All at once, we seem to have birds. Oodles of birds. Battalions of birds. They’re absolutely everywhere. And I’m not feeding them, or doing anything else out of the ordinary. In an ordinary year, I get a few bluejays, and some cardinals. Possibly a robin or two. This is almost clouds of birds lifting off when you walk through the back yard. I think they’re sparrows. They might be swallows. (They’re definitely brown.) They have the bunnies well and truly outnumbered. I’m hoping they’re here to liberate the neighbors’ chickens, and not to take over the world.

Flying sentinels of death-poop.

I like birds and birds like me. Hang on while I put on a rain hat.

I’m beginning to think about Halloween, and what this year is going to look like. Probably me making goodie bags for the kids I actually know, and calling it good. Which means… I have to actually count the children I know, and figure out how to do that. I’m not even sure how you define “children I know.” Coworkers’ kids? Friends kids? How old? Apparently the seasonal kit-kat flavor is marshmallow? No, calling it witches’ brew and dying it green does not help. That’s a pandemic flavor. I just feel that we can do better there.

Costumes? Is there even a point in costumes? I was thinking about the makeup I have leftover from (uhm… when?) And thinking about things I could do with it. Welll, shoot. Makeup. Yeah.

And then, Nanowrimo is just around the corner. That’s an introvert’s holiday, if ever there was one.