See for yourself:

To the person(s) who stole my birdfeeder. I hope it brings happiness to your drab and small life. Enjoy!

This is the text of the note that I pinned to the spot where my birdfeeder used to hang on the tree, affectionately nicknamed the twig, in my front yard. It was my pleasure to listen to the sparrows, swallows and chickadees squabbling over the millet, cracked corn and sunflower seeds early in the morning as I rushed to get ready for work or in the late afternoon while I sat working at my computer.

Their blissful song was like the tinkling of bells or wind chimes, a joyous affirmation of hope and life.

Thank you, you small minded and craven unfortunates for trying to steal my bliss. I’m delighted to mention here that memory is shifty and cunning, that every time you fill my feeder with bird seed or watch the tiny birds milling about its slender perches, you will likely remember exactly how you acquired said bird feeder. Since you are a petty thief, you might have an itty-bitty bit of conscience, which here means your pleasure will be dampened by the ill-gotten gain of my birdfeeder.

I put a dingy, plastic container with seed next to the twig this morning when I got back to 611. My feathered friends still must eat, birdfeeder or no birdfeeder. Perhaps an old takeout container will be less appealing to you people, my charming, thieving neighbors. Or perhaps you are so needy and so unloved and so empty that you will steal that as well.

Cheers! I wish you nothing but unbridled joy! READ MORE AT MRS. CLEAVAGE’S DIARY