On the perch: Frank, Tea, Goober. Tea was singing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love song, and dancing his Hunka Hunka Burning Love dance, to Goober. Frank was watching so intently that he was actually touching Tea! I don't think I've ever noticed that before.

There are certain sounds I've enjoyed over the years, not because they remind me of a person, or a moment in time, but just because I like the sound. These include frying something in a hot pan, hot air balloons, and orchestras tuning and warming up before a concert.

The Finsters make a lot of sounds that I like, the most obvious are Hunka Hunka Burning Love Songs. But there are less ovbious bird noises that I really love. Two of my favorites are the rustling sounds they make as they move around in or on their nest boxes at night, and the quiet crunching of hulls as they eat seeds.

It's official: at a modest 21 1/2 grams (there are 28 grams in an ounce), Peanut is too light to type on a computer. I guess he'll never write the Great American Bird Novel.

I managed to get a pretty good picture of Frank and Tea sitting on the concrete perch together — even with the big Finsterium door open! The two concrete perches remain popular, although no new birds have ventured on them that I've seen — it's still only Tea, Decaffeinated, Earl Grey, and Frank that spend any real time on them. Even so, you'd think that at least those birds would have nicely-trimmed toenails. No such luck.

This is a top-view plan of Peanut's house.
A The door
B Snacking perch
C Hanging out perch
D Sleepy perch

While Peanut uses the three perches for many activities, they are labelled above with their main use. I feed Peanut breakfast and dinner on perch B, he spends most of his day on perch C, and he sleeps on perch D. Now, during the (usually) several hours of Warm Toasties that Peanut gets each night, I often need to take a break. All groggy from sleeping in my hand, he grumbles a bit, but he's learned that if I try to deposit him on perch C, he knows it isn't bedtime, that I'll come back, and he'll get more glorious Warm Toasties. All is right with the world, and he steps off willingly. And over the years, he's also learned that he's pretty darned spoiled with all those Warm Toasties, and when I try to deposit him on perch D, he realizes it must be bed time, so he steps off pretty willingly, too.

Except for the past few nights, when he's tried to leap from my hand onto perch C, in hopes that he'll be able to avoid that sleepy perch for just a few more Warm Toasties.

Pepper seeds are remarkably tasty. Seeds from green peppers are much tastier than any other color, and not every single green pepper has tasty seeds. But in general, if I offer a pepper, the Finsters all fly down to get some seeds. As far as I can tell, they grab a seed in their beak, move it around a little, and spit it out. It's really hard to tell if they actually eat much, maybe they just taste good? But the Finsters hop on top, pick at the membrane, and flick seeds everywhere. Peanut likes them too, but again, it's hard to say what he's actually eating.

The birds have trained me to eat a lot more peppers than I used to. They aren't my favorite vegetables, but I'm learning to use them more, since those seeds are so darned tasty. Click here to see the pepper core "after."

Peanut loves to fight with Bruce. The main goal seems to be to bite Bruce's fingers, but there's an awful lot of squeaking and yelling that goes on. Sometimes they play with Peanut on my shoulder, with Peanut squeaking and lunging toward Bruce, and Bruce giving the bird "rides" by lifting up my vest with the bird on it. Other times, when Peanut is on the bookshelf or the back of the couch, Peanut will actually run after Bruce's hand to try to bite him. I think it's a guy thing, since Peanut never seems to want to play this game with me.

Do not try this at home unless you are playing with a small bird, like a parrotlet. Bigger birds could do real damage to your fingers.

This morning, Tea and Earl Grey were singing their Hunka Hunka Burning Love songs, and dancing their Hunka Hunka Burning Love dances, to each other, in perfect unison (you thought I was going to say harmony, didn't you). Just now, Tea was singing and dancing to Early Grey, but Frank flew onto the perch between them, and Tea stopped. It's like a soap opera in my kitchen.

Since Peanut is a member of the National Audubon Society, we just got this message:

If you have 15 minutes, a window and access to computer next weekend, you can help protect America's birds and habitat by participating in the Sixth Annual Great Backyard Bird Count, brought to you by Audubon and the Cornell Lab of Ornithology!

All across America, our birds face survival challenges from loss of habitat to introduced predators, to diseases like the West Nile Virus. This may be affecting the birds that visit your backyard each and every year. Help us find out! Between February 14-17th, keep an eye on your backyard or birdfeeder for 15 minutes or more. Then count and identify the birds you see, and report back to Audubon via the Internet. No experience necessary — all ages and skill levels are welcome and encouraged to participate — and it's free! To enter this year's Count, view tips on identifying birds in your area, and much, much more, log onto our special website at http://www.birdsource.org/gbbc

Decaffeinated is usually just as calm as Darjeeling is when I open the Finsterium door to take pictures. But usually, I see what is depicted in the two photos below: wary birds on their way out of boxes, ready to fly away. That's Earl Grey on the left, and Goober on the right.

Of all the Societies, Darjeeling is the one most likely to sit in a box during the day. She's often alone, it's almost always the same box all the Societies sleep in at night, and she's always watching me. Not that I'm paranoid. I watch the birds, they watch me, and if they're in boxes (which is frequent enough), they often start climbing out. A wise move for a prey animal. But Darjeeling isn't much bothered by me. The door to the Finsterium was wide open when I took this picture, and she never moved.
Click here for a close-up.