What the heck is up with this blogging brain of mine, is what I want to know? I'll be walking along all day with random thoughts and thinkings popping into my head followed by thoughts of, "I'm going to blog that!" Then when it comes time to sit here and tell you all about it, my brain gets all stage frighty and runs and hides behind it's mom's skirt. So, maybe if you guys all look away for a minute and pretend you're not really listening, brain will come around...
Anyway, some things for us to go over:
I witnessed a hit and run accident a few days ago. It literally happened one car up and to the left of me. Craziest thing ever. I was in the loooong line of traffic that happens on this particular street after work, and this jackass speeds out of a gas station parking lot 2 cars ahead of me on the right, and PLOWS into this white car that was oncoming from the other direction. The jerk looked over his shoulder, then just drove on. I tried to see his license plate, but my windows were all foggy and gross (Louisiana humidity. Barf.), so I did exactly what any red-blooded American who watches Jack Bauer would do. I went after him. (Disclaimer: I have never actually watched Jack Bauer, but if you live anywhere in the US and know anybody who does watch him, it's really like you know him personally. Am I right?) So in this completely undramatic and responsible move, I executed what could quite possibly be the world's most awkward U-turn and sped after the perp at the legal speed limit. Are you intimidated by my crime fighting ways yet? He made a left-hand turn into a neighborhood, and he was gone. Sigh. I went back to the scene of the crime and waited with the girl in the white car (she was not hurt thankfully) and some other witnesses so that I could give my statement to the police. (Is it me or are most law enforcers REALLY short? I dated one so I'm allowed to say that.) The end.
There is something untoward going on in the botanicals in front of my townhouse. The walkway between the townhouses is lined with beautiful crepe myrtles and azalea bushes, and there are a few dove gangs that live in the trees. But y'all, as sweet as doves are, can I just tell you, they are DUMB. I mean straight up stupid. I thought it was just the one because I would go outside and he refused to fly and would just walk about all weird, and really, it just looked like a dodo bird from a cartoon. Feathers all askew on his head and whatnot. One day, it got startled by Gracie, and he and a friend took of flying and, don't you know he flew right into the overhang of someone's porch. He was fine, but really? It's not like it was an invisible house. I just assumed he was a special dove, if you follow, and I love him just as he is.
Well, (here comes the point) a couple of weeks ago, I noticed several feathers floating around the area. Nothing noteworthy but I always notice feathers because as some of you might remember, I am part bird. Then, I noticed sad, little broken eggs almost daily. At that point, I figured there was a snake or something frequenting the nests of the Dodoves for some protein snacks. I get that. I am one with nature and whatever so as sad as the broken little eggs were, circle of life and all that. Well, then the feathers were coming in greater numbers, and I realized, oh snap, someone is now after the Dodoves themselves! (I suspect the cats.) On one such day, there was clearly signs of a struggle. Like a feather pillow exploded. It was tragic, and I had to alter Gracie's usual business route for fear of finding the bird body. (barf!) But now, NOW, it seems whoever is responsible, is getting more and more bold. Yesterday, there were feather tufts almost ON MY FRONT WALK. Not entirely, but close enough, and they were tufty enough that I managed to convince myself that it was the actual bird's head (I'm sorry. Barf with me will you.), and that, my friends, is a dark place to be. It really was just feathers, but let me just make one thing clear to you all now: If I, ever in this lifetime, walk out my front door, and there is a bird head/body (barf!) on my front walk....well, I just don't even know how to finish that sentence. I know it will somehow involved Jack Bauer.