Madame Merle.

Madame Merle.

Okay. We kicked Petit Merle out of the nest last week. Greedy little horror. Or was it Petite Merle? Who cares? Anyway, it was getting boring. It couldn’t half eat.

So now what? It is still only May, and I do have urges you know.

I had a look around, but this nest building lark is quite hard work. So I decided that the old nest is still okay. An upgrade en suite will have to wait.

Apart from that mad English woman who creeps past and thinks we can’t see her, there isn’t much wrong with the old nest. She called me a sweet baby today. In English, would you ever believe? Daft bint.
And of course, she spends a bomb on bird seed and they barmy grease balls, although we quite like those.

Monsieur Merle stands guard over the trays of bird seed to keep off the hoi poloi while I get my beak in. And then he bogs off for a few worms while I get back home. He came back with just one today. One? do me a favour.
My mother warned me about him, but you know us girls. Anything for a Flash Harry.

So here I am, up the spout again, and sitting on two eggs this time. But I don’t have to do much, so it’s quite nice to have a bit of a rest. Until this lot hatch, that is.

Au Revoir, for now. Or A Bientot, as we say around here.

One Response to “Madame Merle.”

  1. thelastfurlong Says:

    Loved this post! Very fun. Thank you.

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