I just completed another section of the Shelburne Museum Albums….this one is on the Fifties House and because I graduated from high school, married, had two sons, and a divorce all in the fifties it was a time for me filled with precious memories and challenges that sometimes seemed insurmountable.

Walking into this house at the Shelburne Museum was a fascinating step back in time. So since returning home, I have been looking at old photos and reminiscing. I have added one to this post from the Angelus Dance which was the equivalent of Junior Prom at my Catholic Girls school. I was 17 and the year was 1953. The dress was a pink felt jumper and how about that suit my date is sporting? Cool huh!

Photos from the Shelburne 50’s House are in the newest album shown in the right margin. Click on it and then click on slide show. Comments are included. Just click on “show more info” at the top to read them. Adjust the photo size (800×800 works well for me). and then adjust slide speed. Sit back and enjoy the Nifty Fifties. A little Blueberry Hill music in the background would be nice.

Come See the Newest Album

Gloria, my wonderful friend and webmaster, has been working on my albums for me. The weblog now shows a photo from the last album posted. Right now the album is of the Carousel and the Circus Building at Shelburne Museum in Vermont. I had a ball taking photos of the beautiful carousel horses and other museum items. Please take a moment and click on the photo in the sidebar on the right. It will take you to the album. You can view the album as a slide show or as page by page. If you do the slideshow, set the top information to suit your computer. I will be curious to know what you think of the format and if you like the new album style so please take a moment to view and to reply to this post.

What a nice surprise. I went online to visit a blogger friend over at Mamma’s Corner and found a reference to my blog. Her latest post features a poster I made using an anonymous quote I had discovered and liked. I posted it on my blog under the title, Affirmation. In the post, I Wish You Enough, she included it, as well as, a beautiful Mother-Daughter story . It is a definite “warm fuzzy” (A term from my teaching second grade days meaning something that makes you feel good) and I immediately had to call Bob in to see and read it. So thank you, Mary. I am glad the quote and sampler has had a little resurrection over at your place and I love the story that goes with it.

My brother Dick, sent me this from the Washington Post. It is by Courtland Milloy and is both about a lost parrot and what is being done to save pet birds in New Orleans. Since I just posted about my loves yesterday, I thought this would make a timely and pertinent follow-up.

From the Washington Post

A flier at some pet stores and animal hospitals in our area asks for help finding Hobson, also known as Hobby, an African grey parrot, who flew away from home July 23. The bird’s owner, Jessica Angeli of Accokeek, says her heart is broken but not her spirit, and she has not given up hope.

“Hobby would see me in the morning and say, ‘What are you doing? Are you hungry?’ ” she recalled during an interview at her home. “Hob is very articulate. She can whistle the theme song from ‘The Andy Griffith Show,’ whistle Jimi Hendrix’s ‘Angel,’ and do ‘Sunshine of Your Love’ by Cream.”

Not your average birdbrain.

For the past week, Angeli has put her grief aside and sprung into action with Katrina Parrots, a nationwide effort spread by word of mouth to save birds that were separated from their owners during the storm. This might seem to some like a trivial pursuit in the midst of such overwhelming human suffering. But consider that the bird people have been rescuing parrots and cockatoos from places in New Orleans where others wouldn’t go even to save their neighbors.

“We send rescuers to the addresses where owners had to leave their birds behind,” said Angeli, 34, a secretary with Northrop Grumman at Baltimore-Washington International Airport. She also volunteers with a bird rescue group called 911 Parrot Alert, which has a Web site for posting reports of parrots in distress worldwide. “Our people on the Gulf Coast have waded through water, broken down doors, climbed through windows, whatever it takes to get the birds out alive.”

Perhaps only pet lovers can appreciate such devotion. But even the most die-hard PETA person must acknowledge that parrot people are a breed apart. A dog may express itself with the wag of tail; a cat may purr. But when you’ve heard, say, a verbal exchange between your parrot and your 3-year-old stepson, as Angeli has, the phrase “It’s not a pet; it’s a member of the family” takes on a whole new meaning.

“Hobby would say, ‘Where’s Dada?’ ” Angeli recalled. “And Dominique would say, ‘Hobby, stop asking about Daddy.’ And Hobby would say, ‘No. Where’s Dada?’ ”

Chris Teutsch is Dada, an auto mechanic and recreational hunter who is more inclined to blow a bird out of the air than try to coax a parrot out of a tree. That is, until Angeli brought the bird home in 1998. Before long, Teutsch was taking showers with Hobby perched on a stand that he’d installed near the showerhead.

“I liked that bird,” he said.

He’d been riding a lawn mower that evening in July, and Angeli had opened the door to bring in pieces of a bunk bed when Hobby was startled by the noise and flew the coop. Teutsch got out the night-vision goggles that he uses for hunting, and Angeli grabbed a whistle that Hobby always mimicked, and they stayed out until sunup looking in vain for the bird. And they’ve been searching ever since.

On the day of my visit, Angeli and another parrot person, Cindy Magee, were about to take pounds of donated bird food and dozens of bird cages to BWI. Continental Airlines had agreed to fly the supplies, no charge, to Baton Rouge, where they would be distributed to volunteers who were keeping the rescued birds until they could be reunited with their owners.

For the record: Birds are a big deal in the Big Easy. Before the storm, flocks of feral parrots nested in palm trees throughout the city, although there was not much love for their incessant squawking. The domesticated variety, on the other hand, is the object of much affection. You might see an exotic scarlet macaw perched on a mahogany stand at a mansion in the Garden District or come upon a child playing with a parakeet in a Lower Ninth Ward apartment or be whistled at by a handsome African grey riding on the shoulder of a hustler in the French Quarter.

“What we are doing for homeless birds in New Orleans is amazing,” Angeli said.

Now all she needs is for someone to help Hobby find her way home.

I have been asked many times to write about Tweetie and Josephine, our African Grey Parrots so here goes. Tweetie was Bob’s parrot and his closest friend in his years as a widower. Josephine was my classroom parrot for about ten years as well as a member of my household.

Having both lost our spouses, Bob and I met on the internet. The connecting link was that we both owned and loved African Greys. E-mails flew back and forth and lots of them included antics of our birds. How could I help but fall in love with a guy who would name a parrot Tweetie after a yellow cartoon canary. He obviously was in need of rescue.

Well to make a long story short, we met, fell in love, and married a year later. Our fourth anniversary is just around the corner. Tweetie and Josephine became part of a blended family flock and now spend a lot of time together on top of their cages, however, they draw the line about sharing the insides of the cages.

The first time I met Tweetie was at Bob’s house one sunny afternoon. She was free flying around the rooms. Bob apologized for the shape the house was in and told me his cleaning woman had stopped her service because Tweetie kept landing on her shoulder while she was vacuuming. I would have quit too! I told him Josephine’s wings were clipped and that was what Tweetie needed. I didn’t convince him, but when Tweetie escaped to the great out-doors and was lost for a few days, he came to realize the important safety factor in wing clips.

The first time Josephine met Bob, she was very excited. She talked more than I have ever heard her talk….all of it mumbled and spoken softly. I think Bob reminded her of the husband of her former owner. She went to him immediately. Josephine is such a little flirt when she wants to be. She can also be a vicious biter if she feels threatened or doesn’t know a person.

Tweetie on the other hand likes everyone, except me. When Tweetie gives me the evil stare and she does it frequently, I can read jealousy flashing in those bright black eyes. After all, I am the other woman in Bob’s life and I doubt that she will ever forgive me for coming in and upsetting their serene life together. I am sure she also holds me responsible for the hated wing clips.

Josephine is a whistler and loves to show off her telephone ring, the fire alarm blast, and still mimics the playground whistle of years past. Josephine has a beautiful wolf whistle which she uses often, particularly when she is enjoying her outside cage. This has caused some embarrassment. Once I found myself apologizing to a male neighbor who couldn’t see Josephine’s cage and thought I was whistling at him. She will greet you with “hello” and will dance her heart out, if someone will sing “Come Josephine in my Flying Machine” or “Little Brown Jug.”

Tweetie has a large vocabulary and knows the time of day remarkably well. She greets us in the morning with “Hi Girls”. She says, “Apple, Orange, and fix salad” at mealtimes. If she is feeling ignored or not getting what she wants, she calls out in a voice of which a shrew would be proud, “Bob, oh Bob” until she gets what she wants. Around the latter part of the afternoon, she will remind him that it is time to fix a drink. We hear, “Happy Boy Bob, fix drink!” At bedtime she will say “Nighty night” and then ask for “Poo Poo Paper “ before settling down for sleep.

The birds are excellent travelers and accompany us in the RV. They are our little ambassadors. People love to stop and look at them and visit with us. Lots of them have birds of their own and we swap stories and enjoy their company. Of course the birds show off for everyone. They love all the extra attention. If folks walk by without paying attention to them, we will hear Tweetie’s “Hi Girls” or Josephine’s sexy little wolf whistle luring them over to our campsite.

They are wonderful companions. We love them dearly and are grateful for the important role they played in our courtship and the daily antics that bring a smile to our faces. Click play to start the video of their dancing to my off-key version of Little Brown Jug. For video of Tweetie talking visit Bob’s site. She will say “Bad Bird!”, clear her throat a lot….Bob had a cold and she loves to mimic, “Wanta Orange? and “Wanta Apple?”. Like all birds, she only speaks when she wants to and only says what she wants to say at that moment.