You still don't know my name and you're always so cold

[sovay]

Rabbit, rabbit! We have a pigeon in our back porch. Presumably it is sheltering from the cold, having flown in like everyone else through the absence of door. spatch saw it this morning and reports that the dead bugs which normally cover the windowsill have inexplicably vanished. So as not to spook it, I did my best to photograph it through the kitchen window, hence the environment of multiple reflections. I hope it feels safe. Hestia has not yet noticed its existence.



I was reminded earlier this afternoon of the tartan that came out of a bog. It even looks as though it can be worn by people who can't trace their ancestry to bog bodies. Less pleasantly, I was reminded of an article about Tesla cars by reading about the Odysseus moon landing. I understand it really wasn't a wash, but "unqualified success" seems a strong translation of "even heroically last-minute engineering salvaged only partial data thanks to a major missed pre-flight checklist step among other inherent glitches." I would like to feel unmixedly cheerful about new space exploration and it's hard when it's all the same language of disruption and innovation that data-scrapes my life and makes my city less and less habitable.

For reasons that are not medically mystifying, the significantly blurred vision in one eye with which I have been dealing for the last week is my new normal for the foreseeable future. I am not looking for advice; it should resolve without complications; I am just complaining, especially since it interferes most with my ability to look at screens. I have been recommended to black out one lens of my glasses with gauze and tape. Seriously an eyepatch seems more dashing and less trouble.

Comments

[moon_custafer]

I see them (feral pigeons) all around the city, but I’m particularly amused by the ones that live in the subway stations. They come and go frequently in search of twigs and leaf stems for nesting materials, and if the sliding doors are open they just fly through and down the stairwell. If the doors are closed they land on the ground and wait to walk through with the next human. Occasionally I’ve seen them get on and off trains in the same manner, though usually only if somebody’s dropped some kind of baked good on the floor of the train.

[sovay]

Occasionally I’ve seen them get on and off trains in the same manner, though usually only if somebody’s dropped some kind of baked good on the floor of the train.

We have pigeons in the stations and tunnels of the T, too, and pigeons mingling with commuters are the best. (I also once met a commuter cockroach which I hope survived rush hour and lived long and happily away from people's feet.)

[moon_custafer]

pigeons mingling with commuters are the best

They’re so matter-of-fact about it!

I also once met a commuter cockroach

I’m afraid the one cockroach I recall seeing out in public was dead on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant, which left me amused/worried about the probability quality of the food, assuming said cockroach had been one of their customers.

[sovay]

I’m afraid the one cockroach I recall seeing out in public was dead on the sidewalk in front of a restaurant, which left me amused/worried about the probability quality of the food, assuming said cockroach had been one of their customers.

That does sound like some kind of vaudeville routine.