Does anybody else talk to teabags? I found myself doing so some months ago but it was a while before it struck me that perhaps it was odd.
I don't have a full scale conversation with them, you understand. I don't expect a reply. I simply offer some reassurance when a particular crisis arises.
This only applies to those teabags that are Siamese twins, the sort that are joined in the middle. For some reason, I was making tea one day and extracted a single teabag from the caddy (caddy is a rather grand word for a semi-circular, ex sweet tin with skaters on the lid). Anyway, as I blithely ripped one teabag from its twin, I suddenly imagined its scream of terror, those awful pictures you see when family members are torn apart, holding up arms in supplication to be allowed to remain together. It was at this time that I found myself saying to the bereft teabag: 'Don't worry, it will be your turn next and then you will both be reunited on the compost heap.' Every story should have a happy ending.
So far I haven't actually enunciated my thoughts out loud - that would be silly, wouldn't it? Keep your thoughts to yourself is my advice for who knows what is going on the head next to you? Probably best left in ignorance.
Sunday, 29 January 2012
Wednesday, 25 January 2012
Trouble in the Neighbourhood
A turf war has broken out in the garden. In anticipation of spring, resident blue tits have been refurbishing the bird box and already lined it with moss. The peace of the neighbourhood was shattered this morning when a gang of marauding sparrows swooped into the garden and cast covetous eyes over the desirable residence.
The blue tits didn't give up easily. Latching onto the chest of a cock sparrow the incumbant gave him a meaningful peck before taking to the air with the tit still hanging onto his feathers. In their absence a hen sparrow ambushed a second blue tit in the act of claiming back the box. A cacophany of sound that was less than musical shattered the stillness of the morning.
As an observer, immediately human values come into play. The blue tits were there first, so surely they have a right of occupation? Sparrows are immediately labelled as aggressors, usurpers, interlopers, trouble makers. On the other hand, blue tits are commonplace in our garden whereas over the years sparrows have declined so that seeing one is something to remarked upon.
Everything is now silent. Have the sparrows given up and gone away? Have the blue tits barricaded themselves in and refused to come out? Perhaps bird life is too short to hang around rowing over a tiny piece of territory. It would be a loss though, if both families called it a day, leaving an empty, abandoned pied a terre. Meanwhile, I will just keep listening and looking.
The blue tits didn't give up easily. Latching onto the chest of a cock sparrow the incumbant gave him a meaningful peck before taking to the air with the tit still hanging onto his feathers. In their absence a hen sparrow ambushed a second blue tit in the act of claiming back the box. A cacophany of sound that was less than musical shattered the stillness of the morning.
As an observer, immediately human values come into play. The blue tits were there first, so surely they have a right of occupation? Sparrows are immediately labelled as aggressors, usurpers, interlopers, trouble makers. On the other hand, blue tits are commonplace in our garden whereas over the years sparrows have declined so that seeing one is something to remarked upon.
Everything is now silent. Have the sparrows given up and gone away? Have the blue tits barricaded themselves in and refused to come out? Perhaps bird life is too short to hang around rowing over a tiny piece of territory. It would be a loss though, if both families called it a day, leaving an empty, abandoned pied a terre. Meanwhile, I will just keep listening and looking.
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