Oh, I almost forgot. I made friends with a robin. His name is Keith. You’d like him.
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
Keith comes and perches on the shovel after I’ve dug some fresh ground. Robins do that. And my friend Keith is one. A robin, I mean.
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
Keith is “well hard”. His words.
“Aren’t you brave?” I said, the first time he perched on the spade.
“I’m well hard, me.”
“Goodness.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“You ever had a sparrow perch here?”
“I don’t think so.”
“A chaffinch?”
“Not that I recall.”
“That’s right. Ain’t got the bottle.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
Keith let that hang there. Let me take it in. Then he continued.
“Ain’t many birds got my kind of bottle. Got to go up a few sizes, innit.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Up a few sizes?”
“Till you get to one as hard as me. Next one’s an eagle, mate.”
“Honestly?”
“A fucking eagle. With talents.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Talons, do you mean?”
“Ooh, Bill Oddie over here.”
“I’m sorry, I–”
“I’m perched here with actual feathers and he’s correcting me.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“I really didn’t–“
“Here’s me wolfing down a worm, right? A fucking worm? And I’m getting an orthography lesson.”
“You mean ‘orni–‘”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Ooh, excuse *me*! Made another faux pair, have I? Another gap in my bird knowledge, is there?”
“Look, I–”
“I mean, what would I know?”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Look, I’m sorry.”
“I mean, I was only born in a fucking egg, weren’t I?”
“I really do defer to your expertise.”
“Oh, no. You carry on.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Keith, I’m sorry, okay?”
“Currently resident in a nest, innit.”
“I’m sorry, Keith.”
“That’s more like it.”
“Sorry.”
“Proper order.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Do continue.”
“What was I saying?”
“About the eagles.”
“Oh, yeah. You’ve got to go up to eagles, normally, to get this hard.”
“Gosh.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Some of the sea birds can handle themselves. Your gannet would come off respectable in a bout. Fucking weirdos, though.”
“Really?”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Oh, yeah. Known fact. Sea birds are head cases, most of them. Stands to reason.”
“Does it?”
“You ever had two weeks at the seaside?”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Once or twice.”
“How’d you feel by the end?”
“Keen to get home, I suppose.”
“Exactly. Two weeks at the seaside, you start cracking up.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“I see your point.”
“Whereas your herring gull, say; he’s doing a life term. Imagine, whirling round a fucking pier, rest of your natural.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“I’ve never thought of it that way.”
“Oh, yeah. Twelve fucking Monkeys material, the lot of them. Suicides ain’t unheard of.”
“How awful.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“I saw this gull once, he’s nicked a cap gun off a kid on the pier and he’s only tried to shoot himself in the face with it.”
“My God.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Oh, yes. Tragical event. Mind you, you’d need a heart of stone not to laugh. Gulls ain’t that good at pointing weapons at their faces.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Christ. What happened?”
“Dropped the cap gun on the roof of a chip can. Went and bashed his head off some rocks for a bit.”
“Did he–?”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Did he live? Oh yeah. You can’t kill them gulls. Course, he’d lost his memory, so he ends up trying it again. Vacuous circle, innit.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“So, Keith–“
“You having that?”
“I’m sorry?”
“That worm. You having it?”
“It’s all yours. Look, Keith–”
“Don’t mind if I do.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“So, Keith, I’ve enjoyed our chat, but I’ve got quite a bit of gardening to do.”
“Oh, don’t mind me. You’ll hardly know I’m here.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Right. Well. I’ll just–”
“What you planting, anyway?”
“Er, ferns mostly.”
“Right.”
“Right, then. I’ll just–”
“Useless plants.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“I’m sorry?”
“Ferns. Useless, innit. Can’t perch on them. Fuck all insects. Why can’t you plant some nice trees.”
“I have.”
“Where?”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“What? Everywhere. There’s a magnolia just over your head. I’m underplanting it with ferns.”
“Eh? What for?”
“What?”
“For. Why, like?”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“I’m not following, Keith.”
“Birds, mate. Where do we fly?”
“The sky?”
“You do know your stuff, don’t you? That’s right. The sky.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“I really don’t–“
“And the sky is?”
“Blue?”
“Above the ground. It’s basic Geoff-physics, innit.”
“Geoff-physics?”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Geoff-physics. Which, I’m sure you’ve got a Ph.D. and everything, but I know what I know. Ferns get in the way.”
“In the way?”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Your ideal configuration, right, would be sky-tree-worms.”
“Sky-tree-worms?”
“I’m not saying don’t be creative. But yeah, basically.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Anything else?”
“Oh, no. I’m a simple creature, me. My needs are few. A bird bath, maybe. And you might SkyPlus David Attenborough.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“SkyPlus?”
“Such production values. And he’s doing a special on the condor. Useful in a fight, your condor.”
“I imagine so.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Oh, yes. You want a condor or two around you when a fricassée develops.”
“A fricasséé?”
“Technical term. Mind you, apples and oranges.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Apples? Keith, I’m finding it–“
“Weight advantage, innit. Scale me up to condor size? Oof. All bets are off. Apex predator. End of.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Apex predator?”
“No question. Mind you, I ain’t eating llamas. No chance. Like you come home from the pub and assembled an Ikea sheep.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Keith, I’m going inside now.”
“And yaks. Don’t get me started on yaks. Like Pat Butcher and a viking on their wedding night.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
“Goodbye, Keith.”
“I’m hard, me.”
“Cheerio.”
“Yeah, you go, mate. I’ll keep an eye on things. Fuck off, thrush. This is Sparta, innit.”
— Paraic O’Donnell (@paraicodonnell) December 20, 2012
Paraic O’Donnell 