Yesterday, Johnnie and I were playing happily in her little toy nook when S came in from outside after a long morning of putting up the battens on our siding. He said, "What is that on the windowsill?" referring to the window about 18 inches from Johnnie's head.
I hadn't noticed anything, but when I looked a little gag almost escaped. "You aren't going to believe this," I said. This is what I saw...
We were stumped as to how this dead baby bird would get into our living room. I'm just glad S saw it before Johnnie did... a thought that makes me shiver. Our hypothesis was that another bird was carrying it and dropped it as it tried to escape through the closed window. We hadn't seen any evidence of birds on the civilized side of our house recently, but the in-progress side is a known haven of bird tenants. Today, while we were trying to catch a nap on the couch while Johnnie was sleeping, we heard a distinctive flutter above our heads. The nap turned into a wild
Sometimes I really hate this house.
So now we have to take EXTRA care to make sure things are sealed up between the colonized part of the house and the wilderness part. We already do take pretty serious measures to separate things, which means unzipping a plastic sheeted doorway every time we want to go into the kitchen. In addition to keeping the cold air confined to the proper areas, we can't have dead animal carcasses lying around in places where our baby, a known eater of foreign objects given the chance, toddles around stuffing things in her mouth.
Just another day at 3820.