There are 6 tiny, fuzzy little baby birds in there, all cuddled up together. You do have to look closely because they blend in with the nest so well. Can you see their little beaks? Aren't they adorable? You have to say yes, because I'm kind of their grandma by default.
On Sunday, I thought I saw some signs of the cretinous redneck neighbors perhaps getting ready to move. Monday, alas, they were still in residence. Perhaps they were just spring cleaning their apartment, resulting in the six to eight garbage bags they hauled out of there. As of today, I suppose the score stands at Rednecks - 1, Serena - 0, but that is subject to change. Anybody with any sense at all knows it's not a good idea to piss off Serena, so I guess I'm going to have to haul out the big guns now. Will power alone may not be enough. I think I need to try and remember where I stashed my little dollie and get him/her/it out -- and make sure I have some long, sharp pins. The score is going to change. You just watch and see.
Happy Tuesday, folks.
8 comments:
Birds make noise. You could have prevented that when you had the chance.
Also, what if the Rednecks threw out something valuable, like Mickey Mantle rookie years baseball cards? I would haul those 6-8 bags back to your place and sift through them at the kitchen table. Find just one collectible, and it's a tie ballgame once again.
Remind me to stay on your good side!
True, Pugsley, but those little birds aren't likely to blast me out of bed with a loud thumpa-thumpa-thumpa beat. Alas, I'm going to have to forgo the chance of Mickey Mantle rookie year cards. There could be ptomaine, rabies, salmonella, crabs, ebola, syphillis, etc., in those bags.
Aww, you're always on my good side, Galen. I believe that's my left side. That's what that dude with the camera who said he was a movie producer said, anyway.:-)
great
when is
the bbq then?
just kidding, grandma :)
AND HAPPY TUESDAY, SERENA JOY!
HAVE A GREAT WEEK!
¤ ¤
/t.
Oh, my goodness, /t.! I'm not going to tell the urchins what you said and scare the poor little things. Of course, all 6 of 'em together wouldn't fill a mini-bun, so it wouldn't much of a BBQ.:-)
Not that I'd ever suggest that /t. and BBQs are synonymous -- 'cept for lamb -- but if your redneck neighbors think there's pullets waitin' fer roastin' in yer flower pot, whoa doggies!
My lips are sealed, Skunk. I ain't tellin' those 'necks anything about my babies.:)
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