#nest egg

[diana-andraste]

Mother, Olha Stepanian, 2021

[thefrankshow]

Trump’s nest egg.

[sparkpen]

decided on a firstname for nest egg!! sunny!! like sunny sid-💥

he totally talks shit about rainmaker and is like "ugh shes so dramatic.. i literally got booted to a whole new department... u dont have it that hard girl.."

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

And they were roommates...

[squaredawayblog]

Many retirees say they’re enjoying their freedom. But the financial sacrifices from leaving the labor force weigh on them.

[testormblog]

Money with Wings

One day, I found a live baby parrot on the ground, fallen from its nest.  I thought it could be my pet so carefully carried it home and showed it to my father.  Dad smiled sadly at me.  He liked the little bird too.  He said, ‘Jakob, put it in an old cage in the shed.  However, it probably won’t survive.’  He was right.  I brought a few more young parrots home.  We fed them bread and honey.  Unfortunately, they didn’t survive either.  The next one, I fed grain.  It lived and thrived.

I decided to catch more birds.  What a challenge!  They were smart and escaped me quickly.  I talked to Pop about this and he built me a single door treadle trap.  Inside it, I placed a tub of grain to attract my quarry.  Once the bird was inside, its weight closed the door.  The trap worked well and I caught some birds.  Dad then suggested we construct an aviary.

At that year’s Beenleigh Show, I loitered around the bird exhibits and discovered that people bought birds.  I had a keen eye for money making ventures.  Some rare birds were selling for ten shillings each.  I knew where these nested in the bush and could catch three or four of them a day.  Forty shillings beat the miserly two shillings an hour Mattie Jones paid me.

I expanded the aviary then built another and constructed more traps.  My hobby became a small business.  I held up to one hundred birds in stock.  I began to breed, both from birds I caught and purchased.  I bought a state show champion and bred beautiful opaline budgerigars.  My aviaries housed budgerigars of every colour, a variety of parrots, including some pretty peach face lovebirds, and java finches.  My birds won show prizes every year.  This gained me free advertising and clients.  Everybody wanted a pet bird yet suppliers were few.

Still, my enterprise wasn’t an easy lark.  My aviaries had to be registered with a government department.  I had regulations to learn.  These included which species I could legally trap and breed.  An inspector could arrive anytime unannounced.  Sometimes, a pretty bird flew my way and I had no idea whether I should make it mine.  Nevertheless, my pet shop clients never asked if the birds were trapped or bred.  I looked after my birds well and only kept the healthy ones.  I helped the local farmers in return for bird feed, otherwise difficult and expensive to obtain.  They let me harvest cobs of corn as well as stalks of milo to thrash for seed.  I nicked off from school at lunch to check my traps and transfer any quarry in with my call birds.  With Reggie, I delivered orders as far as Brisbane.  Reggie really liked driving his car if I covered his fuel.  The pet shops always accepted whatever I offered.  After expenses, each delivery earnt me a hundred shillings plus, over five pounds.  Good pocket money!

I quickly learnt which birds attracted what prices.  Generally, their prices reflected their availability for sale, their physical appearance and condition as well as their dietary requirements.  Scaly green parrots were plentiful and difficult to feed.  They fetched a shilling each.  Rainbow lorikeets were rare at that time as well as beautifully coloured.  They were worth twenty scaly greens.  A pair of pale headed rosellas brought four shillings.  Most finches sold at ten shillings per dozen except for a single gouldian.  This small purple and gold breasted, green winged, red faced bird netted twenty shillings.  Nobody wanted pigeons, miners or magpies however.  If a cockatiel flew my way, that was a lucky day.  The same applied to a galah.  Back then, the galahs lived out west and strays were difficult to trap.  Both these species were talking birds.  This made my price negotiable.

The biggest threat to my business were Mother’s two cats, Peter and Jimmy.  She loved them and they her but nobody else.  Dad and I avoided them.  They sank their claws into anything living and efficiently killed whatever wasn’t human, including native fauna.  Mother claimed they were good ratters.  Well, these cats bore a grudge towards me.  When I was little and they much smaller, I decided Peter’s bluey grey colour should be green thus painted him so with housepaint.  These murderers longed to avenge my misdeed and sought to slaughter my beloved birds.  They often prowled around my aviaries hoping for an open door before they buggered off to the chook house.  One day, they took their frustration out on a poor hen.  Dad then exacted his on them!

The illegal export game was a risk too.  I unwittingly became caught in it.  A Mr Bright enquired about birds for sale.  He had seen my aviaries whilst driving by.  I was suspicious of him.  He admired my best birds kept in the large open aviary.  Many of these were my call birds and weren’t for sale.  They called their wild cousins into traps for me.  He offered me prices I couldn’t refuse.  Thus, I sold some.  He ordered others and returned for them.

Mr Bright asked about a specific bird not available in the pet shops.  I knew this bird lived near the creek.  He offered me twenty shillings each, a pound, and placed a £25 order.  Big money!  I found a couple nests then watched the chicks hatch and grow.  I stole them when they had their feathers and were ready to fly.  I caught fish daily to feed them and waited for Mr Bright to return.  He didn’t!  I pondered what to do with these birds; release them or sell them to another client.  I figured they were valuable given Bright’s offer of a man’s weekly wage.

Late on a Saturday afternoon, Reggie drove me to a client’s house.  I regularly delivered birds there, showing up without prior notice, as was the case this time.  Dad came too.  He suspected something wasn’t right.  This client, nicknamed Happy Dog, sold top notch birds at his pet shop in the City.  Dad and I knocked on his front door for some minutes.  We heard grunting noises from inside.  An unhappy Happy appeared in his boxers.  He saw the cage of birds and beckoned us into the light of the enclosed veranda.  On this veranda was a bed on which sat a different type of bird wrapped in a sheet, likely the sort who did tricks.  She was displeased that her transaction was interrupted.  I was naïve to her kind of business and only hoped to offload the birds for my small fortune.

My hope evaporated.  Happy said these birds were illegal to keep.  The woman yelled at both him and I in coarse language.  She demanded I leave with the birds and he come back to bed.  He moved me away from her earshot and asked me the price.  I told him Bright’s offer.  The enormous amount seemed a joke.  He laughed, then replied he’d pay twenty-five shillings tops, a tenth of the price.  I reluctantly handed over the birds and resolved to stick to my usual species.  I continued to supply Happy.  He was a major client.

I saved my profits. My birds laid me quite a nest egg to feather my future.  When my adult life began, my business flew the coup.

[theworld-hopperrenewed]

Horrible time for a nest egg mentally, but I've called myself something terrible, and want to say I'm sorry.

When you're a forgetful person, it's impossible to remember all of the good you've done for other people and yourself. Usually, all you can remember are the times you suffered and made yourself suffer. Even on this site, you were good to a lot of people before you started over.

I can't say "just don't be mean" and mean it, but... Just don't be mean to yourself anymore. No matter how bad you spiral, you've been too mean to youself for too long. I'm sorry we got this bad, and no matter how many times we fuck up, we can start all over again. Okay?

[thefinancialstoryteller]

$200k is Halfway to $1 Million

If you are invested in the stock market, you are probably closer to $1 million than you realise. If you’ve ever taken a walk, you can probably guess where you’ll be after 30 steps. It’s a simple linear progression, something you’ve done countless times. But what if you took 30 exponential steps? That means doubling the size of your step each time. So, your first step is one meter, your second…

[vincentblackbearmediallc]

Investing money has always been a productive and beneficial idea, but now it’s revolutionary. You can invest money and grow a nest egg for yourself while making the world a much better place for other people. The way to do it is to participate in socially responsible investing.Socially responsible investing is putting your funds on stocks and other assets of companies that promote positivity or support sustainability. Investing in a solar panel provider or an organization that provides affordable homes is an example of socially responsible contributions.

[cokibby]

women long for the lunar surface

[septemberlikestea]

as penance for saying we would get news last week i will be continuing to post whatever this is...!

[sparkpen]

hes so fun to draw literally

[aqua-regia009]

The last beech ― Emilia Castañeda Martínez (Spanish, b.1943)

https://emiliacastaneda.com/

[weepingwidar]

Annika Tucksmith (American, 1995) - The Nest (2022)

[scp-69]

lets nest in a stupid fucking place. with mama