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 

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.

- -


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.