Earlier this evening I was sitting outside in the miserable heat bitching to myself about how it's only early June and it's already hot and sticky. I wondered whose bright idea it was to not allow smoking inside the house, but then I remembered it was mine so I had to change the mental subject lest I get pissed off at myself, because that is a lose-lose situation. As I was wondering how my husband would feel about relocating to Siberia, something landed with a plop on my basil plant. Upon closer inspection I could see that a bird just shat on my herbs.
I was not pleased by this turn of events, but what can you do? So I sat and thought about the excretory processes of local wildlife, as you do, and eventually began to wonder how squirrels eliminate their bodily garbage. I've never seen one pop a squat, but obviously they do. Then I thought about the times that I've been sitting outside and felt a light mist fall, but there have been no clouds in the sky. It clearly wasn't rain; could it have been squirrel wee? Oof.
Anyway, the basil situation could have been much worse, of course. It's bird poo, not nuclear fallout. But the idea of some fresh pesto just lost a lot of its appeal.
I was not pleased by this turn of events, but what can you do? So I sat and thought about the excretory processes of local wildlife, as you do, and eventually began to wonder how squirrels eliminate their bodily garbage. I've never seen one pop a squat, but obviously they do. Then I thought about the times that I've been sitting outside and felt a light mist fall, but there have been no clouds in the sky. It clearly wasn't rain; could it have been squirrel wee? Oof.
Anyway, the basil situation could have been much worse, of course. It's bird poo, not nuclear fallout. But the idea of some fresh pesto just lost a lot of its appeal.
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