missing badmenbirdies!
It was a Sunday much like many other Sunday's past and to come.
I got up and began switching all the clocks over to DST, something that to this day, perplexes me. I mean, after all, the sun comes up... the sun goes down. What's the big deal anyway.
The latest thing around our place, is indoor badminton. Anna has taken a liking to this, and given that we have a 16' high ceiling and a 50' long "great room", there is plenty of space for Mom and daughter to bat around a bird. We tried it with real birds once, wasn't a problem as they were prone to missing, but as they got better, cleaning up the feathers proved too much of a chore.
As I am going around the house trying to remember where all the clocks are located (score one for timeless Baja) the 'girls' are both distracting me with queries about where the dozen or so birds have flown off to.
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| BTBG! |
Being the big tough biker guy, I'm not the local indoor badminton champ, although Rusty and I never missed a chance during our years at NAIT to sneak off and play anyone and everyone that was up for a challenge... my answer was;
"How in the h_ll should I know!... I'm not the keeper of the birds!"
or something to that effect.
After I had located and adjusted the various house clocks including big (Ben) front and center in the living room, the microwave clock, the stove clock, the clock in my office, the one in the downstairs TV room, the one in my garage, the phone clock, the one in the Blazer, and having checked the various wristwatches on various motorcycles (they were all on DST anyway) and having made a mental note (now isn't that funny!) to adjust the PT Cruiser and Ford clocks... I went searching for birds, shotgun in hand...
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| Our version of Big Ben |
I mean, its a plastic cup more or less, where can they be. Mother and daughter swear they haven't seen them; "We haven't seen them!" and have no idea where they are; "We don't know where they are!" I begin a systematic sweep based on a convoy grid technique perfected in 1943 by the RCN.
Nada, the first try comes up empty. I look under the dining room table, the drop sheet on the floor, beneath every piece of furniture, still nada! The birds prove to be as elusive as U-boats, and having pretty much exhausted the possibilities, I scratch my scruffy chin and wonder to myself;
"If I were a bird... where would I go?"
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| Hi ceilings/low floors |
'I'd fly of course, that's what I would do.'
My eyes head skywards and there, atop my 8' foot high developing bookcase, I spot one! You can't imagine my joy (?) The womenfolk are laughing their pretty little heads off.
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| Roosting |
It's a bit high for me, so I haul the ladder over (which is like a Leatherman multi tool) and climb the steps high enough to reach the bird. I step one rung higher and spot a whole dam flock of the things hiding up there! I count 11 birds in total, that plus the one in hand (!) makes an even dozen. Anna swears she didn't misplace all of those birds up there; "It wasn't me!" and Mom just shrugs her shoulders.
Birds now relocated to ground level, a stern warning from me, "I'm warning you Anna!" don't be messing with my head, and I can go back to making breakfast.
How did those flightless birdies get up there in the first place...
(nudge nudge wink wink)
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