Birds, Nuns, and Miscellaneous Trash Talk

Another weird bird story
What is it with me and birds? Or is just birds in general? Anyhow, one day about a week ago, we discovered that our beloved, noble, and honorable guinea pig, Thunder, had passed away, so I went out back to dig a hole for him (yes, I do realize that a guinea pig is not a bird - in fact, it's a mammal - but if you stick with me, we'll get to the part with the bird). As I was digging, I couldn't help but remember some of the other pets we'd put to rest underneath the back forty, and I got to feeling a little melancholy remembering Caitlyn sobbing as we put her pet rat (mammal, not bird), Frisky, to rest, or Connor announcing to anyone willing to listen, "Barney's dead. He died in the bar, and I saw him when he was dead (Barney, by the way, required a jumbo-sized hole - he was a gentle giant, after all - but a dog, not a bird). So I finished digging the hole and went to see who else wanted to attend the services, but it wound up only being Katie and me (Carrie said it would make her too sad, and Connor doesn't do ceremonies of any kind - he still runs and hides when we start to sing "Happy Birthday" to him). Katie picked up the shoebox that was serving as a coffin, and she and I headed for the gravesite. As we passed under the big ol' pine tree out back, all the sudden, the back half of a dead rabbit (mammal, not bird) dropped from the sky and thumped to the ground right in front of us. I kid you not - there were hind legs, hips, and about half a torso lying there, and we were like, what the heck? Then we looked up and saw a hawk (finally, the bird makes an appearance) sitting on a telephone pole. He/she was glaring down at us as if to say, "Get away from my dinner you wimpy, wingless, featherless creatures, or I'll peck your eyes out and beat you around the head until you cry uncle." Normally, I would back down when faced with such a fierce and intimidating foe, but we were on a mission, so we went ahead and buried Thunder, stood for a moment with bowed heads, then walked back inside, leaving the hawk to (hopefully) swoop down and finish up his/her meal.

It's the little things in life
Way back in November, I cut back all our century plants, then in subsequent weeks, trimmed some of the trees, raked up a bunch of leaves and pine needles and twigs and branches beneath the eucalyptus, mesquite and pine trees, pruned the bougainvilleas, and did a little bit of weeding. Which is all well and good, only there's only so much of this landscaping debris that you can fit into a trash can, and our service will only pick up the one can, and it only comes by twice a week. The upshot of this is that I had way more trash than can, which always kind of bugs me, because it means I have to load up the trashcan over and over again right before the pickup day which isn't always particularly convenient, plus there are piles of landscaping debris piled around the property, which looks kind of tacky. But I stuck with it, getting rid of one pile at a time until finally, last week, supply no longer exceeded demand, and I managed to squeeze in the last stack of pine needles into the trash and wheeled it out to the street for pickup. For whatever reason, I felt an inordinate sense of pride and accomplishment when I came home and realized that finally, it had all been hauled away. And yes, I could have loaded it up in the back of the pick-up and hauled it off to the dump myself, but that just wouldn't have been the same.

More on the four nuns in the Ford Taurus
I think Katie's always been a little skeptical about my whole "nuns in the Ford Taurus story," because whenever I mentioned it, she would look at me in a skeptical way as if to say, "Yeah, right." But that all changed when Katie was driving to work and pulled up to the light at La Cañada and Magee, glanced over to the right and saw… wait for it… four nuns in the car next to her, which just happened to be a Ford Taurus. When I saw the four nuns, I just stared, but Katie, being much more cool, calm, and collected (not to mention a whole lot friendlier), smiled and waved, and then then nuns - waved back! So they do exist, and since then, Katie has seen them several times as they motor around town, which makes you wonder - where the heck are they going? I mean, aren't nuns supposed to spend their days cloistering and praying and shuffling around with their palms pressed together and smiling enigmatically, or rapping knuckles and making naughty children stand in the corner? What's going on that would require them (four of them, no less) to drive around northwest Tucson? Definitely weird. Maybe even some kind of sign. These are scary, scary times.

Yet another weird bird story
The Cardinals are in the Super Bowl.

There's no way I can top that, so until next time, may your hawks hold onto their rabbit carcasses so they don't fall out of the sky and startle you, may your trash fit snugly and securely into your receptacles, and may your Super Bowl dreams come true so that you, too, can be paid untold millions for smiling into the camera and announcing, "I'm going to Disneyworld!"