The Pink Must Be Rubbing Off

The Flamingess woke up yesterday morning with one blood shot eye. To begin with, I attributed this to the previous night's over indulgence in the juice of the grape. Yes, I overtrained a bit. It was hot and the wine was cold. DBFA does the driving, so I only had to be able to stagger onto the lawn and pick up birds without tripping on the curb or falling over into a flower bed. Only one eye, though? Over the course of the day, it got grittier and squintier and more bloodshot. Yup, by evening there was no doubt about it - pink eye. Nothing makes a girl feel more glamourous. You can be sure I am NOT attending the Chamber of Commerce Board Meeting this afternoon. "Gentlemen, I'd like to introduce myself. I'm the Flamingess and I plant flamingos. Flamingos the exact color of my right eye." It won't keep me from my haircut appointment, though.

Only one job last night. Sometime after we left the flock and the birthday girl got up this morning, the sender of this greeting was going to sneak over and add one more flamingo. This is a personal bird that makes the rounds (sounds sort of slutty, doesn't it?). It will be all dressed up in ribbons and bows. I hope the flock doesn't get jealous and start demanding clothing of their own. If they do, you can bet they'll all want something different and where does one find 150 individual flamingo outfits. And think of the laundry! No! I'll just have to put my foot down - they stay naked!