The street I grew up on made today's Wall Street Journal, for a very interesting reason: peacocks. The place has been infested with them since I was a kid. They are a nuisance: they get in your garden, roost on your roof and leave droppings--and then there is that unearthly howl.
But all in all you get used to it. My mother still keeps peacocks on her farm in Kansas. And, of course, Flannery O'Connor kept them.
Can't be all bad.
4 comments:
"My mother still keeps peacocks on her form in Kansas."
Sounds far worse than gay marriage.
Josh,
Thanks for the substantive comment.
Worthy of the post.
Unlike your comment, my post wasn't meant to be substantive.
Post a Comment