Knock me down with a feather (plucked from Mr. ‘Crazy’ Parrot’s bottom!)

I was sitting with the tall person yesterday evening, reading the comments people had posted on the blog and writing replies. It is like a conversation with friends and is one of my favourite times of the day. Anyway, we both stopped at one comment and looked at each other. It was from a blogger called East Bay Writer who describes herself as a child of the early seventies and eighties – wow, that was a long childhood! East Bay Writer is a new visitor to Bassa’s Blog and she said that she had recently been tagged with two awards and was passing one on to Bassa’s Blog.

You could have knocked me down with a feather! This is a phrase that the tall person taught me and it means that you are so surprised by something that you could be knocked over by something as light as a feather. Since he taught me that phrase I realise that I have been knocked over by feathers so many times since I started writing this blog. I hope Mr. ‘Crazy’ Parrot doesn’t read this because he has lots of feathers and might think I am a pushover!

The award is the Stylish Blogger Award and I immediately attributed this to my shiny coat and big fluffy tail but the tall person said it was more to do with the content of Bassa’s Blog. Okay tall person, you believe that if you want.

I take this opportunity to thank East Bay Writer for giving Bassa’s Blog this fantastic award. She is a great writer and I am sure you would enjoy reading her blog. This is a link to the post she wrote when she accepted her awards. Her seven random facts about herself are warm, witty and heartfelt and I am sure you will want to read more of her blog:

Thank you East Bay Writer!

My hills are alive with the sound of music

The sick little person slept through the night but the tall person didn’t and neither did I. We were both woken up at 4.30 a.m. by the sound of music and I don’t mean the Julie Andrews movie. After a while the music stopped and I laid down again but a couple of minutes later I heard it again. I got up to investigate and so did the tall person. We met in the hall but I didn’t get too close. I always give him a wide berth when he first gets up because his eyes are half closed and he doesn’t walk in a straight line. Anyway, we followed the sound to the kitchen and found the little person’s phone vibrating and flashing and singing loudly on the kitchen table. The tall person picked it up, pressed some buttons and the phone stopped singing.

I went to the toy room balcony to watch the dawn and the tall person made himself some strong coffee. I could hear him muttering to himself. I don’t think he likes the little person’s singing phone.

Apparently, the little person had set the alarm on his phone but when the tall person later questioned him about it he had no recollection.

Hmm, if you can’t control your singing phone little person I may have to make some adjustments to it – do you remember how I re-engineered the TV remote?