Ah, Friday

I knew the answer would be different this morning--I had Theo out of bed, changed, finished his bottle, and halfway through his oatmeal before Steph even woke up. Success. Finally. And it only took a Gravol to do it. Oh well, you take 'em when you can get 'em, that's what we say (I think it's the official motto of parenthood). Because of the sleep, a happier day was had, at least by the adults in the family.

Theo, on the other hand, is back to his grumpy side again. We had to let him cry himself to sleep today three times. Oh, how it hurts to hear your child screaming away, and knowing that as much as you'd love to go to them, that's the worst thing you can do. Sometimes love isn't easy. But it's always a good thing, if your motives are right.

A strange thing happened today as well. I was sitting there feeding Theo his oatmeal (it's the only thing we can give him that we know won't upset his stomach or give him a rash), and I heard a thud on our window. At first, I thought the kids next door were playing and they'd accidentally thrown something against our window. Steph went out to investigate and found...

What a strange experience. We were stunned. What do you do when a bird flies into your window and then sits there stunned on the ground? Naturally, you take your infant son out to look and snap a photo, but what about after that? You can't just leave an injured bird sitting there (if nothing else, you'd have a carcass on your lawn; the least you can do is shove it over across the property line). However, since my suggestion (hitting with a shovel to put it out of its misery) was kyboshed, we (and by that I mean, Steph) opted for the "humane" thing--put it in a shoebox. I'm not sure what the next step would have been. Maybe, "gently nurse it back to health." I was thinking more along the lines of "gently nurse it back to health and train it to do your bidding as an attack bird", but judging by its size, it probably would've been feared by nobody.

But just as we tried to get it into the box (which was carefully lined with an old towel, because if there's one thing a bird wants, it's comfort--that's why it sleeps in a bed of sticks and eats regurgitated worms, I guess), it flapped its wings and seemed as good as new. Still couldn't fly away yet--I suppose it was still in shock--but at least it had all its faculties. And when we got back from a walk shortly after, it had flown the coop.

I have a correction to make regarding yesterday's post--Steph has actually been watching Y&R for 15 years now, not the 10 I reported yesterday. My apologies.

One more picture before the night (and the week) is through. Part of the charm of downtown Three Hills is its rustic character; much of it seems like it hasn't changed in years. This sign, in particular, is one my favourites; a real throw-back to times gone by...

I'm glad they haven't replaced it with a "new and improved" model. I'll bet that sign has plenty of its own stories to tell about the things it's seen happen in its lifetime. And yes, Speed Queen still does exist. Man, can you find pretty much anything on the internet or what?

That wraps up the evening for me; I'm not feeling particularly witty or urbane tonight, as you can likely tell by the quality of the preceding post. However, I do think it's great that you've come by, and I hope that you stop by again next week (I'm taking the weekend off, as I rightly should) for more tales of life in Three Hills. See you then.