Bossy and her brother are painting today. So Bossy thought she’d share one of her favorite bedtime stories about the House Wren who went shopping for real estate. On second thought, maybe it would be easier to show you the letter the House Wren wrote to his local real estate agent.
I heard you have some real estate. A little birdie told me. I was wintering in Norfolk, but I need to relocate. I have family scattered across the map, from British Columbia to New Brunswick, from Montreal to southeastern Arizona – with a little northern Texas, Tennessee, and northern Georgia thrown in. So I’m not finicky about where I end up, although I’m partial to the suburbs.
My last summerhouse was a real dive. OK, it wasn’t actually a house — it was a pocket. Of a trench coat. On a clothesline. You should have heard the old lady. I had to kill three other birds for that fooking location — I punctured their eggs and threw their belongings in the street! I hauled sticks, more than four hundred, from morning til night to make it all cozy, and still the wife moaned about the lack of southern exposure. But I promised her a dip in the concrete birdbath and she got all sweet-like and lined the nest cup with green leaves and old tinsel.
And just in time for our five kids. I don’t mind telling you we nearly ended up on Dr. Phil over the care of those knuckleheads. It was two weeks of regurgitated Caterpillars, Aphids, Grasshoppers, Moths, Beetles, Snails. Up to a thousand frigging meals a day! And after two weeks they flew the coop. No thank you, no kiss my ass, no nothing. Leaving us empty nesters.
So then the old lady starts blabbering about needing to go out and find herself. She always was flighty. But that’s OK because now I got my eye on a cute little number from Mexico. She doesn’t speak much English but she loves me. In fact, in her words I’m not just a House Wren, I’m her Chivirín Saltapared.
So this year I’m thinking a summerhouse that doesn’t blow in the wind. Maybe a nice little four-square on a quiet residential street. Nothing too fancy. And you don’t have to worry about getting the place broom-ready -– I’ll drag the old shite out, even if I turn right around and use that same shite for my own nest. I’m just like that.
Thank you, and happy spring.
jandondi saysApril 16, 2009 at 9:11 am
My kinda wren. Come on over, I’ve got 6 properties for you to look at.
Eric Hegwer saysApril 16, 2009 at 9:12 am
I’ve been painting all week. I’m, glad to hear I’m not the only one suffering.
Debby saysApril 16, 2009 at 9:18 am
Dear House Wren,
My place is da bomb, twigs, dust, random cat hair fluffs (but they stay inside so the family will be safe, the ungrateful wretches…). I’ll send the address and a virtual tour slideshow soon!
Da Goddess saysApril 16, 2009 at 9:33 am
The pocket of a trench coat. Inspired!
Maria saysApril 16, 2009 at 9:41 am
I’m glad this post was much more serious and not about some Water Dog.
Deb on the Rocks saysApril 16, 2009 at 10:49 am
I’ve been anthropomorphizing a lot lately too. I guess it is a side-effect of Spring!
Cat saysApril 16, 2009 at 10:58 am
Are you related to the Georgia Wren’s who summer in a broom holder behind the dustpan in our garage every summer?
Lee saysApril 16, 2009 at 11:35 am
Just come a little southeast of Philly, a short fly to the shore and your more then welcome to stay in the outside plants that your cousins rented last year. Or perhaps you would like the one of the decorative birdhouses over my kitchen cabinets that one of your relatives came in and claimed a few years back for an evening. Rentals on that one are a tad higher, you know…….the sanitation service that has to go with it and all.
Jenni D saysApril 16, 2009 at 11:41 am
I like it when Bossy shows her teeth when she smiles!
the cheap chick saysApril 16, 2009 at 12:11 pm
Awwww, cute story! And cute pic of you, by the way.
gary rith saysApril 16, 2009 at 2:41 pm
Funny, I just cleaned OUT our two wren houses!
Momo Fali saysApril 16, 2009 at 3:15 pm
You say “shite” in your bedtime stories too?! I thought it was just me.
Domesic Goddess (in training) saysApril 16, 2009 at 4:17 pm
If only it was that easy for the rest of us!!!
Reeb saysApril 16, 2009 at 7:43 pm
I like the story. At least the Wren kids don’t move back in later on.
I want a wren next in my hanging-outdoor-pocket. Guess I need to put a coat outdoors.
foolery saysApril 17, 2009 at 3:14 pm
Dear Mr. House Wren,
Can you provide three references, proof of employment, first and last months’ rent plus deposit, and a clean record? Because I’ve got some blue jays who are going out on their arses in a big fat hurry. How soon can you move in?