EASY LIKE SUNDAY MORNING

Sunday morning has always been my favorite time of the week. Of course now that I am retired most of my mornings can be spent like Sunday watching the Today show, Oprah and the View but something is different.

The Sunday routine slightly changes over the years, like taking the dog out in the freezing snow before coffee or doing the crossword on the computer instead of the newspaper but the basics are still the same. Hot coffee, staying in pjs until noon or after, watching Meet the Press and Chris Matthews and waiting patiently for the winter Bears games and summer Sox first pitch. All routine, all quiet and relaxing. Until last Sunday!!!



It started out like a normal Sunday as described above. I was sitting at the kitchen table, watching the start of Meet the Press. David Gregory is ok but I still miss Tim Russert. Baby chewing on a toy next to me. Norman Rockwell we are not. All of a sudden Baby jumps up, starts howling, barking and running around like a crazed animal. As I looked up, heading toward us from the front room was this huge bird. I was told later it was just a regular sparrow. but coming at you in your own house it looked like an eagle. The dog is out of her mind!!!! I grab her leash while ducking the bird and try to catch her so she doesn't have a heart attack. Once I had her on the leash and I have now lost track of where the eagle has landed, do I call 911. No I will call the great hunters upstairs. Someone please come and get Baby before she loses her mind and someone please come and get this unwanted guest out of my house. The troops head south.



Matthew grabs Baby and heads upstairs and Steve the bird catcher tracks the bird. Of all places to land is in my bathroom. My pride and joy beautiful bathroom. With broom and towel in hand, Steve the bird catcher closes the door behind him and the eagle and now the fun begins.

Just picture a movie with Steve Martin locked in a room with 2 or 3 huge wild tigers. OK now you got it. Crash, bang, squawk, squeal, and that was just Steve. Kim and I standing on the outside of the door, brave as we are, we are lol. The bird would not land. A flying bird could not be caught. Finally success. Wrapped in a towel the little sparrow was escorted out the front door.



When quiet came across the land I headed in to clean up the mess. Nothing broken but everything was knocked over and boy when a bird gets trapped with no place to go they really go and go and go. I was scrubbing and scrubbing and scrubbing. What a mess!!!



Now you ask yourselves "How did a bird get in her house". Some of you know about the hole in my living room ceiling and some of you don't. The ones who don't may never know. It's just too old a story. Anyway it had to have made it's way from someplace under the eaves or whatever those things are called and headed to the hole in my ceiling. Needless to say the hole is covered so they can't get in my house, I would never be able to sleep again, until the hole in the side of the building is fixed so they can't get in the building.



The memory of last Sunday's wild life escapades makes this Sunday's springtime snowstorm a Hallmark setting. Not. I hate snow.

And thanks to Steve the Bird Catcher and his crew upstairs, they are always there during my Change of Life moments. Whatever they are.