The Clemstead

A place heavy with history and screaming for new thoughts.

Mag 29: Flutter and Flitter

“It’s your turn”


“Why me?”

“Because if that little brat inside that house bangs on that window one more time I’m going to have a heart attack.” Flutter whined.

“You’re too high strung.”

“You’re my nest mate you should know that one.”

“OK only one more time I hate messing with such good nectar and throwing it up just so you can feed your face.”

“Flitter, once the kids goes away I’ll go myself. You wouldn’t want your brother to starve do you? Don’t you remember when the reflection got me and I was trying to feed from the glass? That cleaning solution and those crows were just nasty.”

“Flutter, I have the same bad eyesight you do. Like I said once more and that is it.”
Flitter leaves

“Shoot for the red, Flit!”

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I come from German (Mennonite/Brethren) stock with bits of Norse, Celtic, Native American, and some mysterious unknown combination from an adopted grandparent. Not an uncommon blend for most of us who settled early in Pennsylvania. This type of diverse heritage left me ripe for the genealogical bug. I make a pilgrimage once a month and attempt to trace all the branches of my family tree. Unearthing facts that were never documented previously always brings excitement.

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