Birds in my garden

My son had come over to do some Tai chi with me, and to distract myself from the pain in my thighs, I was looking over his shoulder at my bird feeder.

‘I really must sort out my tits,’ I said. This received a lot of ‘Oh Mum!’ comments, eye rolling and silent ‘what are you like?’ sighs.

I don’t blame him really. I have recently become obsessed with my bird feeders. I miss the subtitles on complicated Scandi thrillers because I’m looking out of the window, I don’t listen when people tell me important things because I’m trying to identify a small feathered friend, and I squint a lot which creates wrinkles. But I am unrepentant.

I’ve learnt a lot although I am still mystified by a lot of it. Now, I’m not one for fat shaming, and everyone eats a bit more at Christmas, but honestly my birds ate twice what they usually eat on Christmas Day. I put it down to it being sunny but I was shocked when we came home from spending the day with my family to find one bird feeder completely empty. I had filled it late the previous day. It should have lasted a lot longer than that.

But I am a very indulgent bird feeder. I didn’t make them do Veganuary. They adore mealworms and I think it’s those that brought them to my feeder when it had only been up for about an hour. I’d had feeders before, hung on a tree, but although they looked pretty they were difficult to refill.

Now the birds are much nearer to me (through the window) and give endless entertainment. I have even (don’t judge me) started to give them nick names. There’s Little Trotty Wagtail after a poem we read at school. There’s Mr. Nuthatch - they’re not even clever, literary type names – they’re on a level with people who call their cat Fluffy, but as one who’s first cat was called PooPoo it’s hardly surprising. And of course, Mr. and Mrs. Blackbird. I haven’t named the tits, mostly because I’m still confused by them.

The other day, to challenge myself, I waited until I’d had my own lunch before rushing out to fill the recently emptied feeder. (There is another feeder with exactly the same worm/seed combo right there but they don’t like this feeder as much.) I rushed my sandwich and only half ate my apple as if the bird population of my garden would starve to death if that feeder wasn’t filled instantly.

But I must sort out my tits! There are Blue Tits and there are Great Tits and then there is something which could be another sort of bird altogether, or a female Great Tit with very little yellow on her. I’d like it to be a Black Cap.

My son didn’t come to do Tai Chi with me the following week. I think I’ve scared him off. But the birds? They’re absolutely fine!

February 16, 2020
Birds in my garden
By Steve Wilson-Fforde

My son had come over to do some Tai chi with me, and to distract myself from the pain in my thighs, I was looking over his shoulder at my bird feeder.

‘I really must sort out my tits,’ I said. This received a lot of ‘Oh Mum!’ comments, eye rolling and silent ‘what are you like?’ sighs.

I don’t blame him really. I have recently become obsessed with my bird feeders. I miss the subtitles on complicated Scandi thrillers because I’m looking out of the window, I don’t listen when people tell me important things because I’m trying to identify a small feathered friend, and I squint a lot which creates wrinkles. But I am unrepentant.

I’ve learnt a lot although I am still mystified by a lot of it. Now, I’m not one for fat shaming, and everyone eats a bit more at Christmas, but honestly my birds ate twice what they usually eat on Christmas Day. I put it down to it being sunny but I was shocked when we came home from spending the day with my family to find one bird feeder completely empty. I had filled it late the previous day. It should have lasted a lot longer than that.

But I am a very indulgent bird feeder. I didn’t make them do Veganuary. They adore mealworms and I think it’s those that brought them to my feeder when it had only been up for about an hour. I’d had feeders before, hung on a tree, but although they looked pretty they were difficult to refill.

Now the birds are much nearer to me (through the window) and give endless entertainment. I have even (don’t judge me) started to give them nick names. There’s Little Trotty Wagtail after a poem we read at school. There’s Mr. Nuthatch - they’re not even clever, literary type names – they’re on a level with people who call their cat Fluffy, but as one who’s first cat was called PooPoo it’s hardly surprising. And of course, Mr. and Mrs. Blackbird. I haven’t named the tits, mostly because I’m still confused by them.

The other day, to challenge myself, I waited until I’d had my own lunch before rushing out to fill the recently emptied feeder. (There is another feeder with exactly the same worm/seed combo right there but they don’t like this feeder as much.) I rushed my sandwich and only half ate my apple as if the bird population of my garden would starve to death if that feeder wasn’t filled instantly.

But I must sort out my tits! There are Blue Tits and there are Great Tits and then there is something which could be another sort of bird altogether, or a female Great Tit with very little yellow on her. I’d like it to be a Black Cap.

My son didn’t come to do Tai Chi with me the following week. I think I’ve scared him off. But the birds? They’re absolutely fine!
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Comments on this post (2 comments)
- Katie Fforde says...
  
  Dear Ann,
  Thank you so much for taking the trouble to write to me. I am so glad you can relate to my books, and yes, we do seem to have done a lot of the same things in life! I have never actually run a B&B but I do stay in them and have high standards! (I also love Four in a Bed, which is a very guilty pleasure, but it taught me a lot about the business.)
  
  Ido hope you are coping with lockdown, keeping yourself busy and amused. To begin with I seemed busier than ever. Everyone around me seemed obsessed with making sour dough bread and endless cakes. For a while I felt obliged to join in! I enjoyed being able to write without worrying about visitors. But of course, we missed the family.
  
  I am currently writing a book set in the l960’s which is a new thing for me. I hope I can pull it off!
  
  Very best wishes, Katie x
  
  July 14, 2020
- Ann Winter says...
  
  Katie Fforde, What a joy you are, thank you so much for just being you, My husband died last year and your books have really seen me through some dark times, I am 83 years young, married 58years and whenever I have a puddle to go through, I pick up one of your books and in no time at all am transported to a world I generally can relate to, yes we did have a canal boat, we did spend many happy hours at Auction rooms, had a lovely dog who had a litter of pups in our bedroom and so on and so forth so thank you so much for many happy hours and am looking forward to reading your new book as we had a B and B too. I think we must have been related in a past life lol.. Having now discovered your blogs, I shall take delight in those too.. Continue to enjoy your life and writing and hoping you and your family stay safe and well
  
  July 13, 2020

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Birds in my garden

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