Feed the Birds

The squirrel-proof birdfeeder was getting low, so I took it down to refill it, and it fell apart right after I had filled it. The plastic is getting old, and it is getting tricky to fill. I was able to transfer the seed to a bucket and start over. But, I am wondering how old it is. We have sure gotten our monies worth. Maybe ten years old? The hardware store we bought it is long gone. And our boys were still in grade school...

I read somewhere on the web that America is considered such a rich country, that we can afford to feed our birds. Wish I could remember where I read it.

Chickadees are full of a song of thanks when they visit. The molting finch looks so pitiful these days. And this better seed is not to the hordes of sparrows taste.

But, I think its time to splurge and look for a new feeder. Between dear husband bonking it with his head when he mows, and the doves pecking on the cracked top, and the hail damage...it is getting very rickety. Sometimes the doves and little birds will perch on the windowsill outside and peek in at us. Curious? Nosy? Or, just keeping an eye out for the cats? When they peek in at us, we get a close up look at their iridescent feathers.

And the squirrels still try their trapeze acts clinging to the chain after repelling off the roof, and then sliding off the clear dome shaped cover. There is still plenty for them to eat from seed on the window sill and ground.

(TRAPEZE would be a good word for Scrabble. Dear husband only beat me by two points last night.)