two old geezers

That's what we've become. We've had birdhouses hanging on our fence for more than a year. Finally some activity. A Carolina wren is working her tail feathers off trying to build a nest. Tom and I stand in the kitchen and watch her try to figure out how to get a twig that is twice the length of her body into that tiny hole. It would be a piece of cake if she put it in her mouth the way one would a tootsie pop, but she (he?) carries it broadside. Lots of flutter and frustration, with enough success when the twig is flexible to keep her trying. We won't get a thing done around here if a family appears. And John, I don't want to hear it. You do egrets and herons, in flight even. I'm into wooden birdhouses. They don't move.