Whatever they be, they be rather special, and we have four of them in our garden at the moment. (No, I don't know why I'm talking like
I went out to the clothesline a few days ago and heard that distinctive vroom vroom noise. I put down my laundry basket and looked around, not really expecting to see one as they're notoriously difficult to spot, spending their days sitting stock still, pretending to be a bit of branch. But I saw one, then spied another in the next tree, and then a third - a juvenile - in the branch above. I talked to them for a minute or two and then reached up to pull a bedsheet off the line and jumped back in fright as there was this little baby sitting on the fence a foot or so behind where the sheet had been hanging, gazing solemnly at me.
He gave me a quizzical look as if to say, I'm a poor wee babe who mistook a fence for a branch and hey now you're here ...
... give me something to eat?
I called the children and, Son #2, who you may remember is something of a junior Dr Doolittle, obliged. (Do follow that link for some lovely shots of a koala, taken by Son #2 at extremely close range).
It looks like a muppet in this shot, don't you think?
We raided the worm farm and that wee bird gulped down at least half a dozen worms.
After a few minutes one of the adult birds vroomed again so we popped the little fella back on the fence to guard the laundry again.
(I excitedly told a friend who rushed over the next day to commune with the frogmouths herself, but of course the two babies went awol [ha, pun not intended] and the adults stayed up high for the duration of her cup of tea. The minute she left the babies reappeared. Of course).
Moving on but still speaking of wols, remember these?
The very talented and generous Sue sent me one of her owls, and either by clever design or marvellous serendipity, sent me the very one that happened to be my favourite. Thank you so much Sue.
Also speaking of more wols, there's a fabulous new shop in town, owned and run by a lovely friend of mine. If you are fond of all things owlish, do drop in and have a look at The Seventh Owl. Among lots of exquisite things, you might find some very beautiful pinnies and bags made from vintage kimonos, stitched by another clever friend.
In non-owl related news, I updated the soap post to answer some questions that were raised in the comments, and more importantly to update the safety information. Please have another look at it if you are planning on making your own soap.
In further unrelated news, last weekend Son #1 went to the Year 10 formal (like a prom, for the Americans in the audience) wearing a $15 suit from the op shop, an op shop shirt, his father's tie and shoes. He looked very handsome yet slightly uncomfortable and he has forbidden me to mention milestones and time flying etc or upload a photo here or on Flickr. (He didn't mention Facebook, ha).
And Son #3 made a mighty fine Menelaus in The Tale of Troy last night, in his papier mache Spartan helmet and little calico tunic. Thankfully the fight scene between he and Paris was spectacular yet uneventful, unlike a rehearsal during which he gave Paris a black eye and she (yes, Paris is played by a girl in an impressive display of disregard for gender-dictated casting) took a chunk out of his nose. I forgot to take my camera to the class play so will be relying on other parents' uploads to Facebook, or we'll have to dress him up again and re-enact the crucial scenes in the backyard. That'll freak out the tawny frogmouths.