If I had to choose a word to describe this morning it would be random. Not just random, but random random, as in random squared, actually make that obscurely random squared. In short it was a WTF morning.
I have a collection of Smirks started from the weekend and we’ll get to those in due time, but before I work on any of that you deserve to hear about this morning. To put it into a little context and to help clearly convey my mood, here‘s a quick overview of what the weekend was like.
- Friday 3 AM – got picked up and headed to California
- Friday 5 PM – got to hotel in California
- Saturday 9 AM – workshop started
- Saturday 6 PM – day 1 of the workshop ends
- Saturday 11PM – got to bed
- Sunday 9 AM – started last day of workshop
- Sunday 6 PM – day 2 of the workshop ends
- Sunday 8 PM-ish – started driving to Las Vegas
- Monday 2 AM – arrived at condo in Vegas and went to sleep
- Monday 12 Noon – visited corporate office and warehouse for tour for a company my wife and her friends are working with
- Monday 7 to 8 PM – left Vegas
- Tuesday 2 AM – got home
Yeah, so our schedule for the weekend was a little hectic and explains why I didn’t have a chance to get anything posted. Please note that the above schedule is a very proficient way of experiencing a very long weekend in a very short period of time.
So what could have possibly pulled my exhausted tush, along with the rest of me, out of bed this morning while at the same time winning the award of most bizarre wake-up call I’ve ever or will ever receive throughout this or any life. I bird… a damn robin for about three hours straight keep flying into our bedroom window. Yes repeatedly over and over again, for THREE hours. Starting at 6 AM and it was still going strong when I left the house to go to work at 9:30 AM.
Really? Yes Really! I only wish I was making it up. The bird would fly into the window, fall downward, loop back up, and do it all over again. After about three to four loops in a row it would fly over to the fence and rest for a minute or two. It almost felt like the bird had a snooze button. My only guess is that it was catching its breath before it started its next barrage.
We even opened the blinds, thinking that maybe the wood blinds had left it a little confused, but no that didn’t detour it at all. I mean I’m a fan of people and animals living together, and if you are going to kill something, make sure you eat what you kill… but this bird was making me lose perspective in a hurry. I wanted to get a tennis racket, open the window and just wait for that little bane to do its next fly by.
I don’t know if there is a catnip equivalent for birds, but based on this little robin’s actions I’m pretty sure it had exceeded the daily dosage recommendation. And for the record, if you happen to find yourself in this type of situation, don’t stand in front of the window the bird is attacking while brushing your teeth. If you are still waking up those little buggers come out of nowhere. I mean I cleaned it up, but that side of the room does have a minty fresh aroma now.
I mean I guess I could thank it for getting me up and off to work, but I don’t want to. I’m still a little grumpy about the whole thing. If it shows up again tomorrow, I’m going to get a “Hang in there!” kitty poster and make stick it on our bedroom window facing outward, as a kind of window scarecrow. And if that doesn’t work I just might go rummaging through the garage to find that old racket.
Any of you have any similar wake-up call experiences?
Image Sources:
Google Images, key words: wake-up call, bird hitting window, washing window, and hang in there.
Operation: Shoeless on Sunday morning.
It never fails, the weekend decides to shorten itself by several hours against all denial that your brain tells you it swears Saturday never happened. “Where did the time go?” You ask yourself the night before. Luckily, there is still Sunday and nothing says “Keep holy the Sabbath” like sleeping in and passing over Mass. <– bit of a holy joke for the Catholic readers.
So, after a night of being woke a few times with whines from my beautiful Daughter, Aniela, I am introduced, yet again, to Woody. Woody is a Woodpecker-not the one from those cartoons we all use to watch as kids, but the one sent straight from the depths of hell via Satan's backside. I named him Woody because there is a distinct similarity between the toon and the demon spawn that wakes me up every single Sunday in spring.
Remember the episode where Woody drives the old Walrus completely insane? Same thing. The only thing missing from this purgatory of pain is the demonic laughter at the end of the cartoon.
I know what you're saying, Richard. You're saying, "But Scott, its just a woodpecker doing what a woodpecker does in the wild." Nay, sir! A woodpecker pecks wood, hence the title. This little seed of evil forgoes wood and drills the metal plate on my chimney! Every Sunday morning, around 7am 8ish, if I am lucky, ratatatatatatatatatatatatatatatata. Its like the birds of prey have taken up arms inside my fireplace. ratattatatatatatatatatatatatatata. "Honey, can you turn your cellphone off vibrate?" My wife says in a sweet morning slumbering *honey-do* tone. It's not the phone love, it's Woody. "Well, can you go talk to him then?"
Yes dear. I will go talk to the Woodpecker hammering out some kind of bird SOS on the chimney.
I slip into my house shoes and head outside. I gaze up to the chimney and standing there, all vibrant in the morning glow and chivalrous and daring and resolute with its pecking, is Woody. "Will you please stop with the gunfire, Woody?"
ratatatatatatatatatatatata!
"A compromise then?"
ratatatatatatatatatat!
very well. You, sir, leave me no choice. I take the house shoe and take aim. I throw it with the force of a minor league pitcher destine to remain minor, and the shoe whacks the chimney top, scaring away Woody, and then bounces off somewhere in the crevices of the roof. To coin a phrase you have used in your Smirks, It seemed like a good idea at the time.
Collateral damage…none. Missing house shoe, check. Woody situation under control, check. return to confines of warm soft bed.
ratatatatatatatatatatatatata!
"Honey?"
Yes dear.
"Did you talk to Woody?"
Yes dear.
"And?"
"irreconcilable differences, dear."
"OK." followed by, "Can you take Aniela and let me get a few winks?"
Yes dear.
The laughter of the woodpecker echoes inside my head.
That, my good man, was a fabulous story. Well done. It definitely got my smirk on. 🙂
I believe these stories help equate to humanity where the the age old battle of man vs. nature originate from. We just want to sleep in a little! Damn you nature and your task force dedicated to eradicating the bliss that is sleeping in on the weekend.
Hilarious!
But i think its way better than being pee-ed on by a pup at 4am 🙂
I would have to agree with you on every level. Thanks Benny for that delightful image and for strengthening my resolve to never have a pet in the house. 🙂