Walking home from the hardware store, we passed a little pond.
Eli: Let’s stop and look for birds.
Julie: Ok.
Eli: There’s one.
Julie: That’s a crow. [Crow flies into a tree.]
Eli: He’s lonely.
Julie: Maybe he just wants some quiet time.
Eli: No, he’s lonely. Look, he’s waiting for some other birds to come along.
Julie: He looks pretty happy. I bet he’s just getting a little peaceful time to sit and think.
Eli: No, he’s lonely. I hear some other birds. His friends will be here soon.
Julie: Alllllright. Let’s keep walking.
It is like me and “my” cows. Why is the mother walking away from her calf? That calf hasn’t moved in a long time, is it dead? Is that why the mother walked away? Is that cow giving birth? Is she OK?
Ok, ok, they are not your cows! Do not get emotionally involved with them. And then Farmer Morgan tells me one of them cannot breed so is headed off to the…..oh no, which one? Oh I liked her. Sob.
Love it, that post and your comment, Clog. Especially since I have forever had a habit of projecting emotion/feelings/whatever the word is to inanimate objects. I STILL cannot throw away a sock that has lost its other half and has been in my drawer for six years. Cleaning up the kids’ stuffed animals: none may be allowed to dangle uncomfortably by a foot or paw, or have its head wedged between the basket and the wall. When I discard my contact lenses every month or so, I have to put them together, wrapped carefully in damp tissue paper (so the dryness doesn’t kill them immediately, and so they go off to the afterworld together). TMI, yes, but there you go.
Mom, you’re so television-deprived you’ve made the cows into your own soap opera!
Sutswana, now I’m going to be all worried about leaving random jackets or bowls at your house. Worried that you’ll think poorly of me, I mean. Not worried about the objects, obviously, because it’s clear you’ll take good care of them.
what I think is hilarious is that Julie’s crow wants alone time, and Eli’s crow needs companionship. read in relationship to the “tips are lousy” post, it’s like what my mom darkly hints about all art/things created: they’re all self-portraits, somehow. even crow-persona making. yikes!
Right, yes, exactly, that was really the whole point. I’m always seeing loner birds as revelling in their solitude, and Eli is looking for the party. At one point I would have searched for the party too, but now I just want to hide in the bathroom and not be touched by anyone.