Wednesday, July 19, 2006

So, those cute little birdies down there? Our sweet babies? MUST DIE. Actually that's sort of the problem. First there were five. Now there are two. They try to fly and flop. Onto the deck. Bill, being the love of my life, takes care of disposing of the dead/dying bodies. Yesterday one fell and seemed to be okay. So he put it back in the nest. (I'm pretty sure that it's a myth that birds will abandon a baby touched by a human.) No matter. It fell out again. So he got rid of it. But adter, he looked at his hands with we CRAWLING with tiny bird mites. Gross, right? Even grosser? When we found them all over my legs when I walked past the dog. Even grosser. When we determined Bill's itchy, um, areas, where not a result of hot and humid weather. Oh yes. Not as bad as the crabs he had back in the day, but gross nonetheless. He ran out and bought Rid, flea bombs and flea powder for the dog. We did his body and my legs and the dog. I hate to say it, but I think I might need to do my HAIR!!!! We were gonna bomb on Friday when we leave for vacation, but think maybe Bill should do it today at lunch time (you only have to be out for 2 hours...)

We need to get rid of the nest too. We are hoping it will be empty of birds when we get home in just over a week.

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