I have a looverrrrllly parking place at my work, as you can sorta see in this rather hastily shot photoooo. I guess you can also see the bird poop there on my loooverrrlly little Ninja. It is red-winged blackbird poop, to be specific. (I had an almost overwhelming urge to write “pacific” there instead of “specific”. Once upon a time, a teenage visitor wrote a nice entry in the Houghton Lake Log and made that word substitution. Obviously he or she did not grow up under the thumb of The Commander! Or Mrs. Pratt…)

Anyway. I did a lot of kvetching yesterday and maybe you would have too if you had been on the kind of coffee high that I was on. I know better than that. And I cannot figger how some people can drink, oh I dunno, five cups of coffee in a row or two pots throughout the day or whatever. One, maayyyyybeeee two cups, is enough for me. Regular strength, thank you very much. I don’t do decaf any more either. The last time I drank a cup of decaf, I got a headache. I do not EVER get headaches. Once every two years or so. I blahgged it and I think NpJane suggested a connection with decaffeinated coffee. Whether correct or not, I haven’t touched the stuff since! And I haven’t had a headache…

Anyway, not only is my parking space gorgeous, it is in a “safe” place where people can and do leave their windows open on hot days. It is an under utilized lot in a backwater business park and about the only interlopers we ever see are the occasional fisher-person or birder. Not the most likely kind of person to come along and hot-waaarrrr somebody’s vee-hickle and make off with it. Not that anyone would necessarily want to steal my three-year-old Honda Civic SI with a 6-speed manual transmission, performance taarrrrs, and, uh, red-winged blackbird poop. On top of all that, we have a building “mom” who sends an email out if big red blobs are heading our way on the weather map.

Yesterday, it was gonna be 90. The Ninja is black inside and out and, even though it has a/c, when I got to work, I thought, “what the heck, I will leave the windows open.” And so, I did. Problem? I rolled them ALL THE WAY DOWN! Okay. Agelaius phoeniceus individuals land on my mirrors all the time. And they poop on the vee-hickle from there!!! I know that! Yesterday afternoon, when I went out to get into my loovvverrrlly little Ninja, not only was there poop on the outside of the vee-hickle underneath the mirror, some of it had splattered into the *interior*. Fun times. It could’ve been worse. The Admiral could’ve pooped there. But he seems much more discreet. (And then there was the time I got into the Exxon Tanker Valdez after the windows had been open all night — even though that beast had kick-ass A/C — and an AMINAL jumped into the front seat! A skunk? Yikes! No! Just a cat. Phew…)

I did have coffee today but it was a “medium house coffee” at Barry’s, where I met up with MMCB and our long lost coffee buddy Sari. Much sandwich generation-type gossip ensued and that cup of coffee was a known quantity so I was A-okay today. No jitters and much productivity!

I suppose people did once cook things like [red-winged] blackbirds in pies. I think that blackbird sandwiches were even discussed in one of the Little House on the Prairie books. I am glad I do not have to resort to killing and taking apart large numbers of teeny little birds in order to feed my family.

Heck. Tonight I am even having trouble squashing the big ants that seem to be starting to invade the Landfill Chitchen after something like 20 years. I do not like to kill things. I never did like to kill things but I have less and less tolerance for it the longer I live… Except for those moments when I wish I had a blasted rocket launcher mounted on my vee-hickle.

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