My husband's spring fever is at an all-time high this year. He is full of energy, smiles while talking of manure and topsoil, and practically skips out the door at the prospect of playing in the yard. I get the feeling that he may spontaneously twirl and find himself in a true Sound of Music moment. His latest obsession is his new bird house. My husband decided earlier in the year (yes, January) that he really wanted to get a feeder for the yard, ya know, so we can enjoy the nasty creatures that are birds. He mentioned this again. And again. Until finally, he came home with a feeder. I don't know how this little wooden seed container has managed to work itself into nearly all of our reent conversations, but it has. I find him gazing out the window with a wistful look in his eye, only to be disappointed that no birds have visited. After a couple days, he started making hostile comments, saying things like "I'll give it a few more days, but if I don't see any birds at my feeder, I'm gonna shoot them!" (Shooting at birds that aren't there? Really?)
    You'd think the man was the first to land on the moon when he finally saw a bird at the house. He went rushing over to the feeder to get a closer look, scaring the birds in the process until they (his words) "ran away". Physiology 101: Birds FLY. And can you imagine the terror those birds must've felt as they nibbled the seeds in peace and harmony, only to look up and see this giddy, large, Italian running full speed toward them and their dinner? That'll keep 'em coming back. So if you find yourself in our neck of the woods, feel free to stop out and see our latest attraction, the bird house.