Yesterday found me filling orders, wrapping Idgy's prezzies (being Santa!) and dealing with a bird issue. Yes, one of our feathered friends had decided it was time to flutter down the chimny and into the stove. I heard this scratching noise and immediately thought the dreaded word 'mouse', no thank God, just a bird in the stve. Luckily stove wasn't lit. Anyway, l did the honourable thing by shutting cats out of room so they wouldn't have in-house-sports, and carefully opened stove door. No sign of bird, hmmmmm, l put hand in to feel at the back, and swooooosh bird flies past my face and hundreds of miles an hour.
Bird flies straight into kitchen and starts doing wall-of-death round the room. The bird shit is everywhere. Do l panic, what do you think? Leap around kitchen in futile attempt to catch bird.Open windows. Launch myself at bird armed with tea towel to throw over it in style of vets on African safari programmes. Bird smartly dodges tea towel and hops down behind the sink.
Now we have a problem. I have visions of dead bird smelling less than fragrant as it rots behind the sink cupboards. I collect my trusty tool kit and spend 40 minutes removing the front facings and kick boards from the sink. Lie on floor and feel around in all the collected dust etc to find blasted bird. Not there. No, of course not. While l am prostrate on the floor trying to rescue the ungrateful creature, he has calmly hopped out the back of the sink unharmed. Stagger to feet and rush to the back door. Open door, rush at bird. Bird takes one look at this dust covered, stressed out mad woman and quite sensibly flies out of the door.
Spend next hour trying to work out how to put the sink cupboard back together again. Lucky it was only a starling, anything bigger might have ended in the aga for Christmas dinner.