A little fowl

I’m not a fan of birds.

Before I get angry spittle-filled rants, I have no problem with other people liking, even loving, our feathered friends. And I absolutely condemn killing anything just for sport. (If you’re hunting to feed and maybe even clothe yourself and your family, that’s a different issue that I am not dissecting now.) And obviously torturing and maiming any living creature for funsies is right out.

I feel like I’ve gotten waaaaay off topic and I’m barely half a dozen sentences in. Of course, these are me sentences, so it’s a lot of words, but still. Let’s loop back.

I dislike birds. Yet I have spent most of the evening since I got home fiddling with avians and avian-related paraphernalia. Not fiddling with. That’s gross.

I have three pink and two black plastic flamingos in my yard. And I’m looking to add a peacock, a heron or crane, and even a phoenix if possible.

Only the black ones aren’t plastic. They’re foam under their faux feathers. Like packing peanut grade foam. One has a completely broken neck. The other is well on his way to decapitation. So task one was gluing their necks (a bit like the metal plates in my own neck). Actually, task one was finding a tube of super duper wonder glue that hasn’t dried under the cap making it impossible to squeeze out the still viable glue. Then fix the flamingos.

(I’m amused that, no matter how often I type “flamingos,” autocorrect goes through a long list of random f words before grudgingly accepting that I am indeed typing “flamingos” again.

fit fair for from fly flying flash flame <silent yet still perceived sigh> flamingos

Then it was time for fun with chicken wire. I use chicken wire a lot. I do not have chickens. I never realized how weird that is until recently when someone commented on the many many many tiny scratches all over my hands and arms.

So I guess most of you don’t make Halloween ghosts out of chicken wire covered with cheese cloth. Or chicken wire blueberry cages (tonight’s project). Or short trellises for your bean and pea plants. Seriously, how do y’all get through a summer without chicken wire?

Torii loves chicken wire. She’s pissy right now because I wouldn’t let her chew on the wire I was shaping. Actually, I think she pouted until she fell asleep. But she’ll wake up pissy.

I forget where I was going with this. I may be a little lightheaded from blood loss from a thousand tiny cuts. All on my hands. You know how hand cuts bleed like the dickens.

Ghost. That's her name.