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Evidently 3 o'clock on a Friday before a long weekend holiday is not the time to go shopping. I've not seen crowds like this since the Thursday in 2020 when the CDC announced we were in a pandemic and everyone rushed to buy toilet paper. And even then I think there were shoppping carts and baskets. Today people were lining up to get same. If I don't remember how things worked the last time we had Christmas on a Monday, it's probably because I was still working and didn't shop till the weekend.
In my idle hours I watch the backyard birds do their witless thing: congregate in the overgrown ivy of my back fence, all swoop north to Prof Islamic Studies bare apple tree, swoop back to ivy, swoop south to SSND's bare cherry tree, swoop back to ivy. I assume they're not grackles because grackles are loud: they hide in the thick stubby branches of the Gingerbread House down the street and raise an awful clatter. And stay hidden: no compulsive searching for who knows what that isn't there. Sparrows, maybe, but all small city birds look alike to me.
In my idle hours I watch the backyard birds do their witless thing: congregate in the overgrown ivy of my back fence, all swoop north to Prof Islamic Studies bare apple tree, swoop back to ivy, swoop south to SSND's bare cherry tree, swoop back to ivy. I assume they're not grackles because grackles are loud: they hide in the thick stubby branches of the Gingerbread House down the street and raise an awful clatter. And stay hidden: no compulsive searching for who knows what that isn't there. Sparrows, maybe, but all small city birds look alike to me.