Baby woodpeckers cheep a lot. Like, a lot.
Jun. 6th, 2023 08:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
resoluteBaby woodpeckers are LOUD.
We can't see them yet (eventually they will start peeking out of the nest, but they are not old enough for that) but, oh my GOODNESS, we can hear them.
Today I took down a tree branch that was going to get too close to the power line. (It was not near the power line yet, please don't reprimand me or lecture me about power line safety.) This required getting out the pole saw, finding the blade, find the nut that would attach the blade, giving up on that and finding ANY nut that would attach the blade, stealing a nut from a set of metal shelving (that shelf still has seven nuts and bolt holding it up, it's fine,) and then, you know, trying to saw a thing about sixteen feet or so off the ground. I'm just glad I didn't have to get up on a ladder and then make the attempt. It actually worked pretty well! I had to keep taking breaks because, well, tracheostomy and breathing challenges. But it was fine until the branch started to come loose and then the inevitable "saw is now stuck in the gap" situation happened. I worked it free and managed to cut the last bit. The branch ... did not fall. Rather, it rested on the branches underneath it.
Ten minutes later, I had yanked on it enough with the hook attachment on the saw and I could reach it, and pulled it down. The spouse and I cut it up and stacked the smaller branches on the brush pile, the one between the pussy willow and the plum tree. (The plum tree was supposed to be dead, we had it removed a few years back. But of course we left a large stump for the wildlife, and it has a LOT of branches now. Some of which, in fact, need to be cut back because they are getting close to the power line ...) It was quite a bit of work but I am glad it is done.
Today the spouse asked me if I'd eaten any quail eggs. I said no, because I hadn't. Then the part of my brain that reviews the last one-to-three exchanges in any conversation to check for weirdness, lack of comprehension, the detectable emotional content the other party might be sending, whether or not I have an appropriate facial expression and vocal tone, you know, all the things everyone is constantly monitoring at all times, right? ANYWAY, I reviewed the transcript and detected a note of confusion at my response. I made a quick guess, based on context and pattern matching with previous conversation, and said "I did boil some and put them in the fridge for later, though."
I had guessed correctly! Her initial question was NOT actually had I EATEN any eggs, but rather, that she had thought there were more eggs in the bowl when she had brought in today's new ones, and was wondering what had happened to them because she had not noticed anyone cooking.
I love this woman, we have been together since 1997, we have adult children we raised together, I tell her all the things that matter to me and a lot of things that are trivial, and conversing with this person who I know better than anyone else in the world still has these moments of slip, of friction, of missing the step. I am pretty decent at pattern matching, I am pretty decent at conversations with social rules, but still sometimes I deliver an incorrect or incomplete response.
I have noticed that people do not like knowing they are being fed a script, or being pattern-matched, or fulfilling a role in a social scenario. People do not like knowing that their responses are being shunted into categories in microseconds and then they receive a pre-written response from that category script. People want to individuals, not roles.
When I use pattern-matching and scripts, it works until it doesn't and then things get very awkward. When I do NOT use pattern-matching and scripts, well, everyone starts asking me what's wrong, am I angry, and why am I being hurtful.
Communication is so goddamn difficult.
I wonder, every time I go outside at the moment, what the baby woodpeckers are yelling about. Hunger, is my guess, but how could I possibly know?
We can't see them yet (eventually they will start peeking out of the nest, but they are not old enough for that) but, oh my GOODNESS, we can hear them.
Today I took down a tree branch that was going to get too close to the power line. (It was not near the power line yet, please don't reprimand me or lecture me about power line safety.) This required getting out the pole saw, finding the blade, find the nut that would attach the blade, giving up on that and finding ANY nut that would attach the blade, stealing a nut from a set of metal shelving (that shelf still has seven nuts and bolt holding it up, it's fine,) and then, you know, trying to saw a thing about sixteen feet or so off the ground. I'm just glad I didn't have to get up on a ladder and then make the attempt. It actually worked pretty well! I had to keep taking breaks because, well, tracheostomy and breathing challenges. But it was fine until the branch started to come loose and then the inevitable "saw is now stuck in the gap" situation happened. I worked it free and managed to cut the last bit. The branch ... did not fall. Rather, it rested on the branches underneath it.
Ten minutes later, I had yanked on it enough with the hook attachment on the saw and I could reach it, and pulled it down. The spouse and I cut it up and stacked the smaller branches on the brush pile, the one between the pussy willow and the plum tree. (The plum tree was supposed to be dead, we had it removed a few years back. But of course we left a large stump for the wildlife, and it has a LOT of branches now. Some of which, in fact, need to be cut back because they are getting close to the power line ...) It was quite a bit of work but I am glad it is done.
Today the spouse asked me if I'd eaten any quail eggs. I said no, because I hadn't. Then the part of my brain that reviews the last one-to-three exchanges in any conversation to check for weirdness, lack of comprehension, the detectable emotional content the other party might be sending, whether or not I have an appropriate facial expression and vocal tone, you know, all the things everyone is constantly monitoring at all times, right? ANYWAY, I reviewed the transcript and detected a note of confusion at my response. I made a quick guess, based on context and pattern matching with previous conversation, and said "I did boil some and put them in the fridge for later, though."
I had guessed correctly! Her initial question was NOT actually had I EATEN any eggs, but rather, that she had thought there were more eggs in the bowl when she had brought in today's new ones, and was wondering what had happened to them because she had not noticed anyone cooking.
I love this woman, we have been together since 1997, we have adult children we raised together, I tell her all the things that matter to me and a lot of things that are trivial, and conversing with this person who I know better than anyone else in the world still has these moments of slip, of friction, of missing the step. I am pretty decent at pattern matching, I am pretty decent at conversations with social rules, but still sometimes I deliver an incorrect or incomplete response.
I have noticed that people do not like knowing they are being fed a script, or being pattern-matched, or fulfilling a role in a social scenario. People do not like knowing that their responses are being shunted into categories in microseconds and then they receive a pre-written response from that category script. People want to individuals, not roles.
When I use pattern-matching and scripts, it works until it doesn't and then things get very awkward. When I do NOT use pattern-matching and scripts, well, everyone starts asking me what's wrong, am I angry, and why am I being hurtful.
Communication is so goddamn difficult.
I wonder, every time I go outside at the moment, what the baby woodpeckers are yelling about. Hunger, is my guess, but how could I possibly know?
no subject
Date: 2023-06-24 10:42 pm (UTC)An old maple served as infant homes for several generations of woodpeckers.
HOW CAN SUCH TINY LITTLE THINGS MAKE SO MUCH NOISE?
Tree rotted, narrowly missing crashing through a picture window, and was neatly dispatched. Now I can hear the rest of the street.