avian hideaway

What a beautiful Wednesday morning. All that much more since I’m sitting on the couch at 7:30am drinking coffee, not even thinking about going into work.

Yesterday was a workday around the house. Sharaun and her mom painted Cohen’s room while her dad and I worked on installing the mounting hardware (some custom creation of mine) for the A/V shelf in the front room. Made from scratch, it’s going to be a real homespun creation, but with the help of some folks more knowledgeable than I in the carpentry area it should be a fine finished product.

Meanwhile, the work Sharaun and her mother did has the baby’s room looking right official. I will admit, as long as you all promise not to dime me out to my wife, that because we’re reusing Keaton’s white furniture the room has a somewhat “softer” feel than perhaps would a more “hardcore” baby-boy’s room… but I’m not concerned. The masculinity I’ll surely pass along to baby Cohen will surely be enough raw manhood to overpower the influence of any powder-blue walls or white furniture. With his hairy baby chest and deep baby voice he’ll hardly even notice the birds instead of trucks on his bedding. No, I’m not concerned.

There is a family of birds who are living up under the eaves of our house, right at the corner of the garage where I can watch them through the front window. I keep meaning to evict them. I know they’ll poop on everything and lay stinky eggs and leave a huge mess. But it’s interesting to me where they’ve chosen to build their house. I have a penchant for tucked-away quarters: sleeper cabs, hollow trees (man the formatting on that ancient entry is hideous), caves, anything like that – so I sort of have a weird respect for this avian hideout. Those birds have it made. Sheltered from the weather and predators (although I’m not sure what predators they have to be wary of), using my structure as their own, etc.

I’m still going to flush them out and put chicken wire over their access… but y’know, much respect to ’em.

Good morning.

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