Poor, poor Birdie

We've had a live-in visitor.  Remember the nest we pulled from the dryer duct on Sunday Morning (6 days ago)?  Well, Mrs. Birdie and her significant other didn't let the packing tape grid put a damper on their baby plans.

I've heard them all week, and figured they were just 'starting over'.

Well, start over they did!

 They had a deadline to make:

And I have laundry to do.

So we transplanted the little blue eggs and nest (pretty solid 3 foot nest, compared to the last one) to a safe bush where the boys couldn't bug them, but the eggs got a little more love than they needed in the process, and probably won't survive the rain that's coming our way.  Besides, everybody had to handle the poor things.

Poor Birdie and her eggs.  Poor, poor Birdie.

*I know that you should never EVER touch a mama's baby birdie eggs...but we didn't really know how else to get them back in their nest...The poor mama has been looking for her babies all afternoon...I still hear her scritchity-scratchity in the vent (now covered with a screen) but there's a good 6 inches I'm afraid she'll try to rebuild...or something...(Hint, Hint, Nick and Tiffany...do you have a ladder we can borrow?)

**We also had a very in depth discussion about why the birds are going to die.  It started out with being gentle, talking about smells, abandonment, and needing to stay warm, but Tanner just kept on asking questions.  I finally just had to say, "Tanner, the baby birds will die.  There's no way around it.  I'm sorry for your loss."  And that was the end of that.  Made me smile...that little inquisitive mind of his just needed the truth.  The whole truth, and nothing but the truth.  I guess when you've seen cattle slaughtered and then cooked on the stove, one needs to understand the full circle of things.  And I needed to finish screwing the duct onto the back of the dryer.  After all, I had laundry breeding in my bedroom as I was sitting there explaining life to a five year old.

In happier news, WE HAVE TWO RUNNING CARS NOW!!!

YIPPIE!

We were down to one for a week, then down to none, but we hobbled to Rexburg in the Neon on a prayer to get the Tarus' starter rebuilt.  Turns out it just needed a new coil (I have NO idea what that means.  I'm just regurgitating what I've heard 'the men folk' talking about).  Ryan got 'er hooked back up and my husband has me a car again!!!

That said, we've saved about $40 in gas this week.  LOL!  I still plan on riding bikes nearly everywhere this summer...especially since I got an early Mother's Day gift...a bike child carrier thingie!!!  (We got one from a friend for free, but it was missing the main clamp that held it on the bike...kinda essential for Taylor to sit in it.)  Ryan was so tired of hearing my suggestions of where we could walk/some of us ride to find a replacement, he just went and bought a new one when he picked up the fixed part.

So if you see a mother with her three ducklings, one strapped on behind her and two more being pulled in a bike trailer, feel free to wave, but don't honk or whistle or cat call...I might just wreck the whole load.  :)  Okay...maybe a little honk would be okay...just don't expect a wave back.  Maybe by the end of the summer I can do ' no hands!' or just one hand.  But it's going to take some practice.

And some humility to stick with it.