I. Love. Fly. For you. Postcard

I told her she needed to wait until all the cards were completed. As if she's going to listen to me...

Meet Magnus Prestige

He hates it when people call him a chick: (1) he's not a baby bird and (2) he's not a girl. And his chirp will let you know that in a matter of seconds. It goes so low that if you get him mad enough, he can shake the ground with his screech. Magnus loves historical figures and personalities. Kings, queens, czars, dukes, lords, princesses, sultans, archbishops... you name it, he's probably written a book on it (he's researching Pier Gaveston, Earl of Cornwall, at the moment. I have NO idea who that is. Really.). And he'll let you know that too, because even though he's one of the *smallest* members of the Jolly Troop, his ego is one of the largest. In fact, just take a look at his name and you'll get a sense of how his feathers ruffle in a crowded room of listeners.

A Few New (Postcards) !

We've gone postal. Quite literally. There's something nice about a postcard and there is something even nicer about getting a postcard in your mailbox. A few times a week, we lounge around in our nests — during the early morning hours — and write our favorite friends. It's always good time spent, we think. Of all of us, I think Yvette claims the passion for postcards the most. More than likely she'll have lots to say...

Being Stuffed for STUFFED

Our friend, Janelle, showed us a fun magazine the other day entitled STUFFED. There were loads of picture of plush toys, handmade and designed by creative folks all over the country. The BFBG thought it was a good match for us and decided to *plush* us. He sent us to California to be considered for their publication. We'll see what happens.

And we are definitely going to the manufacturer. Someday soon! We'll act as prototypes and then there will be Jolly Troops members soaring around the world!

*Plush* Al :: A Morning Refrigerator Stowaway

Algernon and I stayed over at the Black Framed Blonde Guy's house last night. This morning, when he opened the refrigerator, BFBG yelled. Now you gotta remember: Algernon loves any (and I mean ANY) green food or green beverage. BFBG had prepared a sun-shiney kind of drink of Limeade with mint leaves and cucumber slices. Al couldn't resist the greeny zing and somehow worked himself onto the top shelf. When he came out, his feathers weren't even cold. How does that work?

Hoodies, Anyone?

Yvette and I threw on these hoodies, just before a storm came.

Meet Penny Cochin

She's hard to beat. In anything. Especially running. If she had her way, our wings would be placed on our heals. She has found out there is a city in India called Cochin and now she wants to run there, to find out if that is where she is from. I've told her, "Penny, you can't run across the ocean! You can fly across it, but not run!" She isn't convinced. She likes the beat of a waltz, drinking lemonade with little mint leaves, and leaving really hyper-spazzy messages on her cell phone (which she changes every day). She's got a one-track mind and thinks of life as a race, so that every once in awhile, she'll be flying next to you and then she'll start yelling, "Go! Go! You can finish! You can do it! Dig in! Go hard! Win!!" even though we're just flying from one bakery awning to the next.