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The latest
Aug. 5th, 2021 09:04 amBiggie has taken to moving his bird catches from the original Killing Field. He now brings them in and starts towards the back of house. They are no longer a gift for me but a prize to be hidden from me. And, where he used to drop them as soon as he got the into the Killing Field area, now I have to fight him for them. And he's not happy about my taking his find. Not happy at all. New level. I did see him get one this morning in mid air. That was number 2 for the morning. (Honestly, if he'd just keep them outside, I think, at this point, I'd let him have at least one or two. But I am not going to sit here and watch him dine on bird tartare.)
It's a feather fetish. He will also spend forever chasing a feather on the end of a wire. I dug out an old bird toy and he spent some quality time with it just now. This is a stuffed toy. A fake bird.
Now he's back out on the terrace looking for number 3 of the live variety.
The good news is that the bird killing is pretty much confined to mornings. Only one time has he ever caught a bird later in the day and that was just after lunch once weeks ago.
Meanwhile on the non-bird front, I've been fucked again by Etsy. I don't know what it is about me and random Etsy vendors, but I have the golden touch. This time I only spent $20 and it was a Seattle vendor who looked fine. But crickets. Total crickets. I'm sure, if I hear from her, it will be with some sob story about a sick child or dog or some other very nonprofessional reason why she thinks it's fine to open up a market place and then ignore it. At this point I think I've heard it all. They should just assign A, B or C to the whines and cut the word waste.
The problem is that I have had perfectly wonderful and delightful Etsy experiences. I have not had any in between ones - black or white, 1's or 0's. blech.
And speaking of binary... About six months ago, the building manager sent me an email accusing me of spitting off my balcony. It was not only not true (and I had the video to prove that no one was on my balcony that morning), the wording and, in fact, the whole email was incredibly insulting. I sent a note to his manager expressing my displeasure and my hopes that he would be trained on how to handle such situations.
Yesterday, I got a call from that same building manager. He said that some trash had been left in the wrong place and the cleaner had found my name on a box in that trash. I actually had seen the trash yesterday morning on the way out. I explained what I had seen and his immediate response was 'I really couldn't believe you would do that anyway.' I was able to give him the exact time I saw the stuff so that he can find it quickly on the security cams. He thanked me for the help. It was like talking to an entirely different person.
So, of course, I had to send another note to his manager, this time a thanks for an excellent job of retraining and good results!
I might stroll over to the ATM today and the ballgame is at 4 and that is it for my plans today. Unless more birds need burial.
It's a feather fetish. He will also spend forever chasing a feather on the end of a wire. I dug out an old bird toy and he spent some quality time with it just now. This is a stuffed toy. A fake bird.
Now he's back out on the terrace looking for number 3 of the live variety.
The good news is that the bird killing is pretty much confined to mornings. Only one time has he ever caught a bird later in the day and that was just after lunch once weeks ago.
Meanwhile on the non-bird front, I've been fucked again by Etsy. I don't know what it is about me and random Etsy vendors, but I have the golden touch. This time I only spent $20 and it was a Seattle vendor who looked fine. But crickets. Total crickets. I'm sure, if I hear from her, it will be with some sob story about a sick child or dog or some other very nonprofessional reason why she thinks it's fine to open up a market place and then ignore it. At this point I think I've heard it all. They should just assign A, B or C to the whines and cut the word waste.
The problem is that I have had perfectly wonderful and delightful Etsy experiences. I have not had any in between ones - black or white, 1's or 0's. blech.
And speaking of binary... About six months ago, the building manager sent me an email accusing me of spitting off my balcony. It was not only not true (and I had the video to prove that no one was on my balcony that morning), the wording and, in fact, the whole email was incredibly insulting. I sent a note to his manager expressing my displeasure and my hopes that he would be trained on how to handle such situations.
Yesterday, I got a call from that same building manager. He said that some trash had been left in the wrong place and the cleaner had found my name on a box in that trash. I actually had seen the trash yesterday morning on the way out. I explained what I had seen and his immediate response was 'I really couldn't believe you would do that anyway.' I was able to give him the exact time I saw the stuff so that he can find it quickly on the security cams. He thanked me for the help. It was like talking to an entirely different person.
So, of course, I had to send another note to his manager, this time a thanks for an excellent job of retraining and good results!
I might stroll over to the ATM today and the ballgame is at 4 and that is it for my plans today. Unless more birds need burial.
