Tuesday, January 4, 2011

You've Got Mail

There is mail in my mailbox.  I saw some of it poking out of the top of the mailbox today when I did a slow drive-by.   But I can't get the mail.  And I can't take down my Christmas decorations, either.

See, Sunday night I opened up the front door so I could go out on the porch and get the mail.  When I opened up the storm door, a bird burst out of the Christmas wreath hanging there.  I guess it was disoriented by the sudden light from the foyer, or because its cozy spot in the Christmas wreath became a mobile home when I swung the door open, but whatever the reason it flew straight at my head.  We both flapped wildly about, the bird with its wings and I with my hands, both of us caught between the front door and the storm door while the poor bird tried to escape and I tried to keep it out of my hair and out of my house without squealing like a little girl.  Did I mention this happened at about 1 a.m.?  No?  Well, it did, and nothing disrupts the peace and quiet of a National Register Historic District like one of the residents screaming like Tippi Hedren in "The Birds".  I finally managed to shut the storm door and get back inside the house--without my mail, I might add.

Monday afternoon I again attemped to get my mail.  It's not so much that I want to pay my bills as it is that I'm expecting a wallpaper sample and I really want to see what it looks like.  I opened up the front door and was reaching for the handle of the storm door when I heard a scuffling noise.  No way...But yes, the stupid bird was in the wreath again!  There it was, hunkered down on the battery pack for the Christmas lights.  Wow, it's not really a condor like I thought it was...it's just a little sparrow.  I can take this bird.  So I rapped on the glass.   "Go away, bird!" I said.  The bird gave me a look that clearly said, "Screw you, lady!"  I picked up Louis Cat and put him eye-to-eye with the bird.  In my mind, this is akin to Clint Eastwood racking a shotgun.  Reality was a bit different.  The bird did not budge.  Louis did not notice the bird.  Sigh...

So the wreath is still on the front door.  The bird is still sitting in the wreath.  And the mail is still in the mailbox.


  1. It wouldn't be building a nest at this time of year, would it? I'm thinking the battery pack is nice and warm.

    Here's a dawn (and hence dark) photo of a mourning dove cozying up to the heater in the birdbath on my deck:


  2. OMG, I am howling with laughter. HOWLING I say.

  3. I have that problem in the spring and summer but never in the winter. I'm thinking like Karen Anne, this bird has found a heat source.

    Usually when I open the door, I open it just enough to startle the bird and it flies away. But it sounds like your bird is half frozen or possessed.

    Perhaps you can approach the mailbox from the outside, I suggest you wear armour like a stocking cap, trash can lid and broom. Good Luck.

  4. TOO TOO funny! (Except for the dive-bombing and the not being able to get your mail parts ...)

  5. Jayne, I just found your blog today and I needed a good laugh. Hence, the bird story. That happened to me once, only it was in the summer and a house finch built a nest in my beautiful wreath and laid 4 eggs there before I realized she'd been scoping my real estate. We had to sneak up on the mail, no one could use the front door, and when she was finished raising her little'uns I had to throw my wreath away! EWWWWWWW! We've been restoring our 100+ year old home for 16 years. Are we having fun yet? Love your blog.