I open the door to the most daunting place in our home â€“ the garage.
I gasp as some sort of airborne hellion descends from the ceiling and across the man cave. I think to myself, "This is why I do not mess with this place. Menacing flying creatures may attack at any moment."
But, the garage is the only passage into my car and the husband is in Europe â€“ too far too save me from what my mind has exaggerated as a "Wizard of Oz"-ish flying monkey, so I am forced to investigate on my own what is lurking on high.
My greatest fear is that this is a bat or perhaps some sort of overgrown insect waiting to gain entry to my home or find roost on my person.
The winged invader is clearly stressed and reveals itself to be only a trapped little birdie. I am unable to discern what type of bird this is ... she is tiny, maybe only slightly bigger than a hummingbird with wings flapping so quickly I can barely even see them.
I decide the quickest remedy is to leave the garage door open and hope she finds escape.
A day passes and no progress, the little bird remains and is now taking up residence in one of the beamed hollows.
I am forced to bring in assistance.
My teenage stepdaughter has been catching insects, birds and lizards since she could crawl, so clearly she is the proper authority to free this petite critter.
However, I know a thing or two about Alisha and if she gets close enough to snare this bird, we will not be rid of the fowl anytime soon.
I alert Alisha to the situation anyway and am pleased at her knowledge and enthusiasm for the project. She enlightens me that the reason the bird cannot exit is that when they sense danger, they only fly upwards ... thus imprisoning the avian in our garage. There is no end to what this girl teaches me.
I leave her to "Operation: Free Bird."
An hour later, my stepdaughter, whose outward glamor belies the tomboy that lives within her, emerges with oversized Callaway-mittened hands and the varmint encased within her covered …Read more...