at least it wasn't a snake

I spent 90 minutes today standing on a stool, holding up a sheet to block the back entry way into the kitchen, so that anything that needed to come up from the basement could only go out the back door (which was propped wide open), and not into the rest of the house.

While I was doing that, Grandpa was in the basement, stalking a bird; the goal being to get the bird out of the house. And thank God for Grandpa. He heard my high-pitched, panic-stricken voice on the other end of his telephone this afternoon and was at my back door in five minutes. Literally. I don't think he realized he'd spend the rest of the afternoon on a bird hunt in my basement, but he did it anyway.

And while our basement is not that big, it doesn't seem to take much for one tiny little bird to completely disappear down there. And that bird would disappear. And be silent for multiple minutes at a time. And Grandpa would yell up from the basement and swear the bird was gone. And I would yell down from the kitchen and swear that nothing flew out the door. And he would swear it had to have. And I would swear it didn't. And then the bird would take flight again. In the basement. And we'd start the whole process over.

Eventually Grandpa gave the call up " why don't you bring the cat down here..." The cat that Grandpa had me lock in the bedroom so that 1) he didn't run out the back door and 2) he did not eat the bird. So I got the cat. And the cat was very effective at pointing out to Grandpa where the bird was hiding.

But God bless Grandpa even more, he would not let the bird be hurt. He was determined to get it out of the house without harming it. And he did. With far more patience, and far less freaking out, than I ever could have managed. Because after 90 minutes, he was just as cool, calm and collected as when he arrived. And I was standing on a stool cursing in front of Grandpa.

(And while I did not go in to the basement between the time I realized there was a bird down there and the time Grandpa left for fear of being attacked by said bird, maybe I should have. Because after the fact, when I did go down basement, I realized that a good number of my bras were laying out on the drying rack for everyone, like my Grandpa, to see.)

And did I mention that was the second bird to get in the basement today? That was the second bird to get in to the baement today.

Because Hubby and the cat got one bird out of the basement before the dawn broke this morning. But I don't know the details of that little adventure.

Hubby is currently installing a bird stop on the top of the chimney. And I took peanut butter malt balls and chocolate covered peanuts to Grandpa. And please birds, stay out of my house now.