Well, being 27 is going well so far–two brown-headed nuthatches, which I rarely see, since the white-breasted ones chase ’em off, and what must be a juvenile downy woodpecker being fed by its parent. And having finally refilled and repaired the finch sock, the goldfinches returned at once and are hopping around being gratuitously yellow.
Some snazzy birthday gifts from my parents, mostly tea related, but nothing can top the Encyclopedia, which I read cover to cover last night in glee. So many wonderfully traumatic memories! Woot! The bay-kok, a Cherokee monster shaped like a skeleton with red eyes and covered in thin transparent skin, which would come upon sleeping hunters, cut a tiny, painless slit in their chest, and then eat part of their stomach so that they waste away and die. Jinni, half wolf, half hyena (good lord, maybe that’s what Ed’s tribe is), Leshy and Nuckelavee and Tengu and Tarasques and all the other things that probably helped warp my brain into the peculiar shape it is today.
And my sea hag painting, that I was so delighted with t’other day, met with great approval from my art director, particularly the monkey. And got the next Digger done. So all in all, an excellent morning and a fine start to the next year of my life.*
*Having so blatantly tempted fate, I will now be caught in a freak rain of anvils.