The Stinky Birds

Dear K.C.

The birds you insist on asking about are the Aero Summerbeaches. They are not nice at all and they smell unbelievably rotten. You don't want to come into contact with those fellows. The best thing about them is that they like post-Curtains delicacies. The worst thing about them is that they will hang around during a Curtains event talking about who gets the first pickings. This is very uncomforting for the Curtainsee.

But I have to disagree about the furniture. I mean you have a finite amount of furniture in the house there, and you have no idea how much furniture is out here in the Great World. Not all of it is attached, you know. And even the trees fall down eventually. But there is a perfectly wonderful city of buckets and skids and rakes and tarps and even an old heater housing out behind the shed. Just when you get your tunnels all figured out, they come out and do gardening or lawn cutting and everything is all stirred up.

I wish it were like the old days. My grandfather had a great place with a southwest exposure here for a couple of years. A down spout came off the front of the house and no one bothered it for years. It lay just behind the Rhodies, so he told us, and still had the little right turn end attached. Too small for anyone as big as you to enter, and long enough that R.S. wouldn't slither very well through there. Grandmunk could scurry from either end out the other in no time flat. And it was water proof, he said, and right next to the bird feeding place. During the winter sunflower seeds were delivered to the front door. Green Thumb and Grandmunk had a good understanding about that.

But they weeded this spring and took the downspout back to the woods. Now it's lying so that rain comes in and no one wants to live there. And it's right under the hickory nut fallout. You could get deaf in a hurry in there.

If you could tell Green Thumb something for me: ask her if she could put a pipe back out under the Rhodies. I would like to come to an understanding about sunflower seeds too. When will she start delivering, I mean, to the birds...and would she consider putting a small handful at the end of the pipe? Then it could be like the old days. Winter is cold and bleak, and it's coming...

Hopefully, Chippy

Oh Yes, I Know That Family

Dear Chippy,

There's this person on TV that is named Summerbeach. My humans keep watching the Phillies and while they clap and cheer for Utley and Howard and Rowand, they are always down on Summerbeach. I think his first name is Godown

There are politicians in that family too. But I didn't know that You Know Who (not mentioning names of long slithering characters outside) was from that family.

I am sorry about your relative-- as I said before it is not the optimum way to experience Curtains -- I can think of nicer ways for a chipmunk to move on. But let's talk about something else; my mouth is beginning to water.

I would like to know about the woods. Everyone gets to go there except me.

And what are those very large birds that hang around across the street?

Chutteringly, K.C.

I Saw You Out The Window Today

Dear Chippy,

I was just looking out that side window -- you know the one that overlooks the kitchen garden -- at the birds and bugs and there you were, all striped and sleek.

I can see it's been a good summer for you in some ways, even though it has been hot. I heard them talking in here about the big trap Jim and his drinking buddies made next door and they said how they hoped you were not stuck in there under Jim's shed. He's such a misrodentist; in fact he's a misfaunaist! I notice that the wire mesh he put all around the bottom of the shed was too fine for that big Rat Snake to get through. In either direction! They said he was pumping some sort of gas underneath once they got it sealed off. We all hoped everyone got out before the lockdown. (Even that sneaky R.S., though I am sure your daily grind would be easier without him around.)

I mean, I know in my bones what it's like under a shed-- all dry and musky smelling. My eyes were not yet really opened when I lived under our shed, but it was really a risky business yelling for help that day my mother went away. I yelled at Brinks and he sniffed me and yelled back. I thought it was Curtains then, but it was really the Beginning of Life in many ways for me.

Anyway, I am glad to see you are fat and shiny. If I were allowed outside I'd run after you and probably catch you. Of course, you are used to being pursued by my family out there and I know how certain activities remind one of Curtains, so you would probably not be very friendly. But if I ever met you face to face I would try to remember your station in life as a member of our extended family -- much the same way that Pimmy and Brinks try to remember that I am not prey in here.


Appreciating your sleekness, K.C.