October 20, 1996 (#15) (and before ...)

My sweet thrush neck kingfishers,

I try so hard to maintain my "up" outlook on life. Yet the events of the past few weeks, have somewhat transformed me into the Gorgon that you fear me to be.

As my sainted Abattoir says, "Revenge is a dish best served cold." Actually, someone else said it, but with the translation and all I have allowed him to hold himself out as the progenitor of this frank and sage phrase.

I love you all so dearly, it must be hard to imagine that I could harbor such evil thoughts, even while loving you at the same time. It's so religious right of me, I know. I'm not quite sure how I do it myself; must be a gift.

Allow me to just elaborate a small bit. First, Enemy of Trudy #1 (who most likely has no idea that I am talking to you nor do you even imagine the trouble you are about to face) an otherwise attractive human being with the self-esteem of a peanut who thus feels it is their job to make sure everyone else sinks lower. Sorry sister, I've been there and there's no time for that. BUT, when you mess with my girls, you will pay. You already have started, and as you'v found thus far, the cost is very dear. Think of it as early holiday cheer.

Now, spritely woodfinches, let me go on to say that this EoT #1, is a wounded bird themself in need of love and sweetness. While I may find it particularly distasteful at this moment to offer the succor that this wretchedness so desperately needs, I would consider you a lovely and compassionate people if you could help buoy them up and hopefully to lead a more pleasant and productive life. Preferably in Thailand.

And then there is Enemy of Trudy #2. Who I have quite forgotten about so completely consumed with fire for EoT #1. I suppose #2 was really no enemy at all. Even this hate now breeds love. Maybe there is hope for the Christian Coalition yet.

Ah yes, hate and religion have brought me back, I remember now. EoT#2, a large national publication, online and print, having spent millions of dollars in wooing me, has shunned me and in the interest of prospective business advantage, I dare not reveal them. However, my wrath has only begun and I will not rest til justice and my lost time is brought to bear. I expect to fill you all in completely in the coming month(s).

The neighbors have been relatively calm. The leaf blowing battles have started I'm sure, fortunately contract labor has saved me from becoming embroiled in bitter turf wars. Yes, I know it's a little lazy not to trudge through the lawn, rake in hand, communing with the sinking autumnal sun, but then again I prefer crunching the leaves and leaving the disposal angle to those more skilled than I am.

Neither Abattoir nor Lancelot could be coerced into helping in any event so I really had no choice. And as I said, I could feel pressure from the families around me. I fully expected to be barraged with requests and hard-line negotiations from the stalwart youth of my little cul-de-sac. Yet, I suppose that allowance inflation may have taken the place of extorting the neighbors for that extra few dollars. Then again, perhaps the little dears are just shy. Imagine.

So my exotic cockatiels (pronounced so completely differently from the way it looks), I just am a little slow on the news angle as I have simply been wrapped up in my own little troubles.

(Insert here, my fluffy chick-a-dees, the usual self-abasing paragraph about how this latest is late and how I will never do it again and how I firmly resolve to keep you up-to-date more frequently if only to stem the torrents of complaints.)

Well my dear robin redbreasts, I suppose it's off to make exotic popcorn balls for the barbarians. The really nice thing is that no parent would ever let their child eat such a non-commercially packaged item, that I don't really have to worry whether or not they are delicious. (But you know they are.) Lancelot loves them, but given his nature...

Until I can manage to say something nice,

P.S. Joe, I caught that line and I am accepting it as a compliment. BUT, I have never taken tootsie rolls from a man who was not introduced to me prior.

P.P.S And Missy Verlene, I certainly was not at the homeowners meeting and gave up my seat on the board when the trailer went on blocks in storage. I fully expected you to be a shoo-in, if you could just stay put for half a second. Chagrined to hear about Gran-pa-pa, but perhaps the time you spent with that perfect gentleman later one will at least offer some happy memories among the tragic.