Way back in middle school, Katie decided the electives for boys were more fun than those for girls, and took shop. Our keys still hang in the hall entrance from the hook she made. . . wood carved into the letters of our last name; the paper napkins in the kitchen are still dispensed from the acrylic and wood holder she fashioned; and last but not least, her birdhouse has been sitting proudly but forlornly empty, nailed to a tree in the back yard. That is until this morning when Frank, trying to enjoy his breakfast, went to investigate a very annoying, and constant rat-a-tap-tap. I was oblivious to all this until Frank, at the bottom of the stairs, yelled for me to look out the window at the birdhouse. We have visitors. A couple. Mr. and Mrs. W. Woodpecker. Have they come to check out the real estate? We are not sure if Mr. is trying to install a more fashionable double door to their new abode or has merely found a new source of protein and fiber. Whatever, we are happy for the company and hope when they finish the renovations that they will stay for a long time. Rent is free.
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