Did I get chocolates? Nope.
Lingerie? Nope, not that.
Jewelry? Uh uh. I've already got a rock.
So, what did I get?
A marvelous birdfeeder, that's what. There's a story behind this, although small-ish.
My mother and father are lovers of birds. Before I was born, they owned F. Scott and Zelda Finch. Unfortunately, the landlord of their apartment on Case Street, Evanston, turned the heat off at night. Poor F. Scott and Zelda met a cold end. So, my parents had me.
Anyway, as long as I can remember, my family has loved birds and birdfeeders and birdhouses and bird sounds and everything birdy. So, when Michael and I first got this place, I said I wanted a birdfeeder. Things happened and I forgot about getting one.
One day, his parents came to visit and we were talking about birdfeeders.
"Too much mess," said his Mom.
"Too much trouble," said his Dad.
"Good target practice," said Michael.
I was shocked. It was one of the times when I had to blink fast to keep back tears. Here was a whole family who didn't understand MY family's love of birds. I actually felt kinda invalidated by the whole thing. I think I actually said something like, "Well, WE always had birdfeeders, because birds are wonderful little spirits," or something corny and dumb like that.
I don't drop things. Three months later, we are talking about our ideal house.
"I want a big YARD where I can hang BIRDFEEDERS everywhere," I say.
"You won't drop it, will you?"
"Nope--WE hang birdfeeders in MY family."
(You know, I'm realizing I have the negotiating skills of a seven year old).
***
Michael bought this birdfeeder for me. Guess what? Birds ARE messy...there's seeds all over the place. But we've seen two finches, many sparrows, a big dove, three cardinals, and one malignant looking woodpecker. And my, it is glorious to see these creatures gracing my porch. This has to be one of the most romantic and thoughtful gifts I've ever received.
Additionally, it has Delilah Amelia climbing the walls.
