"’I know a place where we can get some alcohol,’ she
said. ‘Let’s go there; then we can really get blurfled.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m blurfled enough now.’"
- Philip K. Dick, Our Friends from Frolix 8 (1970)
Hi, Bonvivant. Darkwing and Rockin' Robin are already on this list, so no worries. I'll add Little Red Rooster if you'll post your comment on the word page for it. :-)
Kalayzich: Do you mean Kehaar (Watership Down)? If so, it's on the list. I'll add the Harry Potter birds as well. The two Potters that I know have actual names are Hawkes (phoenix) and Hermes. If you can think of any others, let me know. Thanks!
Sorry, ru--didn't mean for you to feel as though you were talking to yourself. I'm adding your addiction to the list to give it that special Latvian flair. The joke may be on you, but at least we can read about it. ;-)
I think of you each time I add a Scots bird (nick)name to my Dr. Jamieson's Birds list. Guiltily, I might add - you're the resident "birdlister".
Btw - I see Gambel's quail, mallards, and Canada geese every day. This week I observed 3 fuzzy red-tailed hawk chicks in a nest in a stand of scrubby locust trees, watched chukar partridges hunkering in the lee of some sagebrush during a snowstorm atop a mountain (and hiding from the red fox that was roaming around), and upslope from the partridges flushed a ruffed grouse...I'm in bird-watching heaven lately!
Thanks for noticing, RT! I do miss the place and the old regulars, as well. So it's nice to stop by once in a while. And the word list function is very useful for me. But I think it was easier to make and maintain a word list, especially a non-English one, on Wordie than it is on Wordnik. Maybe that is something I need to bring up with someone (John?).
That's right, sionnach; all my psittacine friends must weigh in on Wordnik before partaking of their daily birdie chow. I've taught them how to hunt and...er, peck...on the keyboard. You wouldn't believe how difficult it is to get those seed hulls out of the tiny little spaces between keys.
However, they refuse to speak in public, no matter how many sprigs of millet I offer, no matter how much chattering they do in private. They abhor the paparazzi, you see.