The War on Doves

No, I'm not speaking of hawkish attitudes toward peace activists.
Real doves.
It's an annual necessity, doing battle to keep the local avian population from taking advantage of our unfortunately inviting house - there're funny little "shelves" at the tops of our columns, or piers, or whatever they are called on buildings of this style, with terrific protection from the elements because of the porch roof overhangs, that are irresistible to nesting birds.)

If they are allowed to build, the mess from eggs and excrement will be horrendous, (I'm not sure why eggs end up on the walk below -- are doves particularly clumsy?), and if I don't get them early, Himself will have nothing to do with it, (he's too tender-hearted to disturb them if he thinks the eggs have already been laid.)

So I'll have to be vigilant for the next few weeks.

Well, at least it's entertaining to small children in the neighborhood to see me hopping up and down, seemingly throwing rocks at my own windows, whooping and waving my arms about like a mad thing.