I have a friend in Philly with a daughter who I think would be just about right for that...I'll link her to this.
Also, do either of you have any history of sleepwalking?
2010-06-26 05:53 pm (UTC)
a strange tale, indeed.
you had me lolling at 'unfortunate throw rugs'
They really looked like discarded mop heads, but I couldn't figure out how to make that work. Because there's definitely an element of persecution to it. LIke "why do you make me suffer like this? the heat!" while you're trying to wave them into the air conditioning....
That is a totally random and bizarre mystery. Very fitting after watching Lost. Hope you guys can figure it out. But I bet you are right about the chimney. Poor little guy must have sat down on your night stand and just passed away. At least you didn't wake up with him laying on you dead. Ewwwwwww.
at least roswell wasn't in the room leading some crazed chase, knocking things over while we're thinking we're being attacked by metal bats.
cause usually that's what i suspect when something's flapping around the room in the dark at 3 AM. metal bats.
I liked both "unfortunate throw rugs" and "lay about like tortured artists."
But have nothing to offer about the dead bird mystery.
My mind immediately went to a story about the night stand (assuming it's made of wood) and how it was the tree this bird's ancestors used as a home for generation upon generation until it was cut down and assembled into furniture, and so the bird had a spiritual connection to it and decided to fly into your house via the chimney and made the night stand it's death bed before the locked door.
If you would come to Ireland I know just the kids. But since you won't (probably) you will just have to live knowing you have missed out on the 2 perfect children for your shoot.
Meanwhile I can't spell the word I want to use to describe reaction to the bird story but it goes something like ::shudder::eeeessssshhh::shudder:: That is seriously weird.
When I was standing there, half asleep, looking down thinking "That looks like a dead bird," my first thought was that someone had come into the house and put it there. Which was a little more ::shudder::eeeessssshhh::shudder:: when I saw that the door was still locked and we had not cats with us.
I am owned by three cats, none of whom go outside...ever. We are very careful of this. We do not have a chimney. The cats have managed to capture 3 birds and do appalling things to them over the past two years. I am confounded on where they are coming from, the birds of course, the cats are just being the little predators they are. At least you have a chimney.
Sadly, you didn't rate a raven. But a starling is pretty good; I think that's the bird that comforted Branwen during her captivity, in the Mabinogion. So Celtic cool points!
But they do have an unfortunate tendency to fall down chimneys and not be able to get back out. And it's a lot worse when they get stuck in the water heater chimney, let me tell you.
Quoteth the raven, "Nevermore."
It works better without quote marks in this case:
Quoth the raven nevermore.
2010-06-26 06:34 pm (UTC)
The case of the startling starling...
C & I both love starlings ~ they look like they're wearing these beautifully elaborate iridescent capelets and are ready for Ventian carnevale.
I'd personally revel in the not knowing. So much is easily explained in this world, that it's a gift now and then to simply experience a greater mystery.
2010-06-27 01:07 am (UTC)
Re: The case of the startling starling...
seconded. im partial to Starlings as well, but I may be biased since its my maiden name.
It's a very pretty bird. I've got no clue how it got into your house, however.
Kitties laying about as unfortunate throw rugs and tortured artists... Oh, how I remember those days! :D
I like the "Oh Hai" photos on twitter. Lucifer did stuff like that. So did my last dog. ;)
This reads like the start of a standard Urban Fantasy novel.
Artist comes home, finds mysterious dark bird dead on table in middle of locked room.
Revelation that artist is related to historic figure involved in mystic plot to stop dark forces follows.
Hero refuses call to adventure.
Hero's Uncle Lars and Aunt Beru massacred by Imperial Storm Troopers masquerading as Sand people... Oops. Wrong monomyth.
Mysterious. And rather sad. I can't help but wonder if this bird's family and friends are wondering what happened to him. Waiting. Wondering where he went off to (and when he will return). Much like us as to where he came from.
Crikies. I do not think I would be handling the unexplained appearance of a dead bird in my room with your level of calm. At least the last moments happened on your nightstand and not say, at the foot of your bed. Yipes.
You didn't like it? I'm hurt! I thought it was a fair trade for the bicycle.
Professor Hans Greisch fell into a pervasive melancholy with the death of his wife and infant daughter in the influenza epidemic of 1918. He was let go from his position as a lecturer in physics at the university several months later, because of increasingly erratic behavior.
After that, he rarely left his Philadelphia row house. His assistant at the university, Thomas Balsom, visited him daily. Greisch demanded he help with Greisch's "ongoing research," which the professor now conducted in what had been the nursery. Balsom's account mentions the bizaare juxtaposition of nursery wallpaper, adorned with rocking horses, balls, and alphabet blocks, with the granite-surfaced lab table and the piercing hum of electrical rheostats.
The culmination of Greisch's investigations involved three baby starlings, recovered from a nest in the chimney after they were orphaned by a neighbor's cat. Greisch claimed he could send the birds forward in time, unharmed, by placing them in a contained electrical field of varying intensity.
Balsom was inclined to object, but upon realizing that the birds were destined to die in any case, relented and followed Griesch's directions.
The first nestling was placed in the container and the field applied. To Balsom's amazement, it disappeared. Fifteen minutes later, it reappeared in the container, apparently none the worse for the experience.
At this, Balsom reports that he was even more excited than Greisch, and eager to try again. Greisch adjusted his apparatus, and placed the second bird in the container. It, too, disappeared. "This bird will travel forward one week," Greisch declared, according to Balsom's notes. "We will be here to receive it when it arrives."
Then Greisch placed the third baby bird in the container and once more made adjustments. According to Greisch, this bird would travel one year forward in time. The third bird disappeared, and Balsom noted both projected dates in his notebook.
One week and thirty hours later, the second bird reappeared in the container. At least, a live bird reappeared; whether it was the same bird was difficult to tell. For this starling was a fledgeling, not a nestling: far more mature than could be accounted for by the passing of a week. If it was the bird Greisch and Balsom had placed in the container in their second experiment, time had passed more rapidly for it than for the experimenters.
Greisch, thinking he had erred in setting his apparatus, rechecked his settings. In doing so, he discovered that the third bird, which he had meant to send forward one year, had mistakenly been sent forward almost one hundred years, based on the thirty-hour error in the second experiment. Greisch was deeply depressed by the discovery.
Balsom urged Greisch to try again. But the older man flew into a rage. He drove Balsom from the house and refused to allow him to come again. Though Balsom wrote frequently and even rang the bell at the Philadelphia rowhouse, he never saw or heard from Greisch again.
A year and six weeks later, Greisch was found dead in his house after neighbors complained of an unpleasant smell. The coroner ruled his death a natural one, though decomposition made it difficult to determine positively, given the technology available to the medical examiners of the day.
Thomas Balsom, after a brief career in academia, was denied tenure. He took up patent medicine, selling electrical devices that he claimed would reverse the ageing process. He was eventually bankrupted by lawsuits brought by customers who had suffered electric shocks, burns, and small house fires, and died penniless.
Edited at 2010-06-26 08:46 pm (UTC)
woohoo! can we do a chap book? eh? eh?
Either you or Trillian have connections with the Philadelphia mafia? I know the Tampa one liked to do things with dead birds, but those tended to be headless.
Doubtless it was a time traveling experiment gone awry. If you just peeled back the feathers near the tail a bit, you'd find the apparatus used by the 2610 Crow Time Travelers, a group who have been trying to warn us for years of the upcoming Delicious Food Shortage of the 22nd century. Unfortunately, no one yet speaks Caw.
I am from Tampa. Fortunately, I now live in New Orleans, so I can almost guarantee without a doubt that I did not place a dead bird on his nightstand last night.
I used to have a problem with house wrens that were nesting near my front door and slipping in without me seeing them when I went in or out. I imagine the poor bird just slipped in, maybe the cats chased it around a bit and it wound up under your bed or some other piece of furniture in the bedroom, decided it was safe to come out but only made it as far as the top of the nightstand before it either sucuumbed to injuries, shock or dehydration. I suspect I would be checking closets and under the bed before I locked up for a while though, just in case, because it is creepy no matter how it happened.
I'll tell the tarantulas to stop leaving you gifts like that. :)
yeah, they probably dragged it up through the drain in the bath tub.
2010-06-26 09:57 pm (UTC)
Clearly Poe's raven has got lost.
I did not wake up and find a dead bird next to me, but last night I had a disturbing dream. And, by disturbing I mean awesome. I dreamt I was a six or seven year old girl who was murdering people. I was going after my stepmother.
I think it has something to do with a character I am making for a LARP.
Any chance that when you woke up and went out to check email that one of your cats, having caught the bird coming out of the chimney, went into the bedroom and put it on your nightstand as a present. Perhaps on your way back into bed you just didn't realize it was there.?