Birdhouse bother

Last spring, we discovered that a pair of starlings considered the sheltered space under the roof tiles at Hilltop House a suitable place to raise a family. You can see more pictures of them here.

YUMMY. Mrs. Starling brings food for her hungry chicks.

Although we appreciated observing the chirpy little chicks and the hectic feeding, we were not entirely overjoyed with all the mess in the attic. This year therefore, we decided to provide more suitable accommodation for the family.

Building materials were purchased, books were consulted and the construction plans approved, before we started the process of sawing and hammering. Everything had to have the correct dimensions, so that Mr. and Mrs. Starling would be tempted by our Bed & Breakfast. There was no lack of fine features such as strategically placed vents and an interior climbing wall for small baby birds with unsteady feet. Husfruen even sacrificed her favourite turned oak pen, just so that the house would have a nice perch for the parents to sit on while feeding the little ones.

BUILT TO STANDARD so that both the nesting box and the hole (5 centimeters) will fit starlings.

To make our little establishment more attractive still, it was weatherproofed, painted shiny white and equipped with a sign announcing that there was room at the inn. The penthouse suite was audaciously named the "Love nest", as an unabashed call for amorous excesses. We even wrote it in English, in case we were dealing with migratory birds that were not quite fluent in Norwegian.

NOT FOR THE BASHFUL. We brazenly encourage bedauchery, but obviously expect that the happy couple that will move in is properly wed - at least for the summer.

The finished birdhouse was hung high on the wall above the garage roof, safely out of the reach of our neighbour’s cat, on a warm but shady place, close to last year's residence.

SAFELY FIXED to the wall in a suitably sheltered and shady place.

When the “Vacancy” sign was up, there was no shortage of young winged lovers that came to inspect the premises. Several tits stopped by to have a closer look, but Mr. and Mrs. Starling remained unimpressed. We knew we had lost, when we repeatedly saw them land on the roof tiles with beaksfull of building materials, and it wasn’t long before there was chirping and twittering from their little babies.

UNGRATEFUL BIRDS prefer illegal squatting under the roof tiles to lodging in their own house.

Such ungrateful birds! We felt totally rejected, and although huffy that our efforts were so little appreciated, we let the birdhouse hang anyway. It was just possible that other winged visitors would be a little more appreciative of our offer of free lodging.

It turns out that they were, but perhaps not quite as we had imagined.

We had admittedly seen the occasional bumblebee buzzing around the house, but you know how bumblebees fly haphazardly around where they want to go, before they crash-land as close as they can and walk the rest of the way. We thought it was merely a coincidence that some of them crawled into the birdhouse. It wasn’t until the other day, when Husfruen was out working on the garage roof, which we are currently repairing, that we found out what really went on in there. I knew something was wrong when Hubby coughed a little uneasily behind me and gently asked me to look up. From the bird box sounded an angry rumble, and suddenly a whole swarm of bees hummed out of the hole. Just then, we were happy that bumblebees are not exactly precision fliers, though they got too close for comfort anyway. It was quite obvious that they aimed for our faces, so we just had to drop our tools and run for safety indoors.

IMMINENT DANGER. Best to get away when a gang of angry bumblebees are on the warpath. 

Here we were in a bit of a predicament. We did not really want to approach the bumblebees’ hive again, but the garage roof is currently unprotected, and we cannot possibly wait until autumn to get that job done. Unfortunately, we had a tough decision to make. Now, it is probably possible to move such a hive, but the birdhouse is screwed to the wall from inside, so it couldn’t have been done without damaging the hive anyway.

When the decision was taken, Hubby had the daunting task of getting it done. Wearing a padded thermal suit, leather gloves and a crash helmet, he climbed up the ladder, equipped with bug spray and gaffer tape. The birdhouse was sprayed thoroughly through the hole before it was taped shut. Not nice! You feel like Dr. Mengele for being involved in such a mass killing, but we had no choice.

OFF SEASON. This B&B will not be reopened until next spring.

Now the birdhouse will be aired out for the better part of a year before it will hopefully be ready for new lodgers next year. The garage roof should be ship shape by then, and we promise not to evict anyone, no matter who moves in - as long as they have feathers.

Oh deer!

This weekend we drove across the mountain to Skien to celebrate my mother’s birthday. One of the nicest things about visiting her is seeing all the animals that roam around her house. Although she lives less than a hundred yards from the main road, there is an abundance of wildlife in the small strip of forest stretching past her house and down to river. We have seen hares and badgers, foxes and moose, and even lynx and wolves. But roe deer are the most frequent visitors. Sometimes, they seem to wander around the garden all day long. Obviously they must thrive there, but after months of cold and floundering through half a meter of snow, there were some scrawny creatures that met us this time.

The young male that was born last year seemed to struggle especially much as he dug desperately through the deep snow searching for something edible. When he came closer to us, we saw that he staggered a little as he walked and it was painful to see how emaciated he had become.

Frequently, they gnawed on the pine bushes in an attempt to find something green, but judging by how long they spent chewing every mouthful, this was tough stuff.
We were worried that they might not survive this winter as there are still several months until spring arrives with fresh green shoots to eat, so we drove to a farmer’s outlet to see if they could recommend some fodder for them.

They said corn pellets were the thing. It only cost 7 GBP for a bag of 25 kilos, so it was not exactly expensive. The saleswoman thought the animals might be a bit sceptical at first, but she was confident that they would soon get used to the taste of it.

One problem was how to lead the deer to the food. They use tracks that they rarely stray from and we could hardly expect my 80-year-old mother to wade through snow up to her bum to feed them every day. Hubby found out that he would shovel a path for them, and lay a trail of pellets up to the food tray.

It was not long before one of them came strolling along to see what all this strange activity was about. They were reluctant to go all the way to tray though, but as night fell, we could see three animals there, munching away. There was some pushing and bickering between them, so it was clear that they liked their new goodies. I hope everyone got some.

The next day the tray was licked clean, and numerous tracks revealed the night’s activity.
Now that we have travelled back to the West country again, it's up to Mum to feed them. Seeing as she is such an animal lover, she’ll probably take that task seriously.

Do you have deer in you garden? Maybe it would be a good idea to put out some food for them. A little extra nutrition can mean the difference between life and death, as many animals succumb in such harsh winter months. A salt stone nailed to a tree or post will give the deer valuable minerals even during a normal winter.
Although we curse them in the spring, when they eat our tulips or wreck the bushes, we do appreciate them, and want to enjoy the beauty of their company for many years to come.

Dog days of summer

They have come and gone. But, I dearly hope, not in the sense that the hottest days of summer are already behind us. As far as western Norway goes, summer has been a disappointment so far. As always the spring was nice, but for weeks now the daytime temperature has hardly reached 20 degrees Celcius (68F). We have had a little sun today, but mostly it has varied between cloudy, drizzle and full on downpour.

No, the “diēs caniculārēs”, as the Romans used to call it, just refers to the fact that we have had a dog visiting for a week. While some friends of ours went off on a little holiday, they left their Norfolk terrier Tessa with us at Hilltop House. We are debating whether or not to get a dog, so this was also a test to see how we liked it.

PLAYFULL. Tessa likes to play every now and then.

Tessa is the cutest little thing. She is tiny, hardly any bigger than a cat, and has a very pretty ginger colour. We were prepared for her to be a bit restless and sulky from missing her family but she seemed to be in a quiet, good mood all the time. No barking, except for when there was a cat around, no nagging and no mess. It would have been easy to forget that she was there at all. Every evening when she was tired, she went into her cage and slept all through the night.

It was incredibly nice every morning to be met by someone who was so happy to see us that she almost fell over from wagging her tail so hard. We are not the fittest people in the world, so it was also good for us to have to go for walks several times a day. Tessa loved her walkies. There would always be something interesting to sniff, especially all the frogs that came out in the wet weather. One day she found an old flat football that she just wouldn’t leave behind. Craning her neck to hold it up from the ground, she carried it all the way home. Quite an achievement for someone with such short legs. That football was her favourite toy while she was here.

WELL BEHAVED. - But, where's my titbit?

We are still undecided about getting a dog. Not to mention what breed to get. We have tried numerous “breed selectors” online but none of them come up with the same breeds. I think that the Belgian collies are lovely dogs, but they may be too much for us to handle. We’ll see. Perhaps you have some advice for us?

ENJOYING. Being scratched behind the ears is just sooo good.

Hope you have all had a good weekend and wishing you a good week ahead. J

My Little Pony

On the plot of land next to ours, our neighbour keeps his mare. She’s a Norwegian Fjord horse, a breed from the mountainous region of Western Norway. This relatively small breed is one of the world’s oldest and has been used mainly as farm horses. All “fjordings” as we call them are dun in colour with a light coloured mane and a dark dorsal stripe that goes all the way from fringe to tail.  They are beautiful and somehow seem to belong to the nature and rugged landscape in this part of the country.

Fjordings are usually known for their good temper but this mare was getting cranky and bored. Our neighbour thought she might be lonely, so he got her a pet – a tiny Shetland pony. At first she didn’t liked him one bit. He was homesick for his mum and very clingy but she wouldn’t offer any kind of consolation. Somehow though, he must have won her over, because now she won’t let him out of her sight. He is allowed to come over and greet us but she gets very suspicious if we try and pet him.

One good thing about having horses around is that they will greedily eat all fruits and vegetables we would otherwise throw out. Now, we don’t feel so bad about not having eaten them ourselves.

NOM NOM NOM. Bite sized pieces of apple are very popular.

HE HE HE! Hubby told a joke. 

The flutter of tiny wings

We have recently discovered that our house is home to several families with children. Some starlings have decided that the sheltered space under the roof tiles would be a good place to bring up their chicks.

We think they may have tried in the woodshed first, because we found an abandoned nest there. It probably wasn’t safe from the neighbour’s cat. The woodshed is one of the stops on his patrol of the neighbourhood. Today he’s been lying in the long grass for hours staring longingly up at the roof but alas; he can’t reach it.

Being bird parents certainly looks like a lot of work. Mama and Papa starling have busy days, constantly flying in from the forest with their beaks full of bugs and grubs – probably very yummy for little hungry chicks.

On the opposite side of the house a couple of blue tits are nesting under the tiles as well. They’re not so busy it seems. Perhaps little blue tit babies don’t eat as much.

Well, we don’t really mind having squatters around. We won’t try and slap them with a big bill for the rent or anything but we are a little concerned with them making a proper mess in the loft. Next year we might board up the holes and hang some birdhouses in the trees to offer them proper accommodation. For this season though, we just wish them good luck with their little tweeters.