more focused as my phone isn’t ringing every 10 minutes and I don’t have the random person walking into my office.

Still it turns out the one thing I miss is the interaction with people, as disruptive as having someone stop by my office can be I miss hearing about their weekend or being invited to make a coffee run.

Personally I’m not a fan of email, or IM, or any technology that breaks the ‘person to person’ connections I have with my coworkers and customers when we are physically in the same room. I’d much rather discuss an issue on the phone then in email, or even better; face to face. I hate IM, it’s the ultimate randomizer of my day. Some of my co-workers use IM for everything, there is a constant ‘ding-ding’ from their laptops as the IMs roll in.

So – I Guess I’m fickle; I don’t want the interruptions at my door as I try to work yet I miss connecting with people face to face. I want my cake and by god, I want to eat it too.

Computers were supposed to herald the age of paperless offices, instead they account for an increased need for paper in the workplace. Wasn’t technology supposed to make communications easier? At times technology meets this expectation a bit. Still for me, email and IM have no soul, you can’t see the other person (and no, I don’t believe having a webcam and sharing real-time video will alleviate what I feel is missing.)

Sometimes, a handshake, a genuine smile and a shared laugh are what the relationship needs to keep it ‘human’.

NIXIEs and PIXIEs and Numitrons, Oh, my!

OK, I admit it, I’m a geek. Self taught electronics engineer, self taught programmer. I’ve worked in both industries for more years then I’d like to admit. Several years ago I came across a web site with a NIXIE Tube clock. For those of you who don’t know what a NIXIE tube is I’ll define it for you. It’s a display tube from the 1950s and 60s. It has little wires in it, formed into numbers; the glass tube is filled with neon gas. With the right voltages applied the numbers glow orange, a very satisfying orange. It’s not like the stark mono-colored red, green or orange that modern LEDs generate. This glow is earthy, organic and very satisfying to the eye. A great example of a NIXIE clock is at http://www.franktechniek.nl/NixieClock/CD81-6-V3/nixie3.htm

I found a kit on the web and ordered it, waiting for it to be delivered from the Netherlands. The designer of that kit turned out to be a great guy (http://www.franktechniek.nl/). The kit arrived, full of wonder for me. The little NIXIE tubes each felt like a precious work of art as I held them, knowing they are no longer manufactured and haven’t been for decades. I was charmed when in the middle of the assembly instructions there was a step asking me to take a break and have a cookie, the cookie having been included in the kit, a special treat all the way from the Netherlands.

Our mailman, as nice a guy as you’d ever want to meet commented on this box from the Netherlands, he’d never seen a package from there before. Today I have ordered parts and kits from people all over the world including parts from the old Soviet Union; these are surplus from the cold war era. I guess this just goes to show how small the world has become. Our mailman has now seen boxes from all over the world.

I’ve mentioned in previous posts my wife collects frog stuff, well I collect NIXIE stuff, and to a smaller extent clock stuff. I’ve built a few kits and designed and built a few clocks of my own. Driving fifty year old technology with modern electronics and software makes for a fun hobby.

I’m left wondering what the appeal of these clocks is for the group of us who collect them, who build things with them. I subscribe to the NEONIXIE group on Yahoo! Groups. There is a large collection of people (1721 at the time I wrote this) who frequent the group, from all walks of life, every ago group, and occupation. There are so many countries represented that I’ve lost count. We all have in common this one simple thing, a tube, now obsolete, no longer manufactured anywhere in the world that produces a nice satisfying orange glow. Perhaps it’s this glow that ties us together.

Visit the NEONIXIE group – http://groups.yahoo.com/group/NEONIXIE-L/

Some NIXIE clock sellers I‘ve bought from include:

·         http://www.franktechniek.nl/

·         http://www.ledsales.com.au/

·         http://www.tubehobby.com/

You can also search EBay for ‘NIXIE’, usually there are a couple hundred items listed.

The frogs of spring in five acts

Little did we know when we bought our small house in Maple Valley, Washington that we would experience the frogs each spring.

We knew we were a bit off the beaten path, this was very deliberate. We have about one and one-half acres: mostly wooded, pristine, and beautiful. Across the country street we live on is a working horse farm, there is a smallish pond in the field directly across from us. To the west towards the back of our property a small creek meanders into another pond, this one bigger, perhaps big enough to be a swimming hole.

My wife has always loved frogs; she collects frog stuff, from dish towels to Christmas tree ornaments, its needless to say we have a lot of frog stuff in our home.

Our first spring was amazing, we noticed there were more and more frogs appearing in the yard, on the house, in the trees, little tree frogs were everywhere if you took the time to look. Then one evening a large bull frog started calling, buuurrrriiiipppp, buuurrrriiiipppp, from across the street. He was soon joined by a chorus of low rumbling calls coming from both ponds. We enjoyed them, not knowing they were only the first act.

Within a few nights the calls of the smaller frogs joined in, act two had started. Tens, then hundreds of little voices added their sound to the still night air – ribbit, ribbit. Each night the symphony grew louder, until it reached such a frenzy of sound it was almost too loud to listen too. If you cross the street you can get to within 20 feet of the little pond, the sound is so intense it makes your ears rings, you can almost feel the air buzzing around you.

One night I was out in the yard, probably waiting for the pizza delivery guy to arrive, they often need help finding us; I’ve found waiting by the road with a flashlight in hand helps. A car shot past, the roar of the frogs was replaced with silence, silence so profound it was shocking. More seconds passed, then one little voice appeared, ribbit. His voice was tiny, not like the large bull frogs. Seconds passed, and then I heard ribbit again. I thought he must be the bravest frog of the bunch and imagined the other frogs waiting to hear him again before they found the courage to call out. Ribbit, Ribbit – like a stereo having the volume slowly turned up the sound grew, two voices, five, ten, hundreds. I counted off the seconds in my head; it took fully fifteen seconds before my ears started to ring again. I had been there for the intermission, followed by act three. Act four was waiting, waiting to be discovered.

The pond behind the house is much further away, and much larger. Even with the trees between the pond and the rear deck the chorus from that pond is just as loud, I suspect a larger pond means more voices, more frogs. This sound is not quite as intense, still considering how far away it is I’m impressed by it. The frogs in this pond own act four; their call is constant as it’s not interrupted by passing cars.

Our driveway is directly between the two ponds, and this leads to act five. One evening I was standing in the driveway, doing driveway things.  As I moved around I found a spot where you could hear both ponds clearly if you turn such that one ear faces each pond. Hearing the two together is odd, the sound seems out of phase, it almost sets up a rattle in your brain, like two trumpets slightly out of tune blasting in each ear. This is act five, each pond trying to outcall the other.

I’m not sure if it’s the males calling the females or the other way around, still I wonder how, from all the voices I hear what differentiates one voice from the others to a prospective mate. I guess only the frogs know what differentiates a Barry White frog voice from a Pee Wee Herman frog voice.

My thoughts on the 2007 Whidbey Island Writers Conference

Wow, let me say that again – WOW! I’ve just returned from the 2007 Whidbey Island Writers Conference (http://www.writeonwhidbey.com/Conference/). This was my first year attending the conference; last year I lurked while my wife attended.

By actually participating this year, I was amazed at how much I learned over 3 fast days. I was even more amazed at the people I met:  Authors, editors, agents and publishers, and every one of them willing to give me, a total unknown, some of their time, their advice, their insights and encouragement.  WHAT a change from the computer and electronics based conferences I attended in the past, where in the end it was about selling you something, about turning a buck. And while certainly we all need to pay the bills, in my opinion the conference professionals were first and foremost about the people. This came through in every talk I attended, in every person I chatted with, in every friend I made.  And I suspect…no, suspect is wrong; I know this will turn out to be one of the best investment I’ve ever made.

My wife is the writer in the family.  Last year, the energy and excitement I heard and felt, as she recounted her day over dinner, enchanted me, it spoke to my soul, to the core of who I am, who I want to be. What I didn’t find last year, being a lurker, was how to incorporate these feelings into my life. Through my wife’s impressions I could see into this world. I however didn’t know what I could do to join the community beyond being inspired to actually write instead of just thinking about it. I put pen to paper, well actually fingers to keyboard and the stories flowed out. I hadn’t understood I needed to ‘get them out’ until I experienced it firsthand.

Attending this year has taken this up an order of magnitude; insights into the realities of writing, of the business side or writing. I’m left with so many ideas, so many things to do, so many directions to run I need to decompress a bit and get it organized. This blog is one of those things.

At the Conference this year many professionals talked about the businesses they have crafted inside this world or those they work for; not in a ‘trying to sell you something’ manor, instead in a ‘here is what you really need to know’ manor.  In their words I realized I needed to be the one to focus on the business side of my wife’s career, of building her brand, facilitating her marketing, making her name one you will hopefully soon recognize.

It’s rare that I can honestly say my soul has felt nourished; it was at the Conference this year.

To each of the emerging writers out there who have never attended a writers conference I suggest you find a small local one in your area and go. Stay away from the large conferences for now, in this case smaller is truly better. Sit in some talks, meet the people, you don’t have to pitch your work, you don’t have to show it to still gain a lot. I guarantee you will meet people just like you; it doesn’t matter if you are too unsure to show your work or, are ready, manuscript in hand to take on the world. If you’re not sure about a conference look for a critique group in your area, meet the people, feel their energy, participate. One theme I heard at the Conference was ‘Everyone has a story needing to be told’. I believe this myself; find the right avenue to allow you to start to tell your story.

If I’ve inspired you to make it to the 2008 WIWA Conference let me know, I’d love to meet you there and in my own way pass on some of the gift I was given this year.

If you’re an emerging writer in the Maple Valley, Washington area and want to join a critique group let me know, we’re forming a new one now, after all the wife and I are both emerging writers ourselves.