I thought I was seeing a new species of bird. It had the coloring and shape of the standard barn birds, but sported a huge mustache. It sat quite awhile on the shelf so I got a really good look, but it took some time to see that the mustache was actually a beakful of Poppy wool. It must be nesting season. As this was a male bird, I imagine he was waiting for a lady bird to notice what a good provider he would be and choose him as a mate.
It might be nesting season for the birds. For me, it is tax season. Receipts and papers have been sorted and spread over the dining room table for a week. Yesterday I jumped in with both feet and sharpened several pencils in readiness. As long as I had the sharpener out, I might as well sharpen all the pencils in the house. I didn't think it would take that long to hunt them down. Sitting at the table to do some data entry at last, I noticed the hummingbird feeders were low. I couldn't let those little beggars go hungry so got up to make some juice. After filling the bottles out on the deck, it seemed necessary to water a few of the potted plants. Feeding the hummers made me realize that I was hungry, so I made a sandwich. Not wanting to get crumbs on those important papers, I sat in the living room and got interested in an episode of NCIS that I had seen many, many times before. Maybe if I watched it again, there might be a different ending this time (it could happen) and it was only an hour show. Omigosh, I remembered that, with rain predicted this week, I had to go to the feed store to stock goat chow. After unloading the truck and back in the house, I got a phone call from my friend Linda with news about her new job and I wanted to hear all about it. Before I knew it, it was time to put the kids to bed. With the best of intentions, I didn't get very far with the tax stuff. I don't know where time goes.
Last night I changed sheets from those cozy fleece to regular cotton. The effect on Ralph was immediate and startling. It was as if he'd been hit with a cattle prod. As I was making the bed, he was attacking the sheets, pouncing and darting like a mad thing. It only got worse as I tried to smooth them. Bess and Celeste looked on. He couldn't stop himself even when the blanket covered the offending sheets. As I'd feared, my feet became a moving target when I got in bed. I yelled. Bess and I slept alone last night.