A bald, bearded man dressed in a green robe, gripping a staff and carrying a large, long-necked bird stares at me from the wall by the window in my office. Before staring at me he stared at Mom from the wall in her living room. Prior to that he stared at Grandma from dining room walls, first in Elgin, then Chetek.
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History with bird.
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He certainly gets around!
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No one taught him that staring is rude! (The lesson never took with me either.)
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How lovely. I wonder where they got him.
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I wonder that too, Mali.
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Is he plastic? Ceramic? So intrigued.
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Bridgett — he’s ceramic, and actually a vase. My mother used to keep the root ends of a philodendron in it and let the plant wander the room.
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