Well, thank you, dearest dear super Super-Mods, thank you. I know my ol' man and I get more out of this place than we'd ever be able to give, but we try. It's our henhouse away from home.
Phoe was one of a kind, wasn't he? Terry commissioned a portrait of him before he passed, and we were both so grateful that she did, especially after he left us. Man, he was her BIRD, as the Rb is mine. She honors me by using that painting of Phoe ("immortalized" along with his BFF Jax) for her avatar. See Phoe's attitude in that pose? Plucking aside, he was all conure rooster, and if you ever need a chuckle, just ask Terry to tell a tale of l'il Phoe sauntering around, weilding those little bald toothpick-wings like Arnold Schwarzenegger's biceps as he defended himself, or his buddy, or just made whatever important point was at hand. Wing. WING.
As those of you whose birds I've painted know, I always lay claim to a tiny part of the bird when I portray it. It just happens. So Phoe was part mine, and he always will have a permanent place in the Rickeybird's holiday songbook. As the "Favorite Things" song references, it was around this time of year that he got sick.
I hadn't realized it, but I had really been wanting to talk about Phoe for a bit. That felt good.
I have visions of BB's hiding deep within,not coming out until it came down.
