Delusional Birds, Birthdays and Living in a Fantasy World

Last night I was sitting in front of the computer, working up a sweat trying to sort the ins and outs of digg, Technorati and when I heard an odd sound coming from the birdcage. It's not unusual for Merlin, our cockateil, to sit in front of his mirror and chatter away to his imaginary friend. If you listen close you can usually make out what he's saying, but last night he sounded muffled.. or something. When I went to investigate I found him with his entire head stuck in a treat bowl, talking up a storm. When I asked him what he was doing, he popped his head out and looked at me as if to say "Watch this.. it's the coolest thing EVER!" then stuck his head back in the bowl and went back to his conversation.

Bless his heart. He's finally cracked.

It's Friday (yay!) which means Bossman is still out of the office, but Bubbles is back. She's sportin' a new hairdo and feelin' frisky. Here's hoping she's too busy from being off yesterday to cause much commotion.

Tomorrow is Ma's birthday. I'm planning to run out to civilization this evening to get my hair cut so I'll probably stop and pick up a cake of some kind, maybe some flowers. The grocery store next to the salon (ok I use the word "salon" loosely, it's actually one of those bargain basement-no appointment-let me sell you some over priced hair care products- places) sells Carvel cakes. There was a Carvel store in Norfolk, in a skanky little shopping center just off Military Hwy. Although you can buy them here, in the grocery stores, they just don't taste the same as they did fresh from the Carvel store.


Anyone who's visited Hidden Mahala for any length of time knows that in quiet moments I occupy my mind with fantasy stories of how my life would be in other places and times. Lately it's been a little house near the beach. Not on the water but where I can see it from the second floor bedroom window. There's horses too, three, rescued from the Premarin farms. My dogs would have a huge fenced in yard to run in. I'd rescue ferral cats from the pound for barn cats, they'd live in the run-in shed I'd have for the horses. There's a farmer's market nearby where I can buy fresh produce on a regular basis, maybe sell them horse poop for fertilizer, make a little money on the side. I'd support all this by writing on the internet so I wouldn't have to leave the house unless I chose to. Why not? It's all fantasy anyway. I think I could be happy living that way.

Ah well..

It's Earth Day, so hug a tree, plant a flower, wiggle your toes in the sand, let the salty ocean air kiss your cheek...... Love the Mother.


Tori Lennox said...

ROFL re Merlin!

Your fantasy house near the beach sounds heavenly!

Bert said...

I'm not so sensitive as to hug a tree - though Someone admitted to having tried it once.

Mmm! Is that fresh cat poo I smell?

kenju said...

I like the sound of that beach place. You ever get there, I'm coming to visit!

Mahala said...

tori: the bird is nuts lol

bert: for the record.. it's horse poo. I happen to love the smell of a horse barn.

kenju: The place I have in mind is actually over on your end of the state :)