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I was complaining to my neighbor that I have to get up every morning about 5AM to close the bedroom windows because the birds are tweating to loud for me to sleep. She sent me this poem which I thought was hysterical.

I woke early one morning,

The earth lay cool and still

When suddenly a tiny bird

Perched on my window sill,

He sang a song so lovely

So carefree and so gay,

That slowly all my troubles

Began to slip away.

He sang of far off places

Of laughter and of fun,

It seemed his very trilling,

brought up the morning sun.

I stirred beneath the covers

Crept slowly out of bed,

And gently lowered the window

And crushed his frigging head.

(Now, you all should know me well enough to know I would never do that, right?)

-- Anonymous, April 30, 2001



Good one, debra.

Well, look at it this way, at least it's not a neighbor's blaring car stereo waking you at that time of day. That used to happen to me when I lived in town and it drove me nuts! Made me want to do more than slam a window on their heads...

But your poem was still funny, though. (grin)

-- Anonymous, April 30, 2001

Good one Debra, I'd been meaning to post something about the things we complain about on the homestead. In reality many of them tell us how great life really is. The birds singing too loud is a good one! We've caught ourselves complaining of the bread being too fresh to cut, having too many eggs, meat being too tender to slice, so much spinach that we'll have to freeze some, freezers being so full of meat that we can't find anything in them, etc etc.

-- Anonymous, April 30, 2001

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