When we bought our house 14 years ago, which began as a dump with great bones, the closest thing we had to a fireplace was our fire pit in the backyard. After pining away for a fireplace from the beginning, we finally had a fireplace built after eight years. We chose a wood burning one that is so efficient that we can burn it even when there are inversions in our valley and it can crank out some serious heat with the house warming up to 78 degrees. Ah, heaven! Here’s one of my little elves warming himself this morning in front of the fire.
The downfall to fireplaces? They attract blackbirds. And I don’t mean once every few years, I mean one to two a year. One of the many instances was when Little Man was a newborn and I was sitting in the living room, nursing him. Mister, at that moment, felt he was one with nature and would be able to catch the bird as it flew out. He was not Mr. Nature. That bird shot out of the fireplace went over my head, flew into the French doors to the backyard, flew back towards me, over my head and smacked into the full size windows right by me (it lived and flew off later). While the flight show was going on, Little Red and my oldest daughter, who shall be called Little Lady, and I were screaming every now and then. I was pretty much stuck with Little Man attached to a mammary gland and I was and still am, NO fan of birds in my home if they’re real. Fake birds? You are more than welcome to decorate the interior of my home. Real? It’s called nature and outside. Go outside. Go outside, now!
Blackbirds have a thing for vents too. Actually, anything that they might die in. I think they’re a rather dramatic bird, if you ask me. Anyway, Mister was out of town when I kept hearing a bird in the vent above our stove. I was creeped out by this bird tapping out Morse Code and flashbacks of previous times when birds got in our house, whooping it up around my head, came zooming back. Oh hells no! I was not going to open that door and let that bird out into my home. That bird knew how to get in so it’d better put on it’s thinking cap and figure its way out, for crying out loud. I was full on pregnant with the elf pictured above, Little Man. My sister, Neeka, climbed up on the roof to see about this little bird. We were convinced it was hot and hungry so I passed up some water and some birdseed that Neeka promptly dropped down the vent. She was the surgeon and I was the nurse who when told to get something long to stick down the vent for the bird to climb onto and hoist out, I was on a mission. I came marching out of the garage with a long rod to our tent. My sister saw me coming a mile away since the rod was as tall as the roof and was moving along with a waddle. Not really, ha, but I was waddling. So, I was praying in my head, Neeka was encouraging the birdie to hold on to the rod after she’d lowered it into the vent. Well get back, because this bird actually held on to the tent rod with it’s little feet, emerged from the chimney and I swear to God, flew off into the sunset! I am not a fan of blackbirds. They’re definitely a few sandwiches short of a picnic when it comes to good choices.
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