Islandgirl (looking incredulous): "Gial, do you know you have a BLACK BUD in your house?
Me: "I know its a bird but I didn't know its a BLACK BUD!"
Islandgirl: "Oh Lawd help you now, Thats a BLAACK BUD your luck has changed!'"
ME : Blaack BUD!... this gringo won't know what we are talking about if you talk about this poor little bird in raw creole like that.
(gringo -anybody not from here)
The gingo I am referring to is my friend PRINCE, the German who has his little kingdom on the North side of Caye Caulker & is sitting on the couch with mi sis Miss D fresh in from First World, wondering what the hell we are laughing at.
Islandgirl: "No, if you know anything about a BLACK BUD, you would know that they don't even warrant enough respect to be called a BIRD!
They are BAD LUCK girl ---- Baaaaaaaad, BAD Luck!
Didn't you learn that from your creole relatives?"
ME: "Why the hell didn't you tell me that earlier. I am superstitious. "
Islandgirl was beginning to scare me. I've had nothing but bad luck since I took this Bud in. My plans to party this weekend before I leave the island for the summer fell flat in my face & I wasn't happy. Prince caused Miss D to let me down and I'm going to guilt-trip her on this blog cause I know she reads it. Then some other things happened much worse than missing a fun weekend, nothing for anybody to be alarmed about, part curse perhaps/a bigger part stupidy. It gets expensive when I try to cheer myself up.
Islandgirl: "How the hell you end up with that cursed BUD anyway?"
I had asked CUZ to cut down the coconuts on the top of the tall coconut tree in the hostel yard two days ago. The damn thing was loaded with missile like ripe coconuts and they were falling nearly missing some of the guests. In the process this little bird's nest got disturbed and he was abandoned so we are trying to keep it alive.
Bread & Milk has been the diet for BLACK BUD the last couple of days & he seems to be thriving on it.
I've had several near heart attacks too. Every time I pass by BLACK BUD, the damn thing springs like a pop-up-jack-in-the-box, from its nest of weeds, with its beak wide open begging for food. He's got me as jumpy as a virgin at a prison rodeo.
He eats & poops all day long & I can't keep up. With the exception of T-REX & T-BONE, I haven't mothered anyone or anything since my son moved to Kenya with his father six years ago. I'm clearly out of practice & never had much patience, only for Tyler.
Now, Damien my Personal Assistant has been assigned feeding duty of Black Bud.
He has over-stepped his:
younger cousin/elder wiser cousin
friend/friend who must never be back-chatted
boundaries & scolded me for taking on the responsibilities of raising a bird now and passing the duties on to him. He says he has lots of other things to do in his-never-ending-list-of-responsibilites included in his never-mentioned-exactly job description & un-limited working hours at Tina's Hostel.
I say Black Bud isn't bringing him any good luck either.
Me: "I know its a bird but I didn't know its a BLACK BUD!"
Islandgirl: "Oh Lawd help you now, Thats a BLAACK BUD your luck has changed!'"
ME : Blaack BUD!... this gringo won't know what we are talking about if you talk about this poor little bird in raw creole like that.
(gringo -anybody not from here)
The gingo I am referring to is my friend PRINCE, the German who has his little kingdom on the North side of Caye Caulker & is sitting on the couch with mi sis Miss D fresh in from First World, wondering what the hell we are laughing at.
Islandgirl: "No, if you know anything about a BLACK BUD, you would know that they don't even warrant enough respect to be called a BIRD!
They are BAD LUCK girl ---- Baaaaaaaad, BAD Luck!
Didn't you learn that from your creole relatives?"
ME: "Why the hell didn't you tell me that earlier. I am superstitious. "
Islandgirl was beginning to scare me. I've had nothing but bad luck since I took this Bud in. My plans to party this weekend before I leave the island for the summer fell flat in my face & I wasn't happy. Prince caused Miss D to let me down and I'm going to guilt-trip her on this blog cause I know she reads it. Then some other things happened much worse than missing a fun weekend, nothing for anybody to be alarmed about, part curse perhaps/a bigger part stupidy. It gets expensive when I try to cheer myself up.
Islandgirl: "How the hell you end up with that cursed BUD anyway?"
I had asked CUZ to cut down the coconuts on the top of the tall coconut tree in the hostel yard two days ago. The damn thing was loaded with missile like ripe coconuts and they were falling nearly missing some of the guests. In the process this little bird's nest got disturbed and he was abandoned so we are trying to keep it alive.
Bread & Milk has been the diet for BLACK BUD the last couple of days & he seems to be thriving on it. I've had several near heart attacks too. Every time I pass by BLACK BUD, the damn thing springs like a pop-up-jack-in-the-box, from its nest of weeds, with its beak wide open begging for food. He's got me as jumpy as a virgin at a prison rodeo.
He eats & poops all day long & I can't keep up. With the exception of T-REX & T-BONE, I haven't mothered anyone or anything since my son moved to Kenya with his father six years ago. I'm clearly out of practice & never had much patience, only for Tyler.
Now, Damien my Personal Assistant has been assigned feeding duty of Black Bud.
He has over-stepped his:employee/boss
squatter/slumlordyounger cousin/elder wiser cousin
friend/friend who must never be back-chatted
boundaries & scolded me for taking on the responsibilities of raising a bird now and passing the duties on to him. He says he has lots of other things to do in his-never-ending-list-of-responsibilites included in his never-mentioned-exactly job description & un-limited working hours at Tina's Hostel.
I say Black Bud isn't bringing him any good luck either.
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