More Projects To Unfinish

I see a pattern developing. The table I've been meaning to paint blue...still not blue. Even though I have all the equipment downstairs in a bag. The iron lawn furniture we bought last summer...still not finished being spray painted. The only reason the Amy Guest Bed has sheets and pillows is that I bought them the same day the bed was set up. I have some difficulty with these domestic projects even as I presume that a life spent Martha Stewart style is what I crave. Martha would have finished spray painting the lawn furniture and, what's more, would have painted little birds on it or something.

So nothing makes more sense than the new spring projects I wish to embark on. Our lawn guy mushed up some soil in front of the house for my heirloom tomato transplants which should arrive today. I'll now need to go back to Home Depot to get some fencing stuff to keep out our menagerie of coyotes, foxes, opossums, and feral cats. Much hilarity, I feel certain, will ensue. Also, I'm not really a talented gardener. I kill plants. All plants. With alarming frequency. But I like the idea of having a dizzying array of tomatoes at the ready this summer. I'll also plant some herbs I think.

With that project firmly destined for failure, I envisioned another. We have, in addition to a profusion of land mammals, some avian visitors to the manse. I don't know much about birds, but I'm pretty sure the blue one is a blue jay, the really red one is a cardinal, and the one with the orangey chest and brown back is a robin. I never gave much thought to birds and their relative attractiveness because for most of my life I lived in a place with only one variety of bird: the pigeon. Which doesn't invite much thought save for the most expedient ways to destroy it. I'm also aware of gulls which are on the beach and also worthy of extermination.

But as the weather has warmed and the ground has yielded bird yummies, there seem to be more of them around and, dare I say it, they are attractive. And kind of peaceful. I'd like to get them to sit still long enough for me to photograph them. Clearly what I need is a bird feeder. Now I know of the pitfalls of the bird feeder: most notably bird crap and an open invitation to squirrels; also there's a good chance they'll eat my tomatoes. Still, I feel as though were the tomatoes and the birds on opposite sides of the house, both could live unmolested.

I too am frightened by these mental developments and what they imply.