Mud and Sawdust

Spanish Bluebells abound in our garden.  They are pretty when they are flowering, in shades of blue and pink, but unlike the English ones they have no scent and they are frowned upon by the English purists and regarded as something of a weed.

Apparently they can also cross-pollinate with the English ones and create some sort of bastardized bluebell that takes over the countryside.  An invasion of bluebells....horrors.... I could think of many worse things marching across the countryside (boots, boots on people with guns, invasions of slugs or hornets, rabid dogs, ... add your own worse fear here).

F kind of understands, and for years did battle with the Spanish bluebells in our garden.  She opened the office window this morning to permit me to supervise Mr B putting up a bird box on the back wall of the house and we spied hundreds of Spanish bluebell shoots making a 'run for it' across the piece of scruffy grass between us and the neighbour.  I think she has lost that battle.  

As for the bird box - it is a bit sunless over that side of the house but it is sheltered and as far as access by cats and squirrels goes, possibly the most inaccessible spot on our property.  It remains to be seen what the blue tits think about it.  (Different birds like different sized entry holes so my humans set this bird box to blue tit size.  I wonder whether I will be able to see them from the office window sill.)

That egg-shaped thing; it looks like a security camera on the back of the house. (The old security light hasn't worked in the 14 years we have had this place.)

On the subject of bird boxes, F also bought what looks to me like a teapot, but she assures me is really a bird box: - for robins, who like open fronted nesting places.  I know that about robins.  They like slots in our wood pile for instance, and it makes them easier to catch.  F covered the wood pile this year (much to my disappointment) when we saw a robin fly in to investigate the possibilities.  She has arranged for Mr B to put the teapot up on the garage wall (spout pointing down for built in drainage) behind a bush on the other side of the wood pile.

...with bush pulled out of the way to photograph it...

Out of reach.

I had a rough weekend.  Small humans came to stay.  I hid upstairs, in the shed, in the garage, and upstairs again.  It rained all weekend which was generally miserable, but the small humans were dragged out to the garage to engage in various constructive activities, which looked to me more like destruction as they stomped on bits of stick to bust them up for firewood, and helped Mr B cut plywood into smaller pieces to build something.  

Mud and sawdust.

It is a combination that seems to impress small humans.  All it needs is a pot of indelible paint to become a small human nirvana.  F has promised to make some small human overalls and painting smocks.  I suspect that means indelible paint is set to join the mix.

One good thing to come out of the small-human visit is that they didn't eat all their chicken and bacon.

That is, however, the only positive aspect of the visit that I have yet identified.

(Me supervising in the garage the day BEFORE the small humans arrived.  A relaxed day that was.)