(no subject)

[clo_again]

The freaking bird jumped out of the freaking box. I went down the Bay for an hour (it was insanely busy; way to go me for forgetting tourist attraction + weekend = crazy), came back fully expecting to find a dead bird but nope. Then just now while I was very determinedly ignoring the tennis by reading, heard mad fluttering and the damn thing was on the kitchen floor, looking around. Didn't have a bigger box - my brother who keeps everything, boxes included, fails at life for somehow not having anything to put a bird in - so ushered it very slowly into the big paper Fat Face bag. Which it promptly tried to tip over with more mad fluttering. (Have I mentioned that birds are very irritating?) So because it seemed averagely recovered and because keeping it in an unstable paper bag in a house with three cats pawing at the door was probably not the best way to help it, I took it to the canal (there's a really nice canal twenty seconds walk from my brother's house. Sometimes I don't believe him when he says he has no money) and left it in the bushes and long grass in one of the gardens that line the path.

Which was probably the wrong thing to do when there are a bazillion cats around here but what the hell else I was supposed to do with it... Nothing seemed broken, it was flapping like crazy in the bag and if it's going to die of shock, it'd probably rather do it out in the sunshine and bushes than on the floor of my brother's kitchen. It's doing better than most of the birds we've attempted to rescue over the years.

I'm fully aware that I'm letting myself freak out over the bird in order to distract myself from freaking out about the Wimbledon final. Stupid Bay being insanely busy so I couldn't sit in Starbucks. Bah.