This is an old post I promised I'd re-post for my friends Kiersten and Dave, who are experiencing some bird problems of their own. It has nothing to do with mommyhood or crafts, but it is springtime in Arizona, and therefore it's that time of year when the mockingbirds are full-force in all their defiant, obnoxious, tweeting glory:

Recently my dad and brother found a new weekend pastime: shooting. I'm
not entirely sure what could have brought this on, but if I were to
guess, it would be an exercise in defending their constitutional right
to wield firearms whenever and wherever they like. While my dad claims
that it is for protection from home invaders (because those
run rampant in their neighborhood), I tend to think it is less an act
of familial preservation than it is a big F-you to gun control
advocates trying to take away his right to shoot them if he was ever
physically attacked by one. While I know that guns in-and-of themselves
are harmless, I have a tendency to want to lock myself up in a
thoroughly insulated titanium box for my own self-protection whenever I
am around one (and rightfully so, considering that under my brother's
instruction, my sister blasted a hole through her closet wall and into
the next bedroom… at least the "bullet" was a "blank"… hahaha!).

Anyway,
this blog isn't really about gun politics as much as it is what I think
my dad and brother should do to put this new hobby to its most
practical use. As long as they don't mind shooting in the dark, in the
middle of the week, in some God-forsaken area near our apartment, at
11:00 at night, and either pissing off a lot of residents in the
process or emerging as full-fledged heroes. Here's why:

Spring
is in full force in Arizona, mixing cool nights with warm, sunny days.
THOR likes to run around in the grass and stick his little nose out the
window when we drive around. The orange trees and wild desert flora are
blossoming and everything smells heavenly. Sounds like a fairy tale,
right? There is a window of about three weeks, maybe a
month that this lasts. In anticipation of the inevitable inferno that
is the Arizona summer, Cody and I want to put off using the A/C as long
as possible because APS IS THE DEVIL AND WILL ROT IN THE LAKE OF
FLAMING SULFUR FOREVER (see the book of Revelation for proof), so we are leaving our windows open at night to let in the fresh air, and closing them during the day to hold it in.

Two
nights ago, as I settled into bed with my husband, our dog, and my
book, joyously reading and looking forward to a restful night, my peace
was broken by a shrill, earsplitting, incessant, and ever-changing…
bird call.

As is the case with most noises that keep me awake at
night, be it a neighbor pounding his bass through the walls or one of
those annoying car alarms where the horn honks erratically and stops IF
AND ONLY IF its owner comes to shut it the &%#! up, my first
instinct was to blow up the culprit with a bazooka. But since I didn’t
have one of those handy at the time, all we could do was close the
bedroom window- much to Cody’s chagrin, who describes sleeping between
THOR and me akin to being trapped inside a car in the middle of the
summer in Phoenix with no A/C and the windows rolled up. When that did
absolutely nothing to muffle the annoying song of what I think is a mate-less, sex-deprived, attention-starved male Northern Mockingbird,
I started to go crazy. I even tried earplugs to drown out this crap,
but I could only get an earplug in my left ear, because apparently my
ear hole in the other ear is too small to accommodate a foam earplug.
Now there’s a problem I never thought I’d have.

On that note,
I’m not sure which will be more annoying for my neighbors: the constant
bird noise, or me taking up a shotgun at every tree within a half-mile
radius in an irrational, ruthless, apocalyptic, sleep-deprived rage
until the bird noise is finally brought to a bloody end.

Originally written and posted to my former blog in March, 2008