Magpies and Golden Years

There are different species of magpies throughout the world. I can't say if any are on the endangered list, but the magpies that live near my house certainly are not.

Oh, Oh. This story just took a left turn. My writing has been interrupted by gunfire. I mean artillery fire. My next-door neighbor is out for his Sunday morning, "fill the valley with the smell of victory". I love him like a brother, and he is a good guy to have around, in the unlikely (or likely) chance Vladimer decides to invade Northern Colorado.

This dude has a steel target mounted on the mountainside about three hundred vertical feet above his house. He lays in a horizontal position in his yard and aims for the target above him. I'm not sure what he is shooting, but I can recognize that it is big; really big.

The great thing is you, me, and everyone can hear the explosion of the round go off and then the plink of the bullet hitting the steel target. Gives you goosebumps. Well, not everybody. Elaine, Ivy, and most likely Vladimer do not get goosebumps. Me, I go check on the chickens.

I'm sitting here listening to the bullets traveling at supersonic speed waiting for the plink. Today, I'm guessing he is hitting 50%. He will quit soon. Those bullets are most like a buck a piece, not to mention, that I think he needs to be at church by 11:00.

Back to magpies, the magpies of Northern Colorado are kind of pretty. Their absolute black feathers and stark white feathers contrast beautifully. I despise them. I don't want to despise them, but I do.

I am about to declare war on them. The magpies are eating me out of the house and coop. We have about fifteen magpies that fly into the chicken coop and eat the chicken's food. The chickens won't stop them, so I have to. I will admit, my new birthday pellet gun and I sent a magpie to that great nest in the sky but there are more of them every day.

If they only ate chicken food, I could probably co-exist with them but they break holes in the eggs. We have poultry because we like eggs. I am not sharing eggs with magpies.

The magpies realize we are at war. They set up sentries to alert the flock I have opened the door to the house and I have my pellet gun. (I know that sounds crazy) They fly away before I can get a shot. I will be changing weaponry this week. We won't share eggs with magpies no matter how pretty they are. I hope I don't need to enlist the neighbor, he is hitting less than 50% today.

I learned something about myself yesterday. I've made it to my Golden Years. Hey, that's not a bad thing. Some people never see their Golden Years.

Elaine and I attended a brunch with six of our close friends from school. Some of us go back to elementary school. What do people in their Golden Years talk about? Medicare! I can't say I've ever done that before, but now I can't say I haven't. Do you think this is a bucket list item?

Anyway, it is great hitting our Golden Years with you guys. It is going to be great sharing our Golden Years with all of you; or until you decide to block me. It's been done before.

Our crazy lives!

Monner