For the Birds...

What is up with me and birds?

Okay, let me back-track to our moving into the new house this past weekend. On my last blog I made a reference to U-Haul and that you should all wish us luck. Well, I think some of you forgot to cross your fingers for us. On Friday late morning Jamie received a call from our wonderful moving company stating that there had been a change in our reservation. We could no longer have the truck we needed for Saturday morning. They did, however, have a truck that was available for pickup in Bolton (about an hour away) for 3 hours on Saturday! Obviously no good. Thanks a lot eh? They did have a truck for Friday night, they could bump another guy, in turn screwing up another reservation, but we were desperate and took it. Jamie scrambled to gather up his "moving guys" (Mark, Chris, Kristen) who were more than happy to leave work early and help us out. Thank goodness for friends! So, we moved a little early but that's okay. It's just so exciting to be in the new house.

I've painted the living room already "Chivalry Copper" if you can picture that, kinda orangey-brown which sounds really gross but looks quite nice. I used probably the hardest paint technique I've ever done in my life and shall never attempt again. Again, the final product looks great. And Jennifer helped me out a whole bunch on Saturday unpacking boxes and vacuuming and things like that. I can't believe how much kitchen stuff I have/had from the wedding. It was just like Christmas opening all those boxes of new things!

We had some visitors...My Aunt Dianne, Uncle John (who hooked up our phone lines...awesome of him to do that for us!), Tracey and Richard and the girls, Vanessa and Gord and their girls. Funny story...Vanessa was changing Grayson who is 14months old and takes every opportunity during diaper changes to squirm about and run away. And up she gets and runs away and pees on our carpet!! ha ha ha! I laughed so much. Poor Vanessa was so embarassed. And I was still laughing and told her not to be embarassed, Grayson is just a baby enjoying her occasional nakedness. We are officially "christened"...lol.

Back to the pigeons...Sunday, we went to Walmart to buy some curtain rods and a few snacks. Went to Christa's to borrow her bar fridge and electric wok, small appliances to sustain us in a big way until we get our "normal" appliances. Back to the house and there were a gazillion pigeons roosting on our eave. Jamie picks up snow and I tell him, "Oh no, don't throw that. You'll hurt them".

Monday morning, I got up worried about driving to work. It is about a 45 minute drive now and I was accustomed to living only about 3 minutes away from work when we lived in Brampton.... I walk out the door and what a fright. There on my front steps is a pigeon! I put my hand to my chest and slowly walk towards it thinking it is dead. It starts to move and I get another start. I begin talking to myself, "Oh no, how can this be happening to me...I have to go to work. I'm going to be late on my first day living out of town!" So I step over the pigeon and go to the truck. I start the truck. Close the door. Start to cry. I get back out of the truck, "I don't care if I'm late for work. I can't leave a hurt pigeon on my steps and not do anything." But what to do? I go over to it. It's wing is crooked, broken. I am crying still, praying, wondering what to do. Nobody to call at 6am. What to do? What to do for the injured bird? I go back in the house. Up the stairs. To the linen closet. Grab one of my fuzziest towels and a box. Back outside. I wrap up the pigeon and think that any people across the street watching now must be making a mental note not to visit the crazy new neighbour lady. I put the warm towel wrapped pigeon in the box and notice that his nose is bleeding, his eyes are closed. I say a prayer over the box. "Lord you say in your word that you take care of even the birds. Please take care of this pigeon." I am crying again but walk to the truck feeling that it would now die in the peaceful warmth of a new red towel and the hand of God.

I called Jamie when I got to work. He wanted to know that I had made it safely. I asked him if he had thrown a snowball at the pigeons. He said he didn't because I told him not to. I told him about the pigeon on the front porch. He checked on it later in the morning. It was dead. Seriously, what is up with me and the birds?