when the bluebirds go awol

when the bluebirds go awol

We hang the bluebird feeder from the geranium hook on the porch. Fill it with yummies–crumbled suet, freeze-dried-berry-flavored mealworms (I actually scoop them with my bare hand), a few softened raisins, and a handful of blueberries. I don’t know if they...
of batteries and bluebirds

of batteries and bluebirds

I glance out the window and gasp. “Grace, come quick! Run! Hurry!” When her lead foot lands on vinyl, I hiss at her. “Shhhh! Stop! Slow down! “G-ma’s lost it now.” I’m sure that’s what she’s thinking as the other...