Wherein Mrs. Morrigan comes home to roost.

You might know that I live in a basement apartment.  Our steps are super steep, so it's a mini-hiking trip every day when I leave the house.  I don't usually look up; I'm generally concentrating to make sure an ill-placed foot doesn't send me back down into the seven foot well that is my entryway.

So when I got about forehead-level with my mailbox and spotted this out of the corner of my eye, I'm not ashamed to say that I jumped.  Just a little.

Unexpected pigeon mail is unexpected.

Luckily, I've loved from afar the Pigeon Post kit from the Letter Writers Alliance, so once my heart stopped racing from the half second of thinking a real pigeon was on my mailbox, I knew exactly what she was doing there.

The view of Mrs. Morrigan from my upstairs neighbors' perspective as they ascended their stoop.

You can read all about Mrs. Morrigan's past life as a fortune-teller here.  However, this week she was helping Kim send a message to me that could not be delayed, nor could it be rushed by false electronic means.

She took exactly the right amount of time to arrive. 

Many thanks to Kim for sending her my way!  I fed her (well, I put her next to the cockatiels' seed bowl, thus terrorizing both Roo and Bigsby, who thought she was real and eating their food), and will let her relax here for a little while before figuring out where she should go next.