I had a very strange and complex nightmare last night. It was an odd family thing, although nobody who was my family were actually members of my family (or exist at all, as far as I know.) When I finally woke up from being pregnant and destitute in a weird little post-apocalyptic community, I staggered into the bathroom, talked briefly with Kevin, and fell back asleep, whereupon I was in a library attempting to locate the sequel to my dream on the shelves. (I found it. It was titled "Faithful Ich." Ich is a fish disease. I don’t know either.)

In other news, there’s a warbler of some sort on the feeder. I originally thought it was a female goldfinch, but it’s moving wrong. I could not, if pressed, even begin to tell you how a goldfinch moves, I have apparently absorbed it on a non-conscious level, but I know that’s not moving like a goldfinch. It’s very slow and rather uncertain. Finches are not uncertain birds. It’s also in the dappled shadows of the little tree holding up the feeder, so I can’t get a terribly good look at the field marks, so we’ll chalk it up to Generic Unknown Warbler unless it decides to move somewhere else.

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