A post in which I tread the delicate line between enjoying my surroundings and letting my husband think he's converted me to his ways

I was slumming around the house before work this morning in my hoodie and large, comfy pants, when I came upon this gem in J's WildBird magazine, which I found on the coffee table:
(From the "Editor's Note" by Amy K. Hooper)

"An individual in the birding industry recently described me as a 'know-nothing who calls herself a birder.' The comment prompted a couple questions."

This prompted a few questions for me, the reader, as well. A) Birding industry? and
B) Why did you admit, in your widely distributed magazine, that someone called you a name? What's more, they called you a "know-nothing who calls herself a birder." That's a harsh comment. That's on par with a Star Trek junkie calling another Trekkie, "A know-nothing who knows nothing about Star Trek."

The piece did go on to explain her reasoning. Hooper's point was that all birders are beginners at some point and there's nothing wrong with that. Agreed. But don't include any more criticisms of your birding ability in the Editor's Note, because it makes me question your judgment, alright?

I might have been more hard on this blatant display of - you guessed it - nerdiness (with a capital N) today if it wasn't for the fact that I had a nice bird experience myself this morning. I know, I know. You're all, "Stop, Cara. Stop before this turns into a birding blog." But don't worry, I'll keep my references few and far between.

As referenced previously, this morning I was feeling kind of sluggish. The desire to just wear comfortable, unstylish, clothes and go out in the world resembling a college freshman on a Sunday morning overrode my desire to look presentable. The condition was simply the result of too little sleep and knowing I've got a busy couple of days ahead. Getting out of bed to begin those days was rough. I've been feeling the onset of a cold. I wanted to stay beneath the covers. I wanted a television to magically appear. I wanted that television to be playing back to back episodes of "The Golden Girls."

But I had work to do and I got up. Mina frolicked at my feet like an exuberant little elf and started doing backflips when I grabbed her pink leash to take her out. As we exited the warm kitchen I felt the first brush of morning air, cold, but not too cold. It was cloudy and I immediately felt better. The fresh air - and then, the birds. Everywhere. And loud as hell. They were swooping above me and chattering in the trees. Some of them were flying quickly above me in formations. All with their unique songs and I thought about how J would be looking up and identifying them all if he were there. Mina was prancing down the street and for a few minutes it was just me and her and all those ridiculous birds, with their ridiculous songs, saying good morning.