Death By Pecking

All day I dreaded going up to that closed-off room on the third floor. I just knew that bird was still in there right where I saw him on the weekend, batting against the window-glass, crashing and splashing like the heart in your very chest during the worst nightmare but No. It was quiet. Maybe it went out as it had come in, through the one place in the eave not crammed with insulation.So need for the nets and tennis racquet this time thank God, thank God.Flying creatures put a fear in me like Tippi Hedren showed in “The Birds", the way they can just come at you like that. The way they just won’t stop. I think of the poor guy who smelled so bad he fled to an island paradise - where, walking the beach on his very first day, he got pecked to death by seagulls. This picture above was caught by the motion-activated wildlife camera David got for Father's Day and what on earth kind of a bird is THAT?Now check out this collage of clips from this great Hitchcock film and you tell me: Do the birds attack because of Tippi’s smug schoolmarm way? Or is it that they’re just itching to dismantle that prim hairdo? Tell you what I think: the chick is wearing a fur coat for like 90% of the film and those birds? Those birds all belong to PETA.[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eF-c4JkFZRo&feature=related]

Climb In It's Freezing

Gonna be COLD again today, so cold your tongue is gonna  freeze clear through when it touches your fillings.Lucky for me I got a jacket for Christmas that is brown and toasty and looks a lot like fur. In the old days if a lady had a fur she told the world; she wore the whole carcass right around her neck. Remember the little dead heads dangling down from ladies' throats in the old days? those ladies were PROUD ! Our mum could never pull off the snob thing herself. When she finally did inherit an old fur it was a mink-dyed muskrat which she made the mistake of saying once in front of us kids. From then on that’s all anybody called it.I also have a black jacket that might or might not be fur and - wait, is that a can of paint you're holding behind your back? - but since I mostly wear  brown these days, to go with my dye-job, Old Dave gave me this new one.Anyway here are the two jackets on my kitchen stairs the other night warming two younger members of my gene pool who had the nerve to call me “Carmela,”  as in Soprano, on account of this new gift. (I cut their heads off for revenge.  But tell ya what, when people are cold and they spot a piece of outerwear as toasty and lightweight as EITHER a mink-dyed muskrat OR a Gee-Beav-What-a-Nice-Shade-of-Brown, they don’t even put down their beers before climbing on in themselves!)