Peckin’

woodpecker

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.

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Christmas tree in cart

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Christmas shopping is hard, man.

Well, the shopping part is kind of fun, in a festive tradition-y sort of way.

It’s the ideas – those are hard.  You’re on the spot, and no matter how well you know some people, when tasked to produce a single, paltry thought as to something – anything – they might enjoy or find useful, the best you can come up with is “uhhhhhh…

You know how it is.

But when you do find that perfect something – that’s the stuff, right there.  Yeah.  Then you take a few minutes to nod in self-congratulation, because you deserve it.  Good job, you.

I think I’m about halfway done.  That’s about…I’d say…around 50% less done than I’d like to be.  This year’s been trickier than others for some reason.  I think I just left my creativity in a box somewhere while moving, and still haven’t unpacked it yet.

Need to find that stuff.  Then I can get back to nodding.

 

Bene scribete.