It’s that time of year again. The time of year when I pack all of the Thanksgiving and Fall decorations back into their small storage box, and then drag the four boxes of Christmas ornaments, lights, and– oh yeah– the ginormous box containing our faux tree out of the garage. Why faux? Well, here goes: I don’t have to water it. The cats won’t hurk up real tree pieces. The toddler won’t pull off real tree branches. No sap. I repeat, no sap.
I admit that I did trade the fake wreaths this year for real evergreen wreaths. I even wired pinecones into each wreath. I proudly hung them on the door and the front window yesterday, breathing the intoxicating scent that really tells you that it’s Christmas time once again. Then last night, I remembered that I wanted to bring in my Boston fern, so I opened the front door. Apparently the wreaths were real enough to have attracted a finch who felt that the wreath on the front door would make a lovely home for the winter. Hence the freaked out finch that flew through my house up into the foyer around the chandelier, ultimately ending up in the master bathroom being stalked by a very stealthy and, dare I say, fast cat.
After shutting a very unhappy cat in the watercloset (don’t worry, the hubby let her out later), we spent fifteen minutes trying to carefully capture the bird who could fly– sort of. I think the cat hurt his wing, but I’m neither a veterinarian nor am I trained in any matters involving diagnosing ailing wildlife. We did finally catch the poor finch once he flew into the shower. And after a few tense moments, we let him go in the backyard. I wanted to let him out in the front yard– What if he has a wife? She won’t know where he is?! I pleaded hysterically. I don’t want him to hop into the road, B said. He won out.
When we came back inside, I pulled the wreath off the front door and bemoaned the poor bird’s plight.
I can report that this morning when I looked around the backyard for any sign of our finchie friend, I saw nothing but leaves on the ground. Though, I wasn’t wearing my glasses and there were a lot of leaves on the ground. Take that however you will. I’m still feeling some sense of guilt over the whole thing. Of course, today I did put the wreath back on the front door, reasoning that I’ll knock on the door before I open it. A little backwards, right? Yeah, well, that’s what happens when I change my ways and go with the real stuff over the fakey fake. Snow White, I know I’m not.