tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34246214.post1491329193130808176..comments2024-02-23T02:48:33.276-06:00Comments on BABSBLOG: Birding in San Miguel de Allende, MexicoBabshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16609157345912932083noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34246214.post-86042475241381848802012-04-29T11:41:17.593-05:002012-04-29T11:41:17.593-05:00Lone domesticated parakeets are generally naught ...Lone domesticated parakeets are generally naught but hawk fodder. So unless you've seen a local flock of these little songsters to let this one join, he'll probably be happier singing for his lunch on your top patio rather than being lunch in the pressa. Cute little fella. <br />Besides, if it is domestic, it will need a little time for its feathers to grow out, to allow proper flight. Hanging from the canopy in front of your "Angry" bird wall hanging will also keep it out of Velcro's reach, and allow a swift exit if a friendly flock flits by...<br />Dan in NCDan in NChttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08863090182812197749noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34246214.post-38366233202442741652012-04-28T09:52:55.497-05:002012-04-28T09:52:55.497-05:00What a great story. My grandparents had parakeets...What a great story. My grandparents had parakeets when I was about your age. We lived with them for a while as our house was being built.<br />My grandmother played bridge, and raised violets - lots of violets. When she would leave to go to bridge she would tell my mild-mannered grandfather NOT to let the parakeets out because they would eat her violets. Of course she wasn't gone ten minutes and he would let them all out. I've always had an affinity for parakeets but not enough to want to have one and clean the cage!Babshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16609157345912932083noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34246214.post-30571477887737970592012-04-28T09:23:44.319-05:002012-04-28T09:23:44.319-05:00When I was 13 my family had a white parakeet named...When I was 13 my family had a white parakeet named "Frosty." In those days, women, including my mother, back-combed their hair and Frosty loved to ride around on my mother's head. She couldn't feel him up there and he felt safe in his "nest." Unfortunately one day she opened the front door, forgetting he was on her head. He flew south-to San Miguel--where he founded a little dynasty.Christinehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13527807577952918445noreply@blogger.com