Woody, Woody, cut it out.
   Please don’t make me have to shout.
Woody, Woody, go away.
   Please don’t be a dick today.
Woody, Woody, that’s enough.
   Please don’t bang upon my stuff.
Woody, Woody, can’t you see
   That my house is not a tree?

I awoke yesterday to a strange knock – couldn’t tell if it was coming from inside or outside.  Thought it might have been a neighbor doing some yard work, but the cadence wasn’t reflective of any productive human activity I could think of, and it almost sounded like it was coming from inside the wall.

I went outside to find a cheeky woodpecker perched on the decorative trim on the side of my house, banging away at the stucco.  I reached down to pick up a snowball to throw at it, but when I looked back up it was gone.

It came back later.

And then again this morning.

Frowny face.

Bene scribete.