The birdwoman of Ridgecrest

The teenager came to mow today for the first time. He made eye contact, was polite and did a wonderful job. The teen vacuumer told me yesterday she would stay and do a couple of extra jobs. She vacuumed, including the baseboards. She also cleaned the front door, taking the glass out of the lower portion of the door. She cleaned under the crisper and the lower shelves in the refrigerator that are so hard for me to do. I am blessed to  have these two in my life.

Dr. House brought another male with him to feed today along with a couple of females. The mowing means I can observe the birds feeding habits a bit better. Today one of the birds used its feet to scratch up a cloud of seeds. It walked a bit farther and did the scratching again.

 I saw a sparrow hover like a harrier, its wings knocking the seeds from the stalks of grass.  I noticed nosy young birds hopping on the patio with my cats a few inches away (but behind glass).

Sparrows squabble. A spot on the fence becomes one upmanship. They squawk and fuss most of the time. They pick on each other like a couple of  brothers in the back seat of a car. The female shakes her booty and the male puffs up like a pompous politician. They do their little fence top tango. Afterward, they fly away in opposite directions.

I am losing the battle. I have been for weeks. I thought giving into my obsession would curb the cravings. I got one day's relief before I lost control again. I tried some of the best; some I had not enjoyed for awhile, thinking this move will fix the problem. Sad to say nope.

My stomach begins to burn in that familiar way. I stretch and twist, hoping to ease the discomfort. Yet my irresistible urge for satisfaction begins to overshadow all. I head for the kitchen where I hid the evidence of my yearning. There in the cabinet behind the bread and instant coffee it waits. Finally I give in, knowing the satisfaction of the moment will give way to guilt and pain.

The cacao bean got me again.

Boy, Dude.

Laters.+