Day 1
I feel as if I'm starring in the sequel to the movie Starlings in my own house these days. Ever since a blackbird chick appeared dead in the fireplace, an adult blackbird—probably its mother—has been driving me crazy. I haven't gotten to the point of wearing a helmet yet, but I'm toying with the idea of resorting to some sort of throwing weapon, whatever works: a slipper, a broom, or even a stone. Waking up to a garden full of holes in the soil, pulled-up lettuce, and a huge mess of dirt scattered everywhere is more than I'm willing to put up with. The bird treats my garden like a free buffet.
I started with peaceful methods: First, I hung up a disco ball, hoping the reflections would scare it away. Then I built a scarecrow the size of a ten-year-old boy, and finally, I managed to made a ten-foot colorful snake out of a black hose, but the bird has been hovering all day anyway. Tomorrow I'm pulling out the big guns. I haven’t been working my ass off just to have everything ruined by a freeloader.
I just saw it's back! I'll be right back. This is war.
The problem with these sort of stories from Coral is that you never quite know for sure whether they are authentic (true story) or not. That said, it’s a funny and (very) well-written text, but no surprises there.
hahaha. That's exactly what my therapist says, "Coral, your life sounds made up, but oddly... I believe you". (Estic del pardal fins als nassos. Es un dimoni)😂