I feel like I am being watched. There are little beady eyes on me when I leave the house. Actually there are little beady eyes watching me while I am in the house. The birds are not happy. The fly-by restaurant next door is temporarily shut for business what with Margaret in hospital. As a result there was a line-up of butcher birds on the back deck when I ventured upstairs this morning looking expectantly at me. This afternoon when I went to the mailbox it was the magpies. I feel mean but I do not fancy the same level of bird poo around my place as I see at Margaret's. Also, I know the birds are quite capable of feeding themselves and what they catch is doubtless better for them. So glare at me all you want birds, there's no food coming from this side of the fence.
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