Monday, June 20, 2016

Summer Homes, Misfit Toys & Thug Rodents

Let's get the embarrassing part out of the way first: This here is a ball made of sticks. It's hanging right outside the patio door.

It's been there for over a year, too, and not on a bet. It was a giant, albeit broken, ornament on a mall Christmas tree. We took it home, removed its shiny ribbons and hung it there because...

Je suis garbage blanc.

Really, what else is there to say.

Anyway, last week we thought we talked a couple of cute little birds out of nesting in it. They acted like we made it for them. "But it's perfect!" (They were really insistent.) We explained we'd love their company, but the location was problematic:

That door is used at all hours, the afternoon sun bakes that particular spot, etc. We thought we made our point because we didn't see them again... until sunrise today...

Maybe they decided that no matter what else, it's probably safer by the door that three dogs use than it is beyond the fence where nature, cruel nature, is relentless. Our dogs don't need to know that they're not as scary as teenage squirrels, but still. It's kind of cute.

We're checking out California bird books to narrow down what our feisty little avian roommates are exactly: They're pretty small, mostly light brown and one of them - presumedly the male - sports a festive snip of orange.

But, man, they're so quick and chatty that most of the time, we're just stammering 'hello' and 'sorry!' at them, as they huff and flutter, so pissed that we ain't got no respect for sleeping babies. And what are eggs if not that?

This photo is from standing on our tiptoes trying to peek at the tiny nest inside the ball: The little blue you see? The eggs. And we're sure hoping these little guys make it after all this.

We've gotta hand it to them: The bird family might be mad as hell, but they are perfectly safe. And they seem to know it.

They might be irritated, but it's nothing compared to the squirrels who are cursing a blue streak, as little punk ass, egg sucking rodents are wont to be. They've upended every single porch nest since we've lived here. This is the first one they can't reach.

There is a bull squirrel actually straddling the fence and hollering at us. Seriously. We'll post that photo next.

(Please. No squirrel outrage. A living cartoon is happening on our porch on a 105 degree day: We're just calling it like we see it.)

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