BOREDOM

Has it really been more than a week since I last blogged?  
You can blame it on dear Miss Creative.   I've had to sit around with nothing to do but twiddle my feathers.  While SHE'S been monopolizing the computer---day and night.  No sign of a finished "manuscript".  (Last night after SHE finally left me in privacy at the studio, I pried and poked casually looked around.  Nothing except trash.  Of course.)   And the wastebasket is overflowing, really disgusting....  (WHY doesn't she EMPTY it???  How depressing, to look at all that...all that FAILURE.....every day.)  

A sad state of affairs.  For Miss Creative.  Not for ME, of course.  (But so boring...yawn...)

MORE OF THE SAME

Another ream (by my estimate) of paper in Miss Creative's wastebasket today...not to mention the additional discarded paper all over the studio floor.  I wonder---should I say something to her?  Point out the...the absurdity...of her---her delusional activity, her deplorable wastefulness?  I can't stand to think of all the trees that have been cut down to make that paper--- and all for---for NOTHING.  Probably mostly pine trees, too.  Horrible.  I'm going to have nightmares about it, I know...

SPEECHLESS

I'm---I'm---well, I don't know what to say.  I searched through glanced at the papers on Miss Creative's desk.  And made a shocking discovery.  She IS working on a story.  (That's not the shocking discovery---although it IS amazing, I agree.)  No, the shocking discovery is that the "story" is ONLY ONE PAGE LONG.  All that paper wasted for just one page?  (And can a story even be only one page long and still be a story?  I sincerely doubt it...)  Poor Miss Creative...

BRIEFLY...

I've managed to get a few minutes alone in Miss Creative's studio...  The first thing is to find out if she really is working on a story...

Well, her wastebasket has about a ream of paper in it.  So whatever she's writing...maybe it's not coming out right?  (I wouldn't know, of course---my compositions usually need a gazillion rewrites come out just fine the first time around.)  Doesn't SEEM to be a grocery list, either...although...OOPS.  Here she comes.  More later.

SHARING?

Haven't been able to get any blogging done because dear Miss Creative keeps hogging the computer.  She goes every day to this little building (she calls it her studio---and do you notice that, ONCE AGAIN, I am the only one who does NOT have a building of my own?) where she claims that she is "writing a story". AND SHE'S KEEPING THE COMPUTER THERE.  I doubt she's actually writing anything...more likely, just doesn't want to share the computer with me...

To my surprise, Miss Creative has just invited me into her studio with her...She never lets anyone into her studio...There's some catch to this, you can be sure.

Well, there's a lot of paper strewn around here---it's a real mess, actually.  Doesn't prove, of course,that dear deluded Miss Creative is writing a story...she's probably just been trying to compose her grocery shopping list, if the truth be known...

...but there is a perfect place for me---up in the north-facing window where I can look out on a pine tree.  A really pathetic pine tree, to be perfectly honest---but a pine tree nevertheless.  Plus the computer is right there on the table...


I'll keep you posted.  IF Miss Creative lets me stay here alone with HER computer, that is...

REFLECTIONS

Not in the best of feather today...keep thinking about the little investigation that I made in Phoenix while I was there.  The one about the house in the back yard that's supposed to be for me.  Except that the investigation was...well, it was...discouraging.

I started with an overflight of the house....that was bad enough...

...and as I got closer the house didn't look any better...in fact it looked WORSE...

...and the closer I got the worse it looked....

...and when I flapped inside and took a look at the floor...

....and then at the ceiling.....

Well, maybe you can see what I'm TALKING about...

I'll keep you posted...if I ever feel like blogging again...

A BIRTHDAY

I had a shock today.  Apparently it was Miss Creative's birthday.  Not only that, but she celebrated it.  Several times.  (If I were as old as she is, I'd keep quiet about birthdays.)  The other surprise---rather unpleasant, actually---was that I was forced to attend EACH CELEBRATION.  It all started this morning at the uncivilized hour of six o'clock, when I was rudely awakened by HER alarm.  And the purpose of this?  So that Miss Creative and her daughter---and Yours Truly, of course---could go out for breakfast.  (Totally unnecessary.  They already had perfectly good food in their refrigerator.  And I...well, read further.)  

Naturally the restaurant menu did not include suitable items like Poached Mouse or Sauteed Chipmunk.  So I was forced to eat large amounts of Quiche Lorraine, Croissants, Saucisse de Toulouse, Beignets, and Chocolate Mousse (not MOUSE, you notice).  No wonder I began to feel...rather unwell.  As soon as we had returned home, I made a hasty visit to the garden.  Dosed myself with a talon-full of parsley.  

A long nap helped.  By evening I was feeling more myself---just in time to be dragged to the NEXT celebration. Which was observing Miss Creative as she opened presents.  Mountains of them.  Well, maybe four of them.  Followed by another celebration---more eating. 

 And then a butterscotch pie with candles.  (Lighted candles, that is.  Very peculiar.)  

I did manage to eat a few pieces of the butterscotch pie.  (Didn't want to be rude.)  And drank several glasses of the elderberry punch, though it wasn't all that good.

Now the day's over...and I've finally been left in peace.  I'll take a few flaps through the treetops.  Then it's time for sleep.  Til my next post...

CONTINUED AGAIN...

There of course was another disappointment during the Wedding Weekend.  (Leave it to Miss Creative to make promises that never come true.)  On the way home we were to travel over the Lincoln Gap.  I had no idea what a Gap was.  But when we went over it (whatever it was) there would be a gorgeous view.  A view of what?  Well, I didn't know that either.  But it was going to be gorgeous.  That was the promise.  So we drove up and up and up along this VERY winding road.  (I actually began to have some...er, trouble...with my stomach.)  Thank goodness we stopped and parked.  We were at the top of the Gap.  (At least Miss Creative said we were at the top of the Gap.  Was I going to argue with her?)  

We got out of the car.  I perched on a fencepost to take a look.  And what did I see?  Scrubby trees, most of them dead.  Scraggly bushes.  If you looked really hard through all the dead trees, you could just barely see a mountain, way way in the distance.  (THEY all called it a mountain, anyway.  I would have called it a hill.  Or maybe just a lump.  I know about REAL mountains, after all.)

See what I mean?  Hardly worth getting out of the car for.  Except at least it gave my stomach a chance to calm down.   


And I still have no idea what a Gap is.

I'M STILL HERE---CONTINUED

Didn't have time yesterday in my blog to cover all events of the past ten days.  On the way up to the wedding, we all spent the night with one of Miss Creative's sisters.  (I haven't yet figured out just how many sisters she has.  Too many, perhaps?)  The next morning I had time to make a short tour of the estate.  First visit was to the flower garden, where---the night before---I had noticed evidence of small furry creatures.

The search in the flower garden for...um, breakfast...proved disappointing, so I decided to stretch my wings on a short flight.  Along the way, I investigated several convenient tree tops.  (There weren't any pine trees nearby, so I had to make do with maples.  Inferior to pines, of course.)

The exciting part happened when I was resting in this oaklet.  See me up there?  I turned around to observe the view in the other direction---and saw a building.  A perfect, red-painted building, with a beautiful dark green door.  So THIS was why the Fates had dragged me along on this horrendous, endless trip.   I would FINALLY have that house of my own.  The one Miss Creative kept talking about.  But did nothing about.  Who would have guessed that it was actually Miss Creative's sister who would provide me with my house?  (Perhaps too many sisters are...just enough sisters?)

I flapped over immediately to examine the building more closely.  It was the perfect size for me.  Well, maybe a bit on the large size---but I could manage.  There would be a cozy fireplace inside, I was positive, and a wide pine board floor---my favorite kind.  And an old-fashioned porcelain sink---so hard to find these days---and probably even some handy built-in shelves for storing my supplies.  Not to mention a lovely rope bed with a crackling straw-stuffed mattress, and...

But it was my fate on this morning to suffer a cruel disappointment.  This building was not a house.  I was shocked.  Instead this beautiful building contained only a huge ugly METAL contraption called A GENERATOR.   Ugh.   I haven't recovered fully from this blow.  I fear that Miss Creative's promise of a house of my own is just that---an empty promise.

I'M STILL HERE!

Ten days since I last wrote here, but it feels like ten WEEKS.  More things have happened to me in ten days than happened in the whole forty years of sitting on Miss Creative's mantlepiece.  Remember last time I wrote,  I was crushed into a vehicle with humans, dogs, cakes, and other things?  Speeding (and I mean speeding) along a highway for hours and hours?  Well, we were all on our way to a WEDDING.  Can you believe it?  Bessie Beetum, on her way to a wedding?  Two months ago I never would have dreamed of such a thing.  

Whose wedding?  Well, it wasn't mine, that's for sure.  Ha ha.  No, it was Miss Creative's niece who was getting married.  I must admit that my eyes were watering quite a bit as I watched the bride and groom dancing together.  Must have been all that wild parsnip that was growing around the tent---I'm terribly allergic to it.

And remember those cake layers stacked up in the back of our speeding vehicle?  This is what happened to them.  Miss Creative's sister did this.  Strange to have a stack of chocolate BRICKS to eat...when they could have had something really tasty, like a big bowl of fat mice, or platters of succulent meadow voles.  But you never know about these humans...

Resting quietly for a few days after a big shindig like this wedding wouldn't do for Miss Creative, of course.  OR for her family, I might add.  As soon as we got back to Cape Cod, cousins came visiting.  And more sisters.  And more nieces.  And brothers-in-law.  And probably nephews and aunts and uncles and who knows what else?  (I must say that Miss Creative's family is even bigger than an owl's family.  And a lot noisier.)  The high spot---or really, the LOW spot---of the last ten days was when Miss Creative and ALL her relatives decided to take the 93-year old grandfather down to the beach for a nighttime marshmallow roast.  

Did you ever hear of anything so ridiculous?  Raucous laughing and carrying on.  Grownups acting like owlets.  Even the grandfather.  Most undignified.  It was embarrassing.  Thankfully I, at least, knew how to behave myself.

Oops.  It's dark---time for me to stop.  Got to take my bedtime spin amongst the pine trees.  I'll keep you posted...