In which I can't help myself and am threatened by birds

They look like scrawny midget chickens.

Case in point...

Little headless, cute birds...

And once a day I poke my head up by the nest to see if they have all hatched.

And they have. Pathetic, little scrawny things made of nothing but eyes and tufts of wispy feathers. I just want to hold them up to my cheek and nuzzle them and blend worms in my coffee grinder for them...
I know, I took that a step too far. Sorry.

Hubby is the voice of reason in this relationship. Every time he sees me disappear up into the wisteria, with nothing but flip flops and wriggling legs sticking out, he gets that "tone." The one where he starts out with, "Dear." But it's an exasperated, "you're really cute but if you keep doing that the mom is either going to peck out your eyes or push her babies right out of the nest." Of course I would be there to catch them and raise them in the house in my very own version of Fly Away Home, bird shaped air-vehicle and all.

But they look tired so I guess I'll take hubby's advice and let them nap for a week or so in peace.

But I won't be far away...on my garden swing.

It's a piece of an old wagon or cart of some sort. I picked it up at an antique store for $10. It made the Perfect Garden Swing. Ever. Anywhere.

I love the old hinges on the sides, which were perfect for rope handles.

The hardware on the bottom was pretty fantastic as well. I love this find....

And no Garden Swing is complete without ribbons. Ah! it's my very own "Secret Garden" swing. I'm so very much in love...