F 1 D 0 - 2003 06 14 at 1215 The Small Crow. It was yesterday, or the day before, where I saw myself being watched, very calmly, by a crow. It was standing on the corner of High Street and Oliver, the Northeast corner. There is a small parkette there. It is a strange intersection, improved by designers, perhaps. They may have called this intersection Five Corners a few years ago, because it is where Crown Street meets High Street. It is where John Street continues Westbound, and Oliver Street begins, perhaps in a West but Southwest kind of way. It is this intersection has Kanga's Sauna and Restaurant, a place where you can relax for half an hour with warm heat, and then relax with coffee or sweets (or whatever, actually). Maybe it's a Thunder Bay kind of thing. To straighten out traffic, John Street is One Way from High Street. And there is a small spur of John Street which remains as an access route to Crown. The parkette is bound on three sides by High St, John St Spur, and Oliver Road. And standing there, like it is waiting for the light to change, is a crow. There are a lot of crows here with huge black beaks. Not this one. It had a normal looking yellowish beak. And many have such dark eyes, you cannot see the pupil or where in particular it is looking. Again, not this one. It had clear blue eyes. They reminded me of the kind of blue eyes some Huskies (dogs) have. I'm hardly an expert. This one looked small to me. But that is because we have such big ones here. I rode my bike right past it. Only a foot from it. It just watched. I got off my bike, and approached it. It flew away, but not hard, not far. Just out of my reach. This crow wasn't the only one on the corner. The sky was full of them. They were loud, and calling the alarm sound. At some point I realized the cause for concern was *me*. I was the enemy. Two of the crows were special. They made extra noise, and kept flying toward me. When they didn't charge at me, they remained on a wire, cawing Nonstop to the rest of them. I was rather insensitive to a lot of this, and was really thinking about taking this birdie in. As you know, I've been wanting a pet crow for a long, long time. They're smart, they're loyal, they talk, and from all I've read, they make the most wonderful pet birds. I had no cage, no canvas bag, no towel (with which to wrap it up gently), nothing at all. In fact, all I wanted right now was to visit with it, to look at it in the eyes, and just be there. Funny. It seemed happy with this. As long as I wasn't trying to pet it, it was happy to remain six inches from my nose. Each time I reached for it, it would move away somehow. It would fly a bit, or walk a bit. Not far, not in a panic. Just mildly out of my reach. I rode home. I have a huge box of croutons I cannot stand there. I got them from the warehouse store for 3.00 thinking they were a bargain. I think someone spilled soap of some sort onto the box. The effect? The entire contents actually smells strong of a soap, and I think I can taste it each time I munch one, just to remind myself why I've not used them. I took a small bag of them with me, and a single serve yogourt container. A bottle of water too. I occurred to me that this bird might be hurt. Why else would it act this way? In wild conditions, a bird and most other animals hide their pain as best they can. Doing otherwise makes them lunch for the first predator, who will exhaust the weakest one. So I laid the bag of crumbs and the container into the middle of the wooded parkette. I was wondering whether the bird was hungry, but it didn't make a wild dash for my cache of treats. I offered some by hand to it. It checked me out. I mean that. It didn't taste any of them, but it ran its beak inside my hand. I probably should have offered something nicer, instead of the old croutons, huh? When I went back (above) the crowd of crows became just a few. Still my two security crows, shouting the whole time, and another couple nearby, flying in circles around me, or resting on the buildings nearby. I went back to check on the little guy. I've not found him. The two security birds remain. They continue to shout when they see me riding up. But I wasn't able to locate the hiding place of the crow I've been visiting. Oh well. - - Today. I got a call from Ann last night, shortly after falling asleep. I was groggy and sleepy from the dance, and all of the bike riding, so I went to bed earlier than our usual at home. But after the call, now I was alert. I kept wondering if I should get up and start the day at 3am. I fought it. But I didn't actually get back asleep until I saw some light outside. And then I kept waking up after dreams. The dreams weren't important, and reminded me of life, twisted. I cannot remember all of them now, because if I could, I'd retell them to you. But they weren't painful. I do remember this one. I was at some kind of reception. In addition to the usual things we find at a party, word had gotten out that I'm fond of hamburgers, cheeseburgers, and the like. And so the man with the chef's hat brings out a big bowl of cheeseburgers and hamburgers. They looked very good. Mark this point. I wanted to get one, but it wasn't time to eat. But these were just for me, and anyone else who would like them. They were on my mind for the remainder of the dream. I was called away for a technical problem. I cannot recall now what it was. Computer? Sound? Video? There was an announcement and I had to find my way through a VERY big centre to a communications room to meet with someone. (on my mind, hamburgers) I meet with other technical folk. To describe it now it feels bogus, but in the dream, it was important and felt scientific. Describing it would sound like Star Trek stuff. (still on my mind, the hamburgers) I finished successfully. It was working, and looked stable. Time to find my way back. And here's the problem. I spent the remainder of the dream trying to get back. I was hopelessly lost, and woke up before I got back to the reception. Now I was AWAKE, and there were hamburgers on my mind. As a rule, I wake up feeling full, and disinterested in food until lunch time. And one more thing. I woke up. That was at 930am (and 830am, and 7am too). I woke up DIZZY. This worried me at the time, and worries me a bit now. No other ill effects. Just dizzy. Not too dizzy, just the world spinning when it should be solid. My ears don't feel blocked. I don't feel pressure, nor a lot of junk in my sinuses. I feel fine, in fact. Just Dizzy. Wondering if I blew a fuse during sleep, I've taken an ibuprofen and an aspirin, thinking if clots are the problem, then an aspirin is a good answer. I've done a couple of loads of laundry hoping my head will clear. Then I'll dig in and do something. I could go back to the Thunder Bay Children's Festival. I went yesterday. It wasn't bad. Oh, children, yes, there were many kids there! But they were kept in military units by their teachers. And surprise! Most of the kids present (more than 90%) were french speaking. The band CHOU who were on the stage when I went were very good, but kept spoiling otherwise good music with nonstop attempts to make people shout, stomp and clap. Accordion, guitar, mandolin, elec bass and drum kit. They played traditional stuff. Dance music, fiddle music. Alphabet songs. So hearing the program in Mostly French, with just marginal translation to english, was an interesting touch for me. Which reminds me: Do any of you Fracophones reading this know how to say "charlie-horse" in French? I've just telephoned an old friend/customer in Toronto asking in him on Voicemail this very question. I was talking with my next door neighbour, and we just couldn't figure it out. Write me if you know. Thanks. "For your own safety, please do not bother the yellow jackets flying in and out of the trash basket." -- Matt Groening That's all I know. I like the the effect of the light in the venetian blind.