Last Tuesday afternoon, Gary called from the bird store. "How am I supposed to pick out a bird bath without you here?"
We've lived quite happily without a bird crap collector bird bath for over 20 years, but last Tuesday Gary decided that this must stop, it's hot and our birds are smelly.
So, I hopped in the car and drove to the bird store so I could weigh in on the Histplasmosis dispenser bird bath. I don't much like the tall pedestal baths because they look so unnatural and you can never get them truly level. At least he called so I could pick out the most organic of the unnatural bird baths.
I did pick out five out of the thirty or so that were at the bird store, mostly stone ones that would still look attractive covered in Cryptococcosis. I assumed Gary would pick the one he liked best.
"Which two do you want, then," he asked.
"Two? No, I don't want two." I don't even want one.
"Well, you can't have all five."
"I don't - augh. That one." A sandstone rough-hewn bowl on a low slab pedestal.
"Don't you want that one?" he asked, pointing to the most expensive bath, a dark granite faux "pond" swimming with carved Koi fish.
"Uh... Okay." What the hell. "But you know I really don't want the yard cluttered up with too much stuff."
"Right! This way, we can have a bird bath in the back yard and one in the front yard."
"Oh, hell no we won't. You can have total control over where they go in the back, as long as they stay out of the front yard. And as long as they look level."
"Well then they have to go on the patio, right next to each other."
As it turned out, it isn't that bad. One is in a garden to the left of the patio, and one is to the right, not right next to each other, so it doesn't look like we have segregated-water-cooler birdbaths. (One is white and one is black, even.)