tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post7387882943128057277..comments2023-11-05T03:56:08.325-08:00Comments on Murrmurrs: O. CrapMurr Brewsterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comBlogger53125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-90610965067632689602012-06-23T16:09:41.674-07:002012-06-23T16:09:41.674-07:00Love the ending. the cat's tail has a story to...Love the ending. the cat's tail has a story too.Heidrun Khokhar, KleinsteMottehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16174142810114806410noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-78471969265551819902012-06-20T07:22:20.530-07:002012-06-20T07:22:20.530-07:00a wonderful post! well-deserved POTW!a wonderful post! well-deserved POTW!TexWisGirlhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13641962051044162710noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-56672158982765584452012-06-19T09:48:51.630-07:002012-06-19T09:48:51.630-07:00They sit on eggs for a MONTH? Remember that New Yo...They sit on eggs for a MONTH? Remember that New Yorker cartoon of the bald eagle yelling at its chick? "Listen, mister, I didn't sit on your hard egg for three weeks in the blazing sun to hear you say, 'ew, I don't LIKE regurgitated yak meat!'"Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-28667237903324685532012-06-19T09:40:18.599-07:002012-06-19T09:40:18.599-07:00Ha I know the feeling. I missed the hatching of go...Ha I know the feeling. I missed the hatching of goslings from the eggs I'd watched over for more than a month. Thankfully, my son's girlfriend found them for me and snapped a few shots while I was out of town. Your chickadee tale is a delight and a hoot. I hope they return for round two.Hilaryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12787493532006658679noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-73487818253403922022012-06-18T20:21:47.241-07:002012-06-18T20:21:47.241-07:00Try it again now. You can end a story any old wher...Try it again now. You can end a story any old where.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-39004445259607842562012-06-18T19:01:45.414-07:002012-06-18T19:01:45.414-07:00In third grade, every single "story" I w...In third grade, every single "story" I wrote in Mrs. Plunkett's class ended up with "Well, I think I hear my mother calling, so I have to go before I end this tale." She kindly pulled me aside to encourage me to do something more creative. I don't know what I did after that. I was lost without that line.Kathttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18207121540248325766noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-71548222972476545152012-06-18T09:31:57.731-07:002012-06-18T09:31:57.731-07:00He is begging me to let him make that out of plexi...He is begging me to let him make that out of plexiglass. I would love that too but somehow I think the chickadees would not. I would be happy to stand corrected. I really want to watch them crash in there on top of all those birdies.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-73319075028489503482012-06-18T09:30:50.125-07:002012-06-18T09:30:50.125-07:00Here's a plan.Here's a <a href="http://www.coveside.biz/chickadee-house-plans.htm" rel="nofollow">plan.</a>Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-28937556252780444902012-06-18T09:28:47.360-07:002012-06-18T09:28:47.360-07:00You is.You is.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-71243858982931220272012-06-18T09:28:30.341-07:002012-06-18T09:28:30.341-07:00There's got to be a good story about the irony...There's got to be a good story about the irony of trying not to write an O. Henry story. Hey, Nance, welcome back, darlin'! Yuh, I recovered all but 500 words of the novel by scooping out my own brain pan, and I figured the rest would show up, but they didn't. Possibly they were less than necessary.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-58869745041948458432012-06-18T03:49:11.878-07:002012-06-18T03:49:11.878-07:00Ever vigilant watching the little torpedos! Too ba...Ever vigilant watching the little torpedos! Too bad Dave didn't make the side facing you from plexiglass. Would that be like a 'peep show'?? lolChain Stitch Crochethttps://www.blogger.com/profile/07865611172125103299noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-46582744122240245412012-06-17T16:52:15.454-07:002012-06-17T16:52:15.454-07:00I honestly didn't know you could 'birdhous...I honestly didn't know you could 'birdhouse' chickadees. I've only done it with swallows. Both fascinating and delightful with all your brilliant wit.Ian Lidsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14106994463366766471noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-7268336091599539832012-06-17T14:05:56.773-07:002012-06-17T14:05:56.773-07:00Once they stop nesting, they leave the nest for go...Once they stop nesting, they leave the nest for good. So if they're still poking around, it means they're at least considering a second brood. Good luck!Barb Padgettnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-10573427386812201852012-06-17T13:45:33.942-07:002012-06-17T13:45:33.942-07:00Make that "O. Henry." I'm s'pose...Make that "O. Henry." I'm s'posed to know that, ain't I?Nancehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15166865250789996825noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-66904391797351924072012-06-17T13:42:36.331-07:002012-06-17T13:42:36.331-07:00Nice to be back. I thought I'd seen something ...Nice to be back. I thought I'd seen something on FB about the dog eating your novel, poor baby, but it sounds like you recovered nicely.<br /><br />I grew up in Greensboro, home of O'Henry, and went to William Sydney Porter Elementary (O'Henry's real name). We were all deeply steeped in his style to the point that, when something kinda like an O'Henry story happens in real Nancehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/15166865250789996825noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-10429980597723033692012-06-17T11:01:35.819-07:002012-06-17T11:01:35.819-07:00Hey Roth! You can SAY everything in your blog is t...Hey Roth! You can SAY everything in your blog is true, but sometimes, my dear, it's a special kind of true. Innit?Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-11965325115460383432012-06-17T11:00:39.213-07:002012-06-17T11:00:39.213-07:00My first cat, (Saint) Larry, did not go outside un...My first cat, (Saint) Larry, did not go outside until she was fifteen. By then we easily kept her on the patio by going "ah-ah-aaah" when she stuck her nose over the edge, and she'd draw right back. She was good company on the patio.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-40811206875488897172012-06-17T10:59:04.336-07:002012-06-17T10:59:04.336-07:00Zombies.Zombies.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-10332753512965826372012-06-17T10:58:54.879-07:002012-06-17T10:58:54.879-07:00Hey Murr! Like Chantel, I like the explained endin...Hey Murr! Like Chantel, I like the explained endings. And, like Suburban Correspondent, I can at least say with a straight face that everything in my blog is true. Fingers crossed for the book, and, like, whatever. Oh yeah. Birds. Sweet. RothIndigo Rothhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03957870121933442627noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-49624274758725559352012-06-17T10:58:47.903-07:002012-06-17T10:58:47.903-07:00Studley can't even spell his own name. He thin...Studley can't even spell his own name. He thinks he's all that because of his flying abilities but he sucks at Scrabble.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-66511989513685516712012-06-17T10:57:55.254-07:002012-06-17T10:57:55.254-07:00Who was it? Was it Sharon? Who said the finches we...Who was it? Was it Sharon? Who said the finches were so lazy they just picked up the kids and dumped them in the bird feeder to feed themselves. Their nest-building is pretty spare and raunchy, too. That's the kind of mommy I would have been. Surround the kid with pillows and toss in Doritos.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-62023612435686943382012-06-17T10:56:14.702-07:002012-06-17T10:56:14.702-07:00Bang comes first, then the whimper.Bang comes first, then the whimper.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-46051945203171658962012-06-17T10:55:41.747-07:002012-06-17T10:55:41.747-07:00I always encourage people to keep it whet.I always encourage people to keep it whet.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-46436010622666979322012-06-17T10:55:18.863-07:002012-06-17T10:55:18.863-07:00We got an influx of baby starlings and boy did the...We got an influx of baby starlings and boy did they look like they'd stopped in for a beer. Bonking (harmlessly) off my window, landing on the chickadee house, peeing in the bushes, talking too loud...Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-468223150447785936.post-52808332779036732602012-06-17T10:51:55.734-07:002012-06-17T10:51:55.734-07:00Julie Z thought so too. She said bluebirds do that...Julie Z thought so too. She said bluebirds do that, but I reminded her that they don't do it in Portland, and she amended it to wrens. Now that both of you are agreeing, I'm calling it. Wrens. They're so dang cute, too.Murr Brewsterhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03422638986410813520noreply@blogger.com