A peck of owls

My owl cushion is finished and its awesome and I love it. See below. He's a Boobook Owl.

As I was taking photos of my cushion, I thought to myself, "why not take photos of all your owls" and as I couldn't give myself a good reason not to, here is my collection of wols. And there is a run-on sentence.

First up, these three guys are my babushka owls. They are carved wood and I bought them in Port Macquarie on our last holiday there.

This necklace was one of my first items of owllery and I still love him.

Believe it or not, this little guy is a lip gloss - chocolate flavour. But I'm going to keep him even after I finish the lipgloss.

This little ring is totally inappropriate for everyday wear (especially in my job), but I love wearing it whenever I can get away with it.

My latest aquisitions in owllery, are these adorable earings purchased in Hobart last month.

This necklace is really my only piece if owllery that is small enough and subtle enough to be worn on any normal day.

This is a cute little ornament I couldn't resist.

And this is the newest piece in my collection - a snowy owl tee from Cafe Press.

The Skull...

The other day, Christie and I were on a secret mission for work in the region of the Freycinet Peninsula and we (well, mostly Christie) stumbled upon this skull. Because I'm a birdo, Christie tasked me with identifying its erstwhile owner. After being threatened with punishments that Christie would be powerless to enforce, I did my assigned homework tonight and have come up with the answer: it was a White-Headed Petrel. It was a fairly easy id; the magnificent (and rather scary) hook in the beak told me it was a fishing bird, the white feathers gave me a clue about its colouring, and its measurements helped me narrow down the field until I only had one bird left. Of course, I could be entirely wrong, but I maintain that I'm not. So there!

P.S. This is what a White-Headed Petrel looks like when its slightly less deadified.

Vote result...

Well, you are a particularly indecisive bunch of voters, but I'm grateful that I still have some readers that are willing to vote.

I have decided to use this pattern:


But it will be on a cushion (yes, this example is one a bag not a cushion - well done, Rob), and will have some personal touches.

I'll post a photo when its done.

A work of fiction.

She lay on the ground, with her head slightly raised on her elbows so she could keep a lookout. The bracken ferns covering her made her almost invisible, but she was still terrified that she would be seen before she could take the shot. A small stone was digging sharply into her hip, but as she moved slightly the dry eucalyptus leaves beneath her cracked and crunched, making her freeze again. She would have to leave the stone were it was. It was a small price to pay considering the job she was here to do. Another mosquito buzzed gently around her, landing on the back of her neck, but she didn’t dare swat it. She was going to be covered in bites by the time she was finished, but it was worth it. One whiff of insect repellent might have given her position away and put the whole mission in jeopardy. She heard a noise in the bush only a few metres from where she lay concealed in the bracken. Her heartbeat quickened as she gently turned her head towards the disturbance, but it was not the quarry that she sought, merely a wallaby grazing obliviously. As she watched the wallaby, completely mesmerized by it, it glanced swiftly behind it and began to hop quickly away. She strained her eyes to see what the wallaby had seen and somewhere overhead the alarm call of a honeyeater rang out. The moment had arrived. She knew she would only have one shot; it would have to be perfect. Her heart began to pound loudly in her ears and she made an effort to calm herself. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, a familiar form stood in the clearing in front of her. She carefully took aim, looking down the barrel, and centring the cross hairs between the yellow eyes.

“Click!”

The thylacine ran, but it didn’t matter – she had the photograph. She had proof; the thylacine lives.

Written in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep.

Vote

Hey guys,
I need your opinion on something. I want to do an owl related craftiness that will result in me having some sort of owlish throw pillow, but I'm a bit stuck. Should I:

A. Have a cushion shaped cushion with an owl appliqued on it. See examples below.

OR

B. Have an owl shaped cushion. See example bellow.

Let me know in the comments.

The unexpected housemate

Tiani and I are renting a fairly spaceous 3 bedroom home. The thought of having a third housemate had occured to both of us, but as we didn't know anyone that was in need of a place to live (anyone we were prepared to live with, that is), the third bedroom stood almost completely empty and unused. Until a couple of days ago.

Tiani's other best friend, Christine, was in need of short term accomadation in Launny in short notice and asked if she could rent the third bedroom. She moved in on Monday, and now there are three of us. Christine is studying at uni, so she only needs somewhere to live in Launny until the end of the uni semester, but maybe she'll stay on.

Tiani and I were discussing last night how our lives could be turned into a sitcom following the lives of the three young women who lived in the house on Westbury Rd, but we decided that there would probably need to be a love interest for either myself or Christine to make the story line interesting so its not likely to happen. If we did have a sitcom, I would name it "Three's a Crowd" because I think its a very sitcom-y name.

Mad Eye Tawny

This is Mad Eye Tawny, a Tawny Frogmouth. Its not a great photo of him because I didn't want to use the flash and blind him or disturb him too much, but its better than nothing. Unfortuantely, this little guy was hit by my cousin's car, but, fortunately, he stopped and checked on him. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to fly away by himself, Rob (who was travelling in convoy whith Chris) rang me up for advice. Mum and I then had a short notice road trip to Deloraine to pick him up, and brought him home to Mum and Dad's. There were no obvious major injuries, so I treated him for shock and concussion by giving him a hot water bottle and blanket and leaving him in a dark, quiet room for the night. Fidget didn't even notice that there was an owl in her house, but this morning she did throw a bit of a tantrum because she had been shut out of the room he was in all night and I was going in and out but denying her access.

This morning, I rang the wildlife care coordinator and she gave me the number of a carer that specialises in birds like Mad Eye. The carer, as it turns out, lives in Legana just over the road from the vet clinic I was taking Sophie to, so I packed Mad Eye in my cat's emergency evacuation box and Sophie in her comfy cardboard box into the front seat of my car and dropped of Mad Eye on the way to the vet. Hopefully he doesn't have any broken bones, and he'll be release back into the wild after a couple of days care.