Anyone who knows me, knows my hatred of birds.
Not just dislike, I mean hatred!
When I was young, my mother had to remove the little robin ornaments that were on the Christmas wreaths as I couldn't stay in the same room as them.
Then there was the horrific case last year, when the birds got into the wall of my kitchen through the extractor fan, built a nest and laid eggs that hatched out. Somehow the nest then fell down through some blocks. The birds subsequently died. The nest was impossible to reach, so for three weeks my kitchen stank to high heaven as the bodies decomposed.
This did not make me like birds any better.
The opening into the extractor fan was barred with a grid and so I thought I was safe.
This year I did not get out to the apartment in Turkey at Easter as I was busy rehearsing for Strictly Come Dancing. Our neighbours from home went out to their apartment, which is next door to ours.
When I say "ours" I mean my brother's!"
One day they went into our apartment to check that everything was in order.
A feckin' Turkish bird had gotten into the extractor fan, loosened it, gotten into the press and built a feckin' nest there! The baby birds had just hatched out.
But can you just imagine if I had gone over this Easter. I usually arrive in the apartment in the early hours of the morning. If I had opened the press to find it full of birds I would have
A) Had a heart attack on the spot
B) Turned on my heels, gotten a taxi back to the airport and flown home on the next available flight.
As my brother said
"Jaysus Noeleen. That would have been a great blog!"