I know you're probably sick of my robin ranting but I don't work any longer and I have lots of time to dwell on things. Things like robins trying to run my life. They prevented us from using our front door and from doing yard work in the area for approximately 3 weeks. I was in fear of losing an eye to their sharp beaks every time I left the house. Then the babies left the nest and I thought all was well. But no! I saw the parents fornicating again - in plain view! And hanging around the Boston fern where they already had a nest. I was all like "No way Jose" and removed the plant to a screened-in sun porch. How do ya like that, avian bullies?
Today I discovered that they were executing their lewd activities in the back yard and had constructed a nest in the wisteria arbour over the back deck - where I drink wine and listen to jazz! There is no way those bastards are going to prevent me from listening to music in my garden while inebriated (me, not them). Knowing them as I do I realize that it would also be impossible to weed or mow or deadhead for the next three weeks if they were to take up residence there. So I took strong action! I told Mr. Nag to go out and dismantle the nest before that floozy dropped another bunch of eggs. Instead he hung a bunch of his freshly washed shirts out to dry in the vicinity of said nest and it is our sincere hope that they will vacate without further incident. I can't help but think that his dirty shirts might have worked to better effect. Let's hope they are spooked enough to relocate. If not I'm sure Mr. Nag will pull out the big guns (Not literally, of course. This isn't the US. We don't even have teeny weeny guns here.) It'll take more than a couple of feathered terrorists to keep me out of my garden.
Nag, I find hanging computer discs on a string keeps pigeons away. Maybe robins would be spooked too.
ReplyDeleteThey seem to have found Mr. Nag's shirts to be sufficiently threatening that they have moved to another part of the yard. Thanks for the tip. I'll file it away for next year.
ReplyDeleteWe have two varieties of aggressive birds here, mockingbirds and another species that I don't know the name of. I call them assholes. I've been pecked numerous times. Sometimes they just collide with you, a sort of a belly-buck.
ReplyDeleteWhen I worked for SCAD, the local art college, we had a whole bunch of assholes nesting near the building I worked in. Every spring was a nightmare. The freaking babies would always fall out of the nests and, of course, the mamas would go even more ballistic than usual. They drew some serious blood on the bare pate of one of my co-workers.
Those assholes gave me ulcers. (I had to go in and out of the building frequently) I hated them. I contemplated bringing a tennis racket to work. I wanted to kill them all. When I left SCAD, that was one of the top three things I was glad to be away from.
So you know how I feel. We have cardinals and doves that nest here but they don't give me any bullshit. There was also a friendly mockingbird who would get into the car with Mr. Nag. I don't have problems with all birds, just this particular pair.
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