~ ~ On the fourth day of christmas my true love gave to me four colly birds, three french hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree. ~ ~
I almost screamed when the blackbirds were delivered to my apartment. The mailman politely asked me how many more birds I thought I’d be receiving, to which I obviously had no answer. I just hoped my love was done sending me birds. Briefly, I considered releasing them out my window. Then I realized that my love would probably be offended if I essentially threw away his gift. After all, when he returned he’d probably want to see me enjoying all the fowl he’d so kindly bought me. Nevertheless, I was still confused. I visited the owner of the local pigeon coop if I could house my newly acquired blackbirds with the pigeons. The rent was outrageous, but they did have to be kept in a separate place than the rest of the pigeons. The owner said they’d fight otherwise. It sounded reasonable, so I paid up. I wondered if my love knew how much these gifts were costing me. I decided to name all my birds. The partridge was Jessica; the turtle doves were Jemima and Steve; the french hens were Minerva, Lavinia, and Louise; and the blackbirds were Samantha, Jason, Arthur, and Guinevere. There was absolutely no way I was going to be able to keep up with all the names, but it was better than calling them “hey, you bird.” They were all very noisy. I draped blankets over the cages as soon as I got home from work, just to make them shut up.
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Colly birds, by the way, are just blackbirds. Also, did anyone else ever read those children's books about the chicken named Minerva Louise? Those were some classics in my family.
One day I'm gonna get better at writing but for now here have this cringey miniseries *shoves this post at you*
See you tomorrow!
~~Zoë Wingfeather
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