I will not write about birds.

I will not write about birds.

I will not write about…Gak! Just this one thing. This morning, I’m working in the office, typity, typity, typity, when I hear a crash. So I dash to the kitchen where I notice first, the door is open (when will Libs learn to close the door behind her?) and second, a bird flying around the kitchen.

As this is not my first bird-in-the-kitchen situation, I was prepared to spring into action! But since the door was wide open, the bird wisely headed for wide open spaces and swoosh, she was gone. Now to investigate…what had caused the crash?

That’s a little John thumbprint flower on the broken flowerpot. Seems like something I should try to glue back together?

Apparently, the bird had knocked a very small flowerpot off the shelf. I’m no bird expert (despite all my writing and dealings with birds lately) but that seemed like a feat of amazing strength. For a bird, that is.

Anyway, slowly and very carefully, we’re getting out again in my neck of the woods. Which means you may read about something other than birds (and squirrels) here. But I’m not making any promises.

Oh! I do have something completely different: rejection! That’s always a cheery subject (and nothing to do with birds) so if you’re interested in knowing a little about what makes a bad rejection good, then you can dash over to The Muffin for my“Tale of the Three Good Rejections.”

So that’s about it. Except for the cardinal I found on the screened-in porch. AAAACCKK.

I will not write about birds.

I will not write about birds.

I will not write about birds.