The new man in my life.

Just when you're least expecting it, and certainly when you're not even looking for it, love can just plop into your life like a gift from above. Actually, it did literally plop into my life from above - the day Jack fell down the chimney. One minute I was quietly sitting at the kitchen table eating a cheese and pickle sandwich, and the next I was rather perturbed to hear a quiet rustling sound from the chimney above the woodburner. My first thought was that I had imagined it, my second was interrupted by the caw of a baby jackdaw. My third I cannot actually write - there are too many rude words in it.
Initially I tried to ignore it; the sound of a bird scuttling around the chimney, the intermittent pitiful squawk, but worst of all were the quiet bits in between when I wondered if perhaps my uninvited guest had croaked it. After hours of silence, convinced that he had more than likely dragged himself up to the top of the chimney and was pleasantly relaxing in his nest, whilst singing a fabulous duet with Amy Winehouse on the radio - me, not the bird (I actually think I was a little more in tune than she was, but that's beside the point), there it was again; the scuttling, followed by the pathetic, "I am still here you know, waiting patiently but getting a tiny bit pissed off, if you know what I mean", type of squawk. It was then I knew there was just one thing to do - get the Artist quick. Of course there are many things that women can manage on their own without a man's help (even the scientists agree on this point - we don't even need you for making babies any more), yet there is one job which is still a 'Man's Job' - rescuing possibly mangled birds out of chimneys.
And so it was, that after much shifting of chimney covers and large avalanches of dust, grit and soot, Jack came into my life.