Part I
Part I
The Misadventures of Lemony Snicket, O.E.
by me
Monday May 23rd the year 2005
This morning, my mom found a sadly disadvantaged baby bird in the garden among the lettuces. It was still in the shell, but the shell was broken and dirty and we had a full view of the bird’s abdomen and little beak. There were red ants crawling over its skin.
My mother bent down with a small sigh of pity on her lips for the dead bird, but when she was bent over she saw that the bird was not dead, but was the only thing one can be if one is not dead, and that is alive.She called for me, and I put down my schoolwork and came to the backyard and looked with her upon the poor little orphaned... egg. I shall call it so because it was not a bird yet, as the shell was still around it, and if the egg had not been broken open we would have called it an egg and not a bird anyway. Therefore it was only appropriate to attach the name: orphaned egg.
We put the OE onto a shovel and brushed off the ants and watched it kick. We both felt pity for the tiny creature and so took it inside, and put it in a Styrofoam cup with a paper towel, and left the cup under a lamp for warmth.Then we watched it, expecting it to die any moment. But it lived, and lived...And is still living.
Late this night, my sister Julia, as she was watching the bird, saw the bird begin to struggle out of the remains of its shell. However, because it was very dry, its skin against the shell had become like tissue paper brushed with glue, and it did exactly what all things brushed with glue do: it stuck.
My sister quickly employed her inventing skills and unfolded two paper clips and assisted the bird out of its crumbling home. My mother intervened at this point to help transfer the creature into a new, better home: a paper towl over a warm plastic ziplock bag filled with water. The plastic bag was my idea..
Soon the little bird began to peep. At first once, then twice, then several times. Then it lifted its head and gaped, a pathetic, wobbly little gape, but there it was...in the universal language of the birds...as clear as the tiny pink tongue waggling in the back of its throat...
FEED ME.
And so we fed it, and made the brave, but unfortunate resolve to get up every half hour to insert boiled egg and bread and sugar water into its mouth.
It is always unfortunate to make resolves, because like New Year’s Resolutions, they rarely last.
In our case, it lasted only until we lay down to sleep and closed our eyes.It is amazing how quickly seven hours can slip by...
The Misadventures of Lemony Snicket, O.E.
by me
Monday May 23rd the year 2005
This morning, my mom found a sadly disadvantaged baby bird in the garden among the lettuces. It was still in the shell, but the shell was broken and dirty and we had a full view of the bird’s abdomen and little beak. There were red ants crawling over its skin.
My mother bent down with a small sigh of pity on her lips for the dead bird, but when she was bent over she saw that the bird was not dead, but was the only thing one can be if one is not dead, and that is alive.She called for me, and I put down my schoolwork and came to the backyard and looked with her upon the poor little orphaned... egg. I shall call it so because it was not a bird yet, as the shell was still around it, and if the egg had not been broken open we would have called it an egg and not a bird anyway. Therefore it was only appropriate to attach the name: orphaned egg.
We put the OE onto a shovel and brushed off the ants and watched it kick. We both felt pity for the tiny creature and so took it inside, and put it in a Styrofoam cup with a paper towel, and left the cup under a lamp for warmth.Then we watched it, expecting it to die any moment. But it lived, and lived...And is still living.
Late this night, my sister Julia, as she was watching the bird, saw the bird begin to struggle out of the remains of its shell. However, because it was very dry, its skin against the shell had become like tissue paper brushed with glue, and it did exactly what all things brushed with glue do: it stuck.
My sister quickly employed her inventing skills and unfolded two paper clips and assisted the bird out of its crumbling home. My mother intervened at this point to help transfer the creature into a new, better home: a paper towl over a warm plastic ziplock bag filled with water. The plastic bag was my idea..
Soon the little bird began to peep. At first once, then twice, then several times. Then it lifted its head and gaped, a pathetic, wobbly little gape, but there it was...in the universal language of the birds...as clear as the tiny pink tongue waggling in the back of its throat...
FEED ME.
And so we fed it, and made the brave, but unfortunate resolve to get up every half hour to insert boiled egg and bread and sugar water into its mouth.
It is always unfortunate to make resolves, because like New Year’s Resolutions, they rarely last.
In our case, it lasted only until we lay down to sleep and closed our eyes.It is amazing how quickly seven hours can slip by...
posted by Courtney at 8:50 PM
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