Aspies For Freedom

......I can not go for walks.
......I can not go for walks.
Why ???????????????????
......I can not go................
Why???????????????????

...For when I go...............
What ??????????????????

...............There are Rocks

Rocks

Rocks ..............................
Rocks ?????????????????
Rocks!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!

My pockets fill with Rocks.

:groupjump:  :groupjump:  :groupjump:  :groupjump:  :groupjump:  :groupjump:  :groupjump:  :groupjump:  :groupjump:  :groupjump:

Cool! Rocks rock!

you just gave me an idea for my new signature line....
another REM line.  :grin:

Sorry to tangentialize your rhyme, lfaish.  I like rocks, too, and even more so I like bits of glazed ceramic like broken tiles etc.  I have sandy pockets sometimes from this habit.

I pick up interesting things on walks like coloured pieces of glass, buttons, stones, bits of crockery and seeds. Could this be an Aspie thing????

I used to like doing that, and looking through bits of cellophane.

Anybody remember the "thingfinders" hobby in Pippi Longstocking?

I think Pippi might be out of print but perhaps the local library might have some of the books. I used to read them years ago but don't remember much about the stories, sadly to say.

Pippi Longstocking was the daughter of a Pirate and she lived by herself in a big old house with some strange pets (I want to say a parrot or a monkey, and a horse) and she had some normal kid friends and she tried to do normal kid things but was always getting them 'wrong' because she had lived wild and free all her life and did things in funny ways.  
(how could I not love this, when I was an aspie raised by hippie aspies?!)

And so one time she was showing her friends how if you walk along looking at the ground you will find some pretty amazing stuff.  And I think they all became "Thingfinders" that day and they made a collection inside a hollow tree of all the stuff they found on the ground.

I still do this.  The other day I found an amazingly stimmy metal disk which was black with a silvery shiny interlacing stars pattern in the middle.  

My husband was like "I don't know you" because in his country decent people do not pick up stuff off the ground, brush it off and put it in their pockets.  
But he can live with my dumpster-diving self and I can live with his strange urges to buy quality clothes in the real store and wear them a long time, instead of my way which is buying in the second-hand store whenever I feel like it.


sorry for tangents.

bowerbirds = magpies?

Magpies are pied crows and like crows, are carnivores. My stepdad has a hate on for magpies as they ate all the baby birds he was watching a pair of honeyeaters raise in a nest on the clothesline outside his and mum's back door.

oh, wow... ok I do remember hearing of those...

There's a lot of them in Melbourne, as well as black crows. We also have them up here in North Queensland but I think they tend to prefer a cooler climate.

Magpies are my one phobia. I was really badly swooped when I was 3 or 4 and freaked right out. It is my earliest memory. Whenever I see magpies I get really wound up and start to freak out. This becomes full blown if they start to swoop and I am no longer in control of what I say do or where I run to "escape".
Funny snakes no problem, same with spiders, rats, sharks, etc.
Magpies give me a fear that doesn't compare with pretty much anything else. If their is a Hell for me, it is swooping season 24/7 with no shelter, no escape and no reprieve - LOL

Yes, and I even knew of a talking crow when I was a child. The cheeky thing used to perch on powerlines and call out "what's your name" in a deep, manly voice. I was taught never to speak to strange men and what's more couldn't see anybody when I looked all around. Then I saw this big black crow on the powerlines.

He also used to fly into our classrooms and ask people what their name was. The teachers would have to get one of the boys to catch him and take him outside as he was a major distraction. He was owned by a local cabbie.

I never knew crows could talk. Maybe the odd magpie could learn to talk too?