The mysterious world of the oleander hedge

The Baronet and his lady are at the feeder pretty much all of the time now. I thought she’d be nesting by now, but maybe we really are that far behind in the weather.

Mysterious World Of the Oleander Hedge

Last summer, they had three nests (or I think that they did) but now, not even sitting on May 10th. Wow. Of course, I have no real idea of what goes on in the oleander hedge. I just guess at the whole thing.

Simon, who is actually very much bigger than the napkin basket (it’s only 8″ square) has apparently been turning himself into a 8″ square to sleep in it. I found him yesterday with his head tucked straight down into one corner, fitting neatly into the little cube.

I will have to remember this habit of his next time I go to get a napkin. Fortunately I fold them into squares that are exactly the size of the napkin basket, so only the top serviette has been blessed with direct proximity to Simon’s nether regions.

Simon in the Napkins

He was so zogged out that he didn’t even hear me in the dining room, shipping books for four hours straight, listening to music, and spontaneously swearing at the rudeness of the woman who didn’t even say “thank you” when I emailed her to let her know I was replacing her missing book at my own expense, even though she had the wrong address on her order form, and, by definition, it was not remotely my problem. Of course I sent her a new one, with all of the extras too. That’s how I roll. She remained rude.

One of the privileges of working for minimum wage is that I don’t have to work for the very small minority of people who mistake me (or George Martin) for their bitch. However, a Vol II order did come in a few weeks ago from one of the people on my Do Not Accept Orders From This Rude Person list, and I found that I was so averse to the idea of communicating with her, even to make her go away, that I just sighed, and left it. But she’s in there, like an eggshell in the omelette, an ant in the tea.

My system failed. Or, perhaps more precisely, I failed my system.

Today, I might be able to get in a half-day of beading. My Zigged Wing necklet is coming along beautifully, and I’m looking forward to photographing it in the glorious, clear, lumen-loaded Arizona air.

Also, I have two boxes to open, I saved them for this morning like treats. One is beadwork from Vee Pretorius, an incredible work of art for photography, and the other is a box of BEADS. Kilos, tubes… new colours. Bliss. But best yet, to start my day completely right, I got a text at 5:00 a.m. from Liam, who forgot about the two-hour time difference (I was up anyway of course) and he was texting to tell me that he downloaded some of my Beck, and it was groovy.

4 thoughts on “The mysterious world of the oleander hedge

  1. Your Tulip needles should have arrived by now as well. They were dropped at your front door, according to UPS.

  2. Jesus, I dearly hope you are not talking about me! I thank you (profusely) for fixing all my orders, and doing it gracefully:)

    • I don’t seem to recall you giving the wrong address when you ordered, and then failing to say “thank you” when a nice writer who earns minimum damn wage on a good day with the wind behind her sent out another $50 package out to you at her own expense.

      I’m also smarting from a couple of stunningly rude Germans and Brits. My shit list has swollen to about 15 people. Out of 2000, that is NOT BAD AT ALL.

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