Sunday, May 28, 2006 Leaving the nest
It's dead bird season all over town. Last night I was at a friend's house, and the people there showed me a tiny one that had fallen off the roof earlier.
Last week at work, there was excitement every day, because some baby pigeons were throwing themselves out of a nest above the concrete alley, one by one, so they had to be rushed to the bird vet or mourned, depending on how much momentum they'd picked up.
A housemate of mine used to photocopy dead birds in a photocopier for an art project, and that's why good honest people don't touch the downstairs mini fridge, ever. If we were really good and honest, we would also avoid Kinkos.
Things have been strange in my house lately. I guess we had a rash of little pixies who were so sad to move out that they had to take keepsakes and momentos from those of us they were leaving behind. Sentimental things, like the cutting boards, or the measuring cups, or my hairdryer. In hindsight, we should have left them saucers of cream to appease them...they said they were vegan, though, so wtf? These creatures are inscrutable.
To be fair, I haven't straightened up my bedroom in about a year, and maybe if I move aside some of the clothes and papers, I'll find that one time that I forgot about, I made a little tangle of twigs and feathers, where I stored everything we're missing for safekeeping. Maybe all the potholders but one (the straggler that remains in the kitchen for some reason, poor lonely thing) will have hatched into fledgling oven mitts. Maybe the naked DVDs, whose cases remain, deceptively, in the living room will have molted and grown beautiful new cases.
Maybe all our stuff fell out of the nest I made for it, and came back as little birds. That is probably what happened. Probably, no one took anything at all. posted by Frenz | 5/28/2006 09:44:00 AM
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