Bush eggs: one. Nest box eggs: none. Feed hopper: half full. Contemplative thoughts: many.
I was talking to Jack about the possibility of a career in film but he easily dissuaded me by reminding me that my place is here as mother, grandmother and advisor to the flock.
I must say that a large part of me was relieved that I was appreciated and acknowledged, though a very small part of me is sad at the thought of paths never taken. Jack even apologized sincerely for not being supportive of my recent performance. He said it was hard for him to concentrate as he has such a basic, one-track mind. He’s not wrong! Maybe I should write poems about sex??
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