Damn birds!

So, you know when you have good intentions, and it all turns horribly wrong?

Now, as you know, I have recently moved into a fabulous new flat with a delightful garden. It's all very exciting, and I'm looking forward to the whole "actually keeping plants alive" thing that is the whole goal of having a garden.

I also get a fair bit of wildlife in my garden. There are foxes that use my garden as a pathway into the neighbour's place, which is very cool. There are also birds in my garden, which I do really like. I like the birds, for the most part. They're pretty and make lovely bird noises. You know, chirping and whatnot.

In my garden planning, I've been looking at furniture and plants and all sorts of things, but I decided what the garden really needed was a birdfeeder. You know, for the birds and whatnot.
I took a peek on eBay, and found a birdfeeder that looked very pretty. It had a flat tray for birdseed, three hanger things for hanging birdseed and a water tray. Perfect, say I! I bid on it, got it and within mere days it had been delivered to my house.

I went to my local Woolworths and bought some birdseed for the tray bit and and some hanging birdseed things for the hanging bits and put it all together.

And, I have to say, it looked pretty freaking good. I set it all up, and the next day, although I hadn't seen any birds yet, I noticed that the tray was empty.

The birds have discovered my feeding station, I though. Delightful!

I refilled the tray and waited in anticipation for my first bird sighting.

About a week later, I got it. I went to feed the fishes in the morning, and noticed some birds eating from the tray.

Was I delighted?

Sadly, no.

Because the birds that decided to visit my feeder? Pigeons.

That's right. I was the inadvertent feeder of the Balham horde of rats with wings. God damn.
So, now my back garden has become some kind of pigeon sanctuary. And I believe my hatred and/or fear of pigeons is well documented.

And so it happens, that as I was attempting to attract birds, now I have to figure out how to get rid of them. Because I haven't bought my garden furniture yet, but when I do, I don't want it covered with pigeon poop. Gross, gross, gross.

Such a disappointment. Stupid pigeons. Always ruining my fun.

Shattered Ambition

So, when I moved into my new place, I was super excited about all the decorating and painting and unpacking and arranging of furniture. I went out the weekened after I moved in and bought my paint.

The living room is going to be Sea Urchin 6 (a very light greeny colour, for those of you too lazy to click) on three of the walls, and Spainsh Serenade 1 (a dark purpley colour) on the wall that faces the couch. I've got the purple couch and the white chair, so the trim will be white and it'll look super. It'll be very modern and calming.

My bedroom is going to be Waterlily Blush 3 (a dusty rose sort of colour). The furniture is all going to be white, as is the trim. It's going to be very pretty and girly.

The hallway is Rum Caramel 4 (a warm taupe-y colour), which is very warm and inviting without being too blah and neutral. Again, the trim will be white.

So, I buy the paint for the walls, and for the trim (Brilliant White in Eggshell). And I paint two thirds of the hallway.

That was about a month ago.

I've done no painting since. In fact, the thought of doing any painting makes me so tired and exhausted that I want to lie down and have a nap right here.

I know I should just get it done, and I'll be so happy because it will look so good and I'll be so glad it's done.

But, apparently, I am just that lazy. I'm hiring a painter. To be fair, he's a friend of Buffy's so it's not like I'm getting in quotes and having contractors and all the whatnot. But still. I am going to pay someone to paint my house because I am too lazy. I am shamed.

(But I bet it's going to look even better. I mean, he's a professional. I'm a mere amateur! I'm sure he'll do much better work. And probably won't get tired and sulky and sit down with a cup of tea and an episode of Scrubs when he should be working. And now I can say things like "Oh yes, my painter recommended I do .... you know, something involving paint" and impress people with my grown-up-ness.)