Every summer, I buy ferns for our front porch. To me, it's just one of those things that says summer. It's one of my favorite things to do, and I just can't imagine not hanging them every year.
Unfortunately, the birds can't imagine life without ferns either.
A few days after the ferns were hung, I noticed there were more birds than usual hanging out around the front of the house. No doubt, they were checking out the new additions and making plans to move in.
This happens every. single. year. The birds ruin one side of each fern causing them to be lopsided (not to mention mismatched and ugly) and make it incredibly difficult to water because no one wants to drown baby birds. (Even if their mamas have ruined my ferns and are covering my banister in bird poo.)
Determined not to have nests in the ferns this year, I turned to Pinterest. Pinterest led me to believe that if I put plastic Easter eggs in them, a bird would think someone was already living there.
Happily, I dug out a few leftover Easter eggs, stuck them in the ferns, and marveled at my brilliance and the benefits of modern technology. I was sure it was going to work.
The next day, I came home to find this.
The bird had kicked my egg out of the fern.
I was shocked. The plan had not worked. The bird had made a stand.
Now she thinks she owns the place, and likes to swoop and squawk every time I step onto the porch.
Every day, I water the ferns, then march back into the house fuming about the monster of a bird who scares the living daylights out of me daily on my own porch. My porch! I'm not sure what I'm going to do, exactly, but it's going to be something.
All of this makes me think about my papaw, and the year he declared war on the squirrels because they kept digging holes in his yard to bury nuts. I remember all of us laughing and talking about how crazy he was with all the little tricks and traps he used to lure the squirrels back into the woods and away from his precious grass.
Obviously, I get it now. A person can only be pushed so far.
(I also think craziness might be hereditary.)