birdhouse Archives - View from the Front Porch

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

The tree in the middle of our front yard finally had to be cut down. It had been slowly dying for several years. I was sad mainly because a family of woodpeckers lived in it. I enjoyed hearing them and wondered where they would go.

The man who cut the tree down left a rather tall stump that just cried out for a bird house (at least that is what I heard).

I put in a request to my mother who is an avid garage saler. I figured someone was probably getting rid of a bird house for a good price. Sure enough she brought one to me.

Beekeeper Brian thought it was a little silly, but he put it on the stump because he loves me.

I smile every time I look out the window or pull up to our house.

One day I saw a bird perched on top of the house. I wondered if perhaps it might take up residence.

Over the years we have had several different house guests. The most recent was Bill, the Chinese student, who spent four years with us and is considered one of our children.

Since he went off to college and our daughter Rachel moved to Huntsville, it has just been Beekeeper Brian and me. We’ve grown accustomed to being alone in the house. Perhaps it would be best if our next guest moved into the bird house out front.

My Writer’s Procrastination

By judythemorgan|2021-01-27T15:37:00-06:00February 1st, 2021|A Writer's Life, Procrastination|1 Comment

Most of the country is stuck in the throes of winter anxiously awaiting Punxsutawney Phil’s pronouncement about when winter will end. Down on the Texas Gulf coast we know that no matter what Phil says warmer weather is here.

We’ve already had several days in the seventies. Our grass is greening up and it feels a lot like summer will be early. Seventies in January are a harbinger of a long, hot summer.

We recently had the outside of our house painted. Everything looks so new, so fresh. It feels like spring is here. I started to hang the birdhouses my grandfather made many, many moons ago.

Opa had a little casita workshop behind his garage where he built birdhouses from wood scraps in different shapes and sizes. He also made stick horses, rocking horses, and doll beds that could be flipped from cradle to steady bed. All labors of love.

The birdhouses hung along the porch of his workshop. I’d have after school tea with my grandmother and watch the birds fly in and make their picks from the options.

When my grandparents passed, their daughters split the birdhouses and eventually, four of the birdhouses ended up with me. The little houses have hung along our porch and welcomed little birds.

With the warmer days, I knew the birds would soon be looking for homes. I dug the little houses out of the barn to hang this year, but couldn’t do it.

After all these years (well over sixty), the houses looked too shabby. Paint was peeling. Metal roofs were rusting. Years of nesting material was stuff inside, even a wasp nest cone.

I decided to freshen them up.

Yes, I should have been writing on the next Fitzpatrick series book, but the little birdies need fresh homes.

I gathered my supplies, staying as close to the original colors as I could. I sanded and tightened nails then painted for several days, allowing the paint to dry between coats.

One by one the refreshed birdhouses took their places on their hooks along our porch.

We hung the final birdhouse this morning. I think the birds will love the fresh options. And, I’m sure, my Opa’s smiling.

birdhouse

House Guest

A Blog by Chicken Wrangler Sara

My Writer’s Procrastination