The muse stirs not. I have fallen off the wagon.
But, it has been two weeks since my last post and I have a humorous little anecdote to relay, so I'm using it to get goin'.
I was attacked by crows today. Is was my own fault. I knew they were in attack mode. I have watched the crows over the months of my daily lunch walks to the konbini, and they definitely go through these combative phases. I saw them attack a jogger on my way to 7/11, so I knew it was one of those days. But on my way back through the park I was on autopilot, taking my usual route, which goes straight through crow territory. These are big crows. The first time I was swooped upon, I blew it off and kept walking. I was quickly swooped upon again, so I went in the other direction, now running a little, and the third time the crow came down at me I could feel his claws on my head, I squeaked out a scream, and I was full out running. If you had seen me from a distance, you would've laughed, and you would've been right to laugh.
At this point I had a moment to regroup. I regained my senses and was ready to whoop some crow ass. It was time to show that crow who's human and who's a dirty bird. I took my purse from around my neck and shoulder and held it, nay, wielded it, ready for the crow. But he didn't come.
Looking back, it was probably smart that I didn't re-enter the battlefield, but part of me would've liked to see who came out of the fight on top. And what a story I would have!... "I once whopped crow ass with my purse. He never looked at me the same, out of those beady little eyes."
Oh, well. Maybe next time. When the crows are feeling bellicose, I'll be ready.