So, the White-throated Sparrows finally (finally!) pulled up stakes and headed North, eh? Haha! Came out of work last evening only to be surrounded by maybe a dozen of the little clowns, whooping it up in the bushes, marching in formation as a brass band, dancing around doing juggling routines and forming human pyramids and the like. OK, I know when I’m licked. I give! Uncle! Stick around all year if you want – shoot, I’ll make room in my basement for you if that’s what you desire. First the infuriating House Mouse that has decided that he (she?) is one of the family and joins us at dinner and during the evening, each time casually trotting past the half-dozen lethal (set, and baited, but unsprung) traps and equal numbers of sticky Tanglefoot pads, not to mention the several containers of D-Con poison. I’m just waiting for it to hop up on my sholder and start making cooking suggestions. And now, the White-throats That Wouldn’t Leave! What, they think they’re Canada Geese now? I’m drifting into Mugato-land; soon I shall be attempting to brainwash a male model into assassinating the Prime Rib of Propecia. I feel like I’m taking crazy pills! It’s May 1, for goodness’ sake! Will no-one rid me of these turbulent sparrows? Argh; I think I’d better go and lie down for a while..
I see it all, now – it’s a plot.