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Show THE WINTER Outside all the birdblood is vibrating hovering at the freezing point. The ground is hard and tough like city relatives and the water pipes grow stiff like hanged men. Well, what did you expect? It's winter. And not one insurance company is going to pay off-- the old Act-of-God clause. But the dead birds and I are learning to live with it. They have grabbed up their canes and strapped on their spats and are tap dancing like crazy, huffing and puffing. Here, pull up a chair. You can bend over and warm your hands in their breath. It's going to be a long night, uncle, |