Shit happens... bird shit, that is!
You would think watching baby birds was a beautiful thing. And for the most part, you would be right. For 3 weeks now I have sat in my sister's livingroom (while surfing the internet for jobs), watching a nest of barn swallows grow from featherless, peeping almost invisible blobs while their parents flitted back and forth to feed their squawking brood. Back and forth. Back and forth. and I thought I was exhausted as a new mother. Sometimes they fly for insects while other times they are trying to get your attention so you don't notice their babies are in the corner.
Last week, we noticed there were not three but FOUR babies. One was smaller than his bubbas and was hidden off to the side. Now we see 4 little bobbing feathery heads peeping their constant hunger. Back and forth. Walking on the porch is like taking your life in your hands as Mom & Pop zig and zag to get past you to feed their starving babies. There are just 2 problems. First, my sister lives across the street from THREE barns. These idiotic birds do not know their own name as they have chosen to take up residence on a porch. So we are renaming them Front Porch Swallows.
Second, they shit like you would not believe. All down the column. For a while, it was just Mom & Pop excrement. But once the babies grew up into 4 visible squawking starving progeny, they, too, have learned to turn their butts around and poop over the nest and down the column. So much for nature. It's nasty. Who knew that birds knew how to keep their nests clean by balancing their poopy butts over the edge and blasting down the sides of the column?
I have done research on Wikipedia and the baby birds stick around another week after they have learned to fly as Mom & Pop continue to feed them. So much for kicking them completely out of the nest. To take these photos, I was actually dive bombed by the babies as they perfect their flying technique. Not so much dive bomb as flying low cuz they can't get fly as high or fast as their parents and aunts and uncles. My sister says, "One week... and that nest is out of here." We will soon relocate their home to the other side of the street where there are actually barns. So much for nature. (Leesa, by now, would have taken up residence on the porch for the last 4 weeks and taken daily, if not hourly, time lapsed photos of the birds. I'm not into nature or photography as much as she is so you'll have to live with what I offer. My apologies to Leesa.)
How am I doing, you ask? Making decisions. (No details yet) Watching too much cable. Excited about Obama. IMing with friends. Looking for a job. Trying not to rely too much on medication. Taking walks. Trying not to be in too much contact with Sailor Boy. Put my clothes in a dresser. I've even been sleeping under the covers... long story. Feeling so unsure of myself and so scared at times. Who knew someone of my age could be so uncertain about tomorrow? So grateful for my sister and all of you out there who are holding me in your thoughts and prayers.