Birdie-call
Posted on April 24, 2009 - Filed Under self reflect
It’s interesting what keeps a mind busy at night. I was up late last night, doing my wind down on the computer, talking with Gary, surfing and writing retorts and exclamations after friend posts. After my 10pm class is always a bit busy for me… my head processing and thinking, and the usual array of contemplation and consideration of all the interactions I have had with students. I usually call Monica on the rides back and that usually helps wind me down. Since Gary was up last night, watching a movie… I farted around online then went to bed… teeth clean, face washed, pillows tucked in around me where I like support. There I lay, window open, cool breeze… and it started:
“Tweet-twiddle Tweet-twiddle… twitteroo twitteroo… twiddle-de-too twiddle-de-too…twitteroo twitteroo… Tee Tee Tee Tee Tee…Tweet-twiddle twitteroo roo roo roo…” (You get the picture?)
Now, I LOVE listening to birds. And most birds have a song that is redundant and soothing. Not unlike the frogs in our oasis pond… chirping and croaking continuously. I can deal with that just fine. I love it and it is a summer lullaby that is one of my favorites. BUT, this little bloke was busy singing an entire opera, or love song, like there was no tomorrow. 12:48am and he starts up like the sun was shining off a brilliant day! At first, I thought, how cute… but as I dosed off here and there, the shifts in his song got my mind going…. as if someone was trying to make conversation over a bad cell phone connection. I struggled as my brain tried to make sense of what he was saying. I moaned.
“What’s wrong?” asks my Metal Head Adonis…
“You have GOT to be kidding me?” I grumble.
“What?”
“Listen to that racket! Doesn’t he know it’s a THURSDAY night? That bird outside is singing a love song or something!” I toss about on the bed for emphasis.
My hubby snickers – one of those “aren’t you cute” snickers and announces, “That bird must be horny cause that’s a birdie-call!”
I laugh, and grumble at the same time, “Well, I need some sleep – it’s 1am!”
As usual, Hubby snockers right off to sleep. Nothing phases that man unless it is me snoring. I readjust pillows and try again to ignore the little SOB.
“Twoot-twiddle Twoot-twiddle… treee treee… twiddle-de-too twiddle-de-too…twitteroo twitteroo… Tee Tee Tee Tee Tee…Tweet-twiddle twit teree ree ree ree…”
But then it gets worse, cause now the frogs and toads decide they need to get in on it for my benefit. So I start hearing intermittent croaks and churts between his anthem birdie call. Flustered, I get up and stand at the window, curmudgeonly gazing out at the darkness and growing noise. I decide to trail on down stairs and do some more surfing. My brain isn’t going anywhere trying to figure out the conversation. And, in my stubbornness I refuse to close the bedroom windows.
I even posted on True Colors: “I love birds, but got this little guy out here singing love songs for over an hour and a half, and if being up beyond my bedtime didn’t give me a tremendous headache I would put words to his music.”
At the stroke of 2am, the little guy had turned the cool quiet evening into a complete block party, I thought of my sister and her mediation for animal control. Can you call the cops on a bird disturbing the peace? I mean, really?
Eventually I dragged myself upstairs to give sleep yet another opportunity to convince me to follow. I decided I would just let my mind make conversation with Mr. Bird, and that it did. I know eventually I trailed off into sleep with a clear sense of what Mr. Bird was singing about (I just don’t remember it – that’s what I get for not sleeping enough!)
I did NOT wake up refreshed this morning. In fact, I slept until 9:30am, crawled out of bed with an internet hangover, and stumbled into the office to decide on the first morning tasks. I noticed that it was pretty quiet outside. I imagined Mr. Busy-body sleeping in his tree, maybe grumbling at the distant noise of lawn mowers and delivery trucks. Groggy eyelids under a protective wing as he carries on sleeping after the all-nighter he pulled.
Seriously, I almost went outside to chant and bark with Gizmo – teach him a lesson. But, what would the neighbors say? Frankly, my howling is hardly a bootie-call.
Comments
4 Responses to “Birdie-call”
I stand corrected. My MHA says it’s a birty-call not a birdie-call.
You mean a birdy booty call? Maybe he had just flown in from Europe and was jet-lagged wide-awake at 2 a.m. I’m not sure mediation with a bird would be so effective. Birds aren’t very good listeners!
Evelyn – this was really funny. I have a similar story….When my Grandmother was very sick in the hospital, my mother, sister and myself were staying in her apartment in Brooklyn one weekend. It was about this time of year, also. There was a bird in a tree that just would not stop. 11pm, midnight, 1 am…still going and going. I could hear my mother tossing and turning in the next room so I peeked in and said something like “can you freakin believe this??!” So we tried everything from throwing things out the window, trying to scare it out of the tree (which was below us), to actually yelling out the window. All the while hysterical laughing at the irony of being in BROOKLYN and being kept awake by a bird. The best part…my sister slept through the whole thing. 🙂 Jen Turner
Jennifer – that is SO FUNNY!! Having baby-sat you all, it doesn’t surprise me that Kathleen would sleep through it. Monica probably would also! I so appreciate you reading my blog and taking time to comment (makes me feel good – like a warm NY s’more!)