Honestly. I never realized how much sparrows actually fly into the house. I have my craft table set up in the garage during the summer months because it is spacious and a nice breeze blows throw. Twice in the past week, though a sparrow has flown in while I was out there working. The first one bashed around a bit and then found his way out, but he made sure to squawk at me like it was all my fault that he got lost.
The second one had a harder time finding his way out. He rattled around in the furnace vent for a while, then flew to the door. For some reason he was totally flummoxed by the space between the top door sill and the open overhead door—just could not figure out how to go three inches lower and fly out. He finally flew back into the garage and perched on the hoop of a fishing net Mike has hanging on the wall. It must be that he was trying to tell me to scoop him up and take him out.
The other day while I was at the library, Mike went into the downstairs den to watch something on the television. He caught some kind of movement in the woodstove so he opened the door. In a few minutes a sparrow that had somehow made its way down the chimney (We’re naming him Santa, of course) hopped right out, then made a flying escape attempt toward the front window. Mike climbed up on the love seat, trying to catch it. He missed and the sparrow flew to the back window. Mike went to step off the love seat, but the recliner had not quite caught. He fell, wrenching his leg in the recliner mechanism.
He managed to catch the sparrow and take it outside, by the way. He didn’t kill it to insure against bad luck. However, when I got home around five, he was sitting there with a contusion the size of a softball.
Here is the funny thing. Climbing on the furniture and having bizarre furniture related accidents is such an Olga move. I have never know Mike not to take out a step ladder if he has to reach something. I told him he was turning into me as a fixed him up with an ice pack. He found that scarier than a bad luck sparrow.
The white sparrows are still hanging around our back yard. They have yet to come into the house. They are shy.
I so love song sparrows. It's true that birds have a hard time indoors... sigh.
ReplyDeleteGreetings from Cottage Country!
Our neighbor's white cat fell down the neighbors chimney and came out a very black cat. I hope the sparrow didn't get soot on your walls & furniture.
ReplyDeleteOk. I'm a little worried about these omens. Maybe you need a Life Alert-- just in case.
ReplyDeleteI'm a fan of birds staying outside. Now, I have more reasons to believe that they belong there.
ReplyDeleteYour sparrow adventures make for quite the story. The only birds we've had in the house are the not quite dead ones the cat has brought to me. Twice we had to catch them and get them outside, where they promptly died.
ReplyDeleteWell the story was funny about the "Santa" sparrow till Mike hurt himself. Hope he is better now.
ReplyDeleteSeems that when Mom Nature forgot the color for the albinos, she made up for it with extra brains.
Why birds never fly to my house?:( They only build their nests.
ReplyDeleteI too love birds. Used to belong to Audubon Society and do bird watching treks. Now that we're retired, hardly have time for those things... go figure. Noticed about your crafting 'in the garage'. Have been considering this myself. Need to purchase a pottery wheel first.
ReplyDeleteWhat fun you have with those Sparrows! I have awarded you a Versatile Blogger Award, you can see it at http://www.familyhomeandlife.com/2012/07/another-versatile-blogger-award.html
ReplyDeleteMaybe the white sparrows are just smarter and know to stay out of the house!
ReplyDelete