Strictly speaking, this isn’t a ‘Pot to Plate’ post.
This is counselling.
Mr Six is a very caring man. He loves to help. He’s one of the good ones.
And to this end, he had been quite keen to have a bird table when the garden was finished.
When we were visiting my lovely sister-in-law a few months ago, she levelled a warning at my husband – do not start feeding the birds; they’ll eat you out of house and home.
And she was right!
Last year Mr Six started off with a cheap bird feeder, filled with seeds or something, hung from the tree. And then a second appeared. This might have been filled with something different.
Anyway, the birds came. And they did indeed eat a lot.
We also had squirrels. Which is sweet.
But they are clever little buggers and will destroy your feeders.
So Mr Six had to buy squirrel proof feeders. And things to put suet blocks in to. And tubes for fat balls. And things for nyger seeds. And sunflower hearts.
Then we had a brambling. Which, apparently is a bit of a thing
The birds came in droves (is that a thing?) so Mr Six started to split out the food. The larger birds prefer the suet so Mr Six leaves this food in the feeders in the trees. Whilst the smaller birds will come down to the seed feeders in the garden.
They now all eat a lot.
Basically, he’s now the birds’ bitch.
We used to be cool.
Now he wears crocs.
And spends Saturday nights, up a ladder, in his pyjamas, Filling the bloody feeders…