In a dazzling display of "swan-upmanship" Leith's most
famous bird Ms Deirdre Swann yesterday hatched 7 healthy cygnets from her brood of 10
eggs.
"The tricky part was actually laying the fuckers - after that
it was easy," Ms Swann explained, keeping a threatening eye on the other birds
pecking about the nest. "I mean - look at the fucking size of them!"
she laughed hollowly, while sipping from a can of delicious but economical Kestrel lager.
"Lager's good for mothers," she explained, pointing
at the can with her elegant yet now somewhat scrawny neck. "Got iron in it. And
folic acid. Do you think I've lost weight, by the way?"
The cygnets are perfectly formed, and ready to swim and even eat
tomorrow or the next day, unlike other birdlets which seem to do nothing but open their
gobs and demand to be spoon fed. You can see them gambolling about, pecking at
inedible rubbish (for practice) then retiring back under mother's protective wing -
literally. Hence the expression, which has seeped into the human, un-winged vocabulary.
Broken eggshells litter the environs, like so many of yesterday's
things - important at the time, but now best forgotten. Let's face it, the Water of Leith
might not be much, but it's a damn sight better than inside an egg.
And what about names for the new-born? Any ideas there? "Well,
I've more or less set my mind on the days of the week, ye ken - with there being seven o'
them an all," Ms Swann confided, proudly. "Providin' of course there's
nae mair o' the wee fuckers still tae come - then I'm really up shit creek!"
So what about Darren, her husband? He was nowhere to be seen.
"Oh - he'll
be down the pub, whooping it up with the boys!" she laughed. "You know
what men are like - whatever species they are. And he was really pissed off when Hearts
won the cup, so I guess this'll cheer him up a bit. Seven! That should get him a round or
three."
She spent a few
moments moving twigs and bits of plastic about the nest, lost in thought.
"It was your
wonderful Germaine Greer who once said 'It's always the fucked sex that comes off worst.'
Smart bird that. Now - if there's nothing else, I'll have to start thinking about the
tea."
Deirdre's nest is in fact on the Water of Leith, opposite the Mecca
Bingo Hall and down a bit. Go there. See wildlife without David Attenborough. And take
your own camera - you truly don't need the BBC every damn time. Trust me, I'm
natural.
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