"Triflitos, un cereal con alto valor Nutritiva" it says on the box. We have a bit left over from Mexico so I've been putting it out for the birds. The crows love it. I tried getting a photo for you this morning and sat with my coffee, camera, pen and favorite notebook, the one I've been looking for all my life. I found it in Mexico but I've since seen it here in the good ol' USofA. It's the perfect size, with a binding just big enough to slip a pen in., plus it's good paper that doesn't curl when you write on it and perforated pages thus sparing one from the age old dilemma... to trim or not to trim. Like I say, I've been waiting but crows are not dummies. They saw me sitting at the window. I might as well have been jumping up and down and waving red flags at them. I gave up and when I came back in an hour, they'd devoured the entire pile. Crafty pigs!
The heartbreak is that Plonk hasn't been by to enjoy la gran diferencia. I say "heartbreak" because Dwayne told me that Plonk is hanging out as his place. He's not off hatching a family. He's defected! The little bastard. I asked Dwayne to look out for him when we were in Mexico but I'M HOME NOW, PLONK! But no. He now prefers Dwayne's. They have a damn wild life park over there. I think it's the peanuts. I've got to get some peanuts. And the real bird baths. Yes, plural. So many birds hang out over there that it's become a local hunting ground. Eagles and hawks stop by and grab some unsuspecting feaster from time to time. They even have a squirrel. In the desert, this is a big deal.
Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be feeding deer or any other mammal. It's not fair to them. They become tame then someone walks up and slits their throat. But Plonk! How could he do this to me? After I rescued him from rush hour traffic and gave him a new start in life. Some homing pigeon. Home until a better one comes along, eh Plonk?
But I should be working on my zine. The book sale is on Saturday and I'm going to be busy working at the conference right up to it. I've got the front cover printed. It looks great. Yesterday I printed out all the poems and selected most of the photos and worked them in. Today I have to do the paste up...mmmmmmmm...gotta go.
The heartbreak is that Plonk hasn't been by to enjoy la gran diferencia. I say "heartbreak" because Dwayne told me that Plonk is hanging out as his place. He's not off hatching a family. He's defected! The little bastard. I asked Dwayne to look out for him when we were in Mexico but I'M HOME NOW, PLONK! But no. He now prefers Dwayne's. They have a damn wild life park over there. I think it's the peanuts. I've got to get some peanuts. And the real bird baths. Yes, plural. So many birds hang out over there that it's become a local hunting ground. Eagles and hawks stop by and grab some unsuspecting feaster from time to time. They even have a squirrel. In the desert, this is a big deal.
Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be feeding deer or any other mammal. It's not fair to them. They become tame then someone walks up and slits their throat. But Plonk! How could he do this to me? After I rescued him from rush hour traffic and gave him a new start in life. Some homing pigeon. Home until a better one comes along, eh Plonk?
But I should be working on my zine. The book sale is on Saturday and I'm going to be busy working at the conference right up to it. I've got the front cover printed. It looks great. Yesterday I printed out all the poems and selected most of the photos and worked them in. Today I have to do the paste up...mmmmmmmm...gotta go.
2 comments:
I have one thing to say....
Buckwheat or buckshot.
I'll show you grateful....
ARG!!
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