A squirrel napped in the mulberry tree again this afternoon, but had been there no more than ten minutes when the guy next door came home and caused commotion which drove the squirrel away. He has tiny feet. The guy next door, I mean (the squirrel has tiny feet, too, but that's a given.) He was wearing a pair of those sneakers that are thick and rubbery, and his feet are so tiny that even those thick, rubbery shoes looked small. I'd never before noticed how tiny his feet are. Deer have tiny feet, too, but they get four of them. The guy next door has only two, so it makes me marvel at how he doesn't fall over all the time. He's like a ballet dancer, but without the interesting moves. He'd be more entertaining if he'd do the occasional pirouette or battement fondu.
Less than two hours remain before the next attempt is made to rip my head from my body, rending and tearing all the various mechanisms in my neck. I hope I feel better after this violence. I'm beginning to get some serious soreness in my lower back as well. This might be due to the tension that results from trying not to further dislocate my neck. Physical existence sort of bites sometimes. As I'm watching the blue jays perform their antics in the front yard, it occurs to me that they are lucky to have such short life spans. They don't live long enough to develop all these irritating malfunctions. Eventually they just get eaten by a hawk or a cat. Stupid birds get all the breaks.