02 October 2013
712
R. Linda:
The subject of budgies came up after me last story, and suppressed memories surfaced that I wish had not, but alas, they did despite me trying to bury them. I told Tonya about the African Grey Parrot, and we were laughing. She told me her mother considered parakeets (the smaller version of a parrot) dirty and would not allow one in the house. Yet, the Dragon-in-law grew up with canaries. Who knew? Tonya suspected that once the novelty of having a bird wore off, the cleaning of the cage would fall to her mother and therein was the crux of the matter.
I (rather cavalierly) let it out that me sister Sheila had a parakeet all her life. Yes, she did.
"What do you mean all her life, they only live so many years," Tonya questioned.
"Uh . . . well, she thinks they have quite a long life span because . . . well . . . " I stammered, remembering what I didn't want to.
"Well, what?"
"Uh . . . you see . . . me Mam thought . . . uh . . . " I drifted off.
"Come on, spill, Gabe," Tonya urged.
"Oh, all right! Me sister got her first 'keet' as she called them, when she was seven and I was five. She had this birdie named Lester until she was 16, and something strange occurred."
"And . . . " Tonya said, egging me on.
"Uh . . . well, Lester was a green parakeet, and as always happens with children at that young age, the responsibility of caring for the bird sort of dropped off. Me Mam had to do the dirty work of cleaning cage, feeding, watering, she even talked to it while she cleaned or ironed clothing." I said and shut up.
"Go on! There's got to be more."
"Oh okay, so three years down the road, me Mam came down to start breakfast, and as she waited for the toast and tea kettle to do their thing, she uncovered the cage and . . . . well, she noticed Lester was dead on the bottom. So she quickly covered it so Sheila wouldn't see. Now, me sister, even though she wasn't taking care of the budgie, was very attached to anything that was personally considered hers. So Mam knew there would be an emotional overload of crying and guilt and so was ahead of the game, thinking about what she could do to prevent the meltdown she knew would result at Lester's untimely passing.
When Sheila came down, she went to uncover the cage, but Mam told her some silly thing like Lester was sleeping in late, and she'd get to him after we left for school and Da left for work. This satisfied Sheila, and off we went. While at school, Mam went to the pet store and bought the first of several green parakeets. This one was smaller than the late departed Lester, and me sissy did notice.
"Well, since ye haven't been caring for him, he has dropped some weight he has from pinnin' away fur ya," Mam explained it away; yes, she did, and Sheila, not being too bright in my opinion, shrugged, and that was that.
In time, the new Lester became as big as the late departed Lester, and Sheila made an observation to Mam about the fact he wasn't pinning for her anymore.
"Oh, dats because I sing tunes wit hisself." Me Mam said, and there was truth in this, while she did her housecleaning, Lester number 2 would chirp along as he grew into an adult bird. But four years later, Lester 2 dropped to the bottom of his cage, and the same thing happened. Mam kept the cage covered and such. Well, we had six Lesters in total until the seventh. By that time, parakeets weren't being sold as they were not in demand as pets, so Mam had come upon a real problem.
Sheila, after two days of the cage covered, uncovered it and saw Lester the VI dead on the cage floor and oh my G! You would have thought the world ended. Now Mam had gone out to scour the city for a replacement Lester, and she had found one! But she was too late, me sissy had come home from school (an after-school class cancelled) to find the dead Lester the VI deader than a doorknob.
Me Mam could hear the wailing as she came up the back stairs, and she knew from peeking in the window what had happened. She stuck the new budgie on the porch in its box and went inside to console the near inconsolable Sheila. I came in about that time and, being a hawk-eye type, spied the box, which was making squawking sounds and moving on the shelf in the enclosed porch. Before I could touch it Mam was pulling me in, telling me to console me sissy, that she was taking Lester out to the porch to see if she could revive him. By eye communication, I knew what she was about. She knew I knew. I might have been flabbergasted at such deceit, but Sheila's carrying on was enough for me to become completely complicit in Mam's subterfuge.
Well, I will say when Mam brought the cage in both Sheila and I stopped any form of speech as we looked at the white parakeet in the cage. All the Lester's had been GREEN so how to explain this WHITE Lester? I should never question such things, as Mam had a story at the ready, and this was it:
"Well noe, willya luke at dat!" Says she holding the cage. "Lester has coom back ta us as an angel."
Sheila oohed and ahhed while I stood there, me eyes bugging out of me disbelieving head. How was it I knew that wasn't Lester, but me silly sissy thought it was? Well, as ye can imagine, this was the last Lester of the line.
Today me sissy will tell you she knew all along, but I remember an evening that me parents were out, and she, her future husband, the Dolan person, and meself, had got hold a bottle of Jameson. We were taking shots of the strong stuff, not used to it and the effect was . . . well, we were quite a bit in our cups we were. Me loose tongue got the better of me after Sheila (none too sober herself) had been making fun of me and me choices in girlfriends. I liked them fat, and if they could play footy more the better. I was very into a heavy-set girl named Meghan, who was the goalie on our school team. I got hot under the collar, being told I had taste in me arse and what I'd look like if Meghan ever sat on me. When Sheila wouldn't stop saying how stupid I was, I had to call her out, and you know how I did it. Yes, I did. I mentioned the green parade of Lesters, oh yes, and the final angel Lester and oh my, how she went berserk. She had no clue and was mad at me, me Mam (in particular) and me Da for never setting her straight and letting her go all those years believing parakeets had a life span of 9 years or more! No wonder she flunked biology. I tell ya.
Thought I'd share that with ya. It sort of cheered me up when I remembered how awful Sheila was about me goalie girlfriend.
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
The subject of budgies came up after me last story, and suppressed memories surfaced that I wish had not, but alas, they did despite me trying to bury them. I told Tonya about the African Grey Parrot, and we were laughing. She told me her mother considered parakeets (the smaller version of a parrot) dirty and would not allow one in the house. Yet, the Dragon-in-law grew up with canaries. Who knew? Tonya suspected that once the novelty of having a bird wore off, the cleaning of the cage would fall to her mother and therein was the crux of the matter.
I (rather cavalierly) let it out that me sister Sheila had a parakeet all her life. Yes, she did.
"What do you mean all her life, they only live so many years," Tonya questioned.
"Uh . . . well, she thinks they have quite a long life span because . . . well . . . " I stammered, remembering what I didn't want to.
"Well, what?"
"Uh . . . you see . . . me Mam thought . . . uh . . . " I drifted off.
"Come on, spill, Gabe," Tonya urged.
"Oh, all right! Me sister got her first 'keet' as she called them, when she was seven and I was five. She had this birdie named Lester until she was 16, and something strange occurred."
"And . . . " Tonya said, egging me on.
"Uh . . . well, Lester was a green parakeet, and as always happens with children at that young age, the responsibility of caring for the bird sort of dropped off. Me Mam had to do the dirty work of cleaning cage, feeding, watering, she even talked to it while she cleaned or ironed clothing." I said and shut up.
"Go on! There's got to be more."
"Oh okay, so three years down the road, me Mam came down to start breakfast, and as she waited for the toast and tea kettle to do their thing, she uncovered the cage and . . . . well, she noticed Lester was dead on the bottom. So she quickly covered it so Sheila wouldn't see. Now, me sister, even though she wasn't taking care of the budgie, was very attached to anything that was personally considered hers. So Mam knew there would be an emotional overload of crying and guilt and so was ahead of the game, thinking about what she could do to prevent the meltdown she knew would result at Lester's untimely passing.
When Sheila came down, she went to uncover the cage, but Mam told her some silly thing like Lester was sleeping in late, and she'd get to him after we left for school and Da left for work. This satisfied Sheila, and off we went. While at school, Mam went to the pet store and bought the first of several green parakeets. This one was smaller than the late departed Lester, and me sissy did notice.
"Well, since ye haven't been caring for him, he has dropped some weight he has from pinnin' away fur ya," Mam explained it away; yes, she did, and Sheila, not being too bright in my opinion, shrugged, and that was that.
In time, the new Lester became as big as the late departed Lester, and Sheila made an observation to Mam about the fact he wasn't pinning for her anymore.
"Oh, dats because I sing tunes wit hisself." Me Mam said, and there was truth in this, while she did her housecleaning, Lester number 2 would chirp along as he grew into an adult bird. But four years later, Lester 2 dropped to the bottom of his cage, and the same thing happened. Mam kept the cage covered and such. Well, we had six Lesters in total until the seventh. By that time, parakeets weren't being sold as they were not in demand as pets, so Mam had come upon a real problem.
Sheila, after two days of the cage covered, uncovered it and saw Lester the VI dead on the cage floor and oh my G! You would have thought the world ended. Now Mam had gone out to scour the city for a replacement Lester, and she had found one! But she was too late, me sissy had come home from school (an after-school class cancelled) to find the dead Lester the VI deader than a doorknob.
Me Mam could hear the wailing as she came up the back stairs, and she knew from peeking in the window what had happened. She stuck the new budgie on the porch in its box and went inside to console the near inconsolable Sheila. I came in about that time and, being a hawk-eye type, spied the box, which was making squawking sounds and moving on the shelf in the enclosed porch. Before I could touch it Mam was pulling me in, telling me to console me sissy, that she was taking Lester out to the porch to see if she could revive him. By eye communication, I knew what she was about. She knew I knew. I might have been flabbergasted at such deceit, but Sheila's carrying on was enough for me to become completely complicit in Mam's subterfuge.
Well, I will say when Mam brought the cage in both Sheila and I stopped any form of speech as we looked at the white parakeet in the cage. All the Lester's had been GREEN so how to explain this WHITE Lester? I should never question such things, as Mam had a story at the ready, and this was it:
"Well noe, willya luke at dat!" Says she holding the cage. "Lester has coom back ta us as an angel."
Sheila oohed and ahhed while I stood there, me eyes bugging out of me disbelieving head. How was it I knew that wasn't Lester, but me silly sissy thought it was? Well, as ye can imagine, this was the last Lester of the line.
Today me sissy will tell you she knew all along, but I remember an evening that me parents were out, and she, her future husband, the Dolan person, and meself, had got hold a bottle of Jameson. We were taking shots of the strong stuff, not used to it and the effect was . . . well, we were quite a bit in our cups we were. Me loose tongue got the better of me after Sheila (none too sober herself) had been making fun of me and me choices in girlfriends. I liked them fat, and if they could play footy more the better. I was very into a heavy-set girl named Meghan, who was the goalie on our school team. I got hot under the collar, being told I had taste in me arse and what I'd look like if Meghan ever sat on me. When Sheila wouldn't stop saying how stupid I was, I had to call her out, and you know how I did it. Yes, I did. I mentioned the green parade of Lesters, oh yes, and the final angel Lester and oh my, how she went berserk. She had no clue and was mad at me, me Mam (in particular) and me Da for never setting her straight and letting her go all those years believing parakeets had a life span of 9 years or more! No wonder she flunked biology. I tell ya.
Thought I'd share that with ya. It sort of cheered me up when I remembered how awful Sheila was about me goalie girlfriend.
Gabe
Copyright © 2013 All rights reserved
