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Dmonix
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 Newfoundland Man Calls In Priest To 'Bless' House
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Newfoundland Man Calls In Priest To 'Bless' House After Angry Birds Target Home



(http://cnews.canoe.com) - - HARBOUR BRETON, N.L. — For Johnaton Poulain, it’s like living in the middle of an Alfred Hitchcock movie.

The rattled Newfoundlander has endured weeks of torment by a pair of ravens that have been laying siege to his new house on the province’s south coast.

He says he has tried everything to stop the pernicious pests from pecking at his windows and buzzing his multi-level home — all to no avail.

Now, the 27-year-old is hoping a bit of divine intervention might solve the problem.

“I have a priest coming up this evening just to bless the house because I was a little bit superstitious over this,” he said Tuesday from his battered home in Harbour Breton.

“My grandmother’s a total holy person and she said, ‘Just get it blessed,’ because I didn’t know if it was an omen or what. I find it very, very weird they keep attacking this home, because there’s a new home on the back of me that doesn’t get touched and there’s new homes in the area that they don’t touch.”

Poulain said he decided to catch a flight out of Fort McMurray, Alta., where he works after a neighbour sent him video of two ravens mercilessly thrashing around his windows and scratching at the seals around them. The video, which has been watched close to 2,400 times on Facebook, shows one of the birds appearing to jump several feet in the air, directly outside an upper kitchen window.

He said there are now 10 panes of glass that need to be replaced because of damaged seals, and one window in the basement that had its screen torn away by the birds. At least one of the window sills was flecked with blood, presumably from the birds’ pecking. He didn’t yet know the cost of the damage to the home, which he bought for $280,000.

He was supposed to be back at his job in Fort McMurray on Tuesday, but said he will wait until his girlfriend returns home from her job in the offshore later this month or he finds a way to scare off the birds.

Poulain said he has placed three fake owls in various spots around the home, which he moved into after construction was completed just before Christmas.

But, he says the birds are using the plastic statuettes as resting posts while they hack away at his windows.

“You can see them sitting on the owls’ heads,” he says with a sigh, adding that he has an air horn that he blasts at them when they’re outside the windows. “I never heard tell of anything like this before in my life.”

Poulain said the birds take off when he is home and then return when he leaves the property, which is surrounded by other homes that haven’t had the same kind of problem.

“It’s like they watch my vehicle and when the vehicle goes, they’re like, ‘Alright let’s go back,”’ he said.

Poulain said he has inquired with wildlife services about what he should do, but hasn’t received help. He said he also asked a bird expert at Memorial University about the birds’ behaviour and was advised to get the air horn and hang coverings in the windows to lessen the birds’ reflections.

Asked if it’s possible the birds just want him to stay at the home, Poulain chuckled and said, “They might just want to move in and take over the mortgage, and that would be fine.”

Link of DEATH!: http://cnews.canoe.com/CNEWS/WeirdNews/2017/06/06/22729326.html

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Post 06/07/17 06:09pm
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BigW
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The Raven [5]





Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
"'Tis some visiter," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more."


Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
"'Tis some visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visiter entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you"—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!"—
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
'Tis the wind and nothing more!"

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered "Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of 'Never—nevermore'."

But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting—
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!

Edgar Allan Poe

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Post 06/07/17 06:45pm
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Morticia
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Birdshot would have been effective.
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Post 06/13/17 11:59pm
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