The Saturday Curse

So, last Saturday was a big day. I spent a good part of the day in a tv studio out in the western suburbs, taping a talk show about writing and publishing. Cool stuff. When I got home from that, I thought I would have an hour or two to knit and unwind.

No such luck.

We have the worst golfers on our course. I swear, it's like they give a special rate to anyone who can't tell a nine iron from a tire iron. As I was changing out of my tv clothes and checking email and so on, I heard a crash. Thought a golfer had probably hit one of the contraband tomato pots on the patio and shattered the planter.

They hit something a little north of the planter.
























There went my knitting time. I had to go to the golf clubhouse to report it, where that nasty woman who works in the golf clubhouse amply demonstrated why all the residents refer to her as "that nasty woman who works in the golf clubhouse." It took forever, got me nowhere, and I'm still annoyed over how difficult she was.

But that was last week. This week, I thought I would get an hour or two of knitting time on Saturday after I finish up some line edits and a revision letter. But I woke to the sounds of an unexpected visitor who was imitating Santa Clause and coming down my chimney.





















This poor little morning dove has had quite a difficult day. It got its foot caught in the mesh that hangs over the glass windows, finally worked free, and took a rest on the kindling. Thanks to all the facebookers and twitterati who gave me tips on how to get it out of the fireplace. As you can see, opening the fireplace doors didn't persuade it to leave. It just sat there and watched me for a while. It seemed very dazed.

So I got an old towel and thought I would wrap the bird in the towel and carry it outside. Of course, it took one look at the towel and freaked. Me, it would tolerate. The towel? OMG, utter terror. It flew up the chimney, then somehow out the fireplace door, all over my house, into the ceiling a few times (ouch) and finally came to rest on an umbrella stand in the front hall. You would think with all it's blind, frantic flight, it might have accidentally managed to go through one of the doors I'd opened, but no such luck.

While it was on the umbrella stand, I was able to get the towel around it and carry it outside, where it sat on my railing for a good hour and a half. I was afraid it might be hurt, so I sat out there and talked to it and put out some bits of bread. Me, it tolerated. But as soon as it saw the bread, it flew to the roof. It's still on the roof, but I figure if it could fly up there, it should be okay. Just needs a bit of recovery time.

Anyway, that's two Saturdays in a row where my hope for knitting time was dashed by odd occurrences at the house. Wonder what next Saturday will hold.