Baby birds on our porch...aahhhh -- Now get out!

About a month ago a pair of housefinches built a nest in the space between the wall and the porch light. At first I was delighted with their choice of home site. We would get to see their babies grow from eggs to nestlings. What fun.
But after a couple of days of opening the front door and suddenly seeing a bird fly from the porch to a nearby tree -- startling me in the process -- I decided I didn't like these new neighbors as much as I thought I would. And then I saw the bird droppings all over the porch. I'm certainly not a neatnick who cleans and scrubs the house for hours every day. And I've lived with cats and dogs my entire life and seen and cleaned up some pretty disgusting messes. But the bird poop all over "their" side of the porch grossed me out.
Couple that with the birds flying away and startling me every time I opened the door, and, let's say I was in a hurry for them to go. These birds would even fly away when we peeked out the curtain in the foyer. I mean, what's the fun of having birds nesting on your porch if you can't see them? And I worried that their wandering from the nest would hurt the babies.
About a week after they moved in I used a mirror to see if there were eggs in the nest. Sure enough, I could see three tiny blue speckled eggs. Of course we had to leave the nest there now. I learned the babies should be hatched and out of the nest within three weeks or so. I looked forward to the day when they'd move out.
In the meantime, I learned to open the front door slowly and to be prepared to see a bird fly off the porch. And I learned that I if I hosed down the porch and let the water soak in for a couple of minutes before hosing again, the bird poo washed away fairly easily. Unfortunately there was nothing I could do to neaten the nest itself. I'll just say that these birds are very, very messy housekeepers.
So we finally heard little tweats coming from the nest. For the most part we let the new family have its privacy.
But one morning Lindsay and I were in the foyer when we heard the raucious sounds of the baby birds. We peeked out and saw the daddy bird standing on the porch light. Three skinny baby birds strained toward him with open beaks as he placed the food in each of their mouths. It was an exciting moment. I was glad that Lindsay was there to see it.
Within a week I saw a baby bird sitting on the nest as I came home. He/she looked at me as I stood on the porch ready to open the door and walk in.
"Hello there," I said softly. "You take care of yourself." The bird blinked and gazed at me with a contented look in its eyes. I hope that bird has a happy life.
Later that day I picked Lindsay up and we peeked at the bird family through foyer window. I pointed out the baby birds, and I think she saw them.
It was nice to share that piece of nature with Lindsay. It was nice to show her that, even though the birds were a bit of an inconvenience to us, that we still should be nice to them and co-exist with them.
A day or two later, the birds were gone. The poo-covered nest was empty.
I admire the bird parents. They took such good care of their babies, watching over the eggs for a couple of weeks, and feeding the clamoring babies. Then watching those babies go out on their own.
I'm glad they chose our porch to make their nest. But as soon as I knew they were gone for good, I took the nest down and cleaned the poo off the porch.
A few days ago a bird flew off the porch as I opened the door. I looked up at the porch light and saw a half-finished nest. I contemplated letting the birds raise another nest of babies on our porch. We would once again see babies grow from eggs to nestlings. But that thought quickly left my mind. I used a mirror to peer into the nest. No eggs yet. I took the nest down. Raise your babies in a tree or on someone else's porch, I told the birds.
After all, I don't want to be selfish. Other people want to see nature up close too.

So happy 80's music is hip again

I've always heard that it takes about 20 years for people to appreciate a time period. It had seemed true for me and my generation. When I was a teen in the 80's, there was a resurgence of interest in and excitement about the 60's. My friends and I thought we were so cool to see the Monkees in concert.
But when we left the 80's, that time period -- and the music -- seemed so gone, over and out, I thought it would never be considered cool again. The 90's came with its grunge look, and then its goth look, and I looked at the young people of that day and thought that these saggy-pants-wearing kids with their dyed black hair, nose rings and tattoos would never embrace my beloved 80's rockers and pop stars. I figured the 80's were gone forever, except of course on cassette tapes I play in my minivan.
But lately I've found new hope that the 80's music is getting its second go-round, and may even become classic and never go out of style.
My first taste of this happened a couple of years ago when my 20-something hairdresser said that she loved "these old 80's songs." At first her comment made me feel incredibly old, but then I had to smile that she was appreciating "my" music.
Since then I'd noticed more radio stations playing songs from the 80's in their line up. The Rock Band game has many fun 80's songs. I love to sing vocals to the Go Go's "Vacation," while doing the goofy feet-kicking 80's dance.
And it certainly didn't hurt the 80's when the hip "Glee" TV show covered many 80's songs, introducing those songs to the next generation and making totally cool again. I no longer need be embarrassed when I've got Rick Springfield cranked up in the minivan.
My son (who I'll make clear is not a "Glee" fan) loves 80's music. Thanks to RB knows all the words to many 80's songs including "Livin' on a prayer" and "Hungry like the wolf."
For me, and I'd imagine all my fellow 80's lovers, it's like a vacation all I ever wanted, and a new moon on Monday all rolled up into one affair of the heart.