Where will the starlings return

Where will the starlings return
Where will the starlings return
Anonim

Kolya makes birdhouses with grandfather Vladimir and his friends. Photo instruction inside >

Where will the starlings return?

STORIES FROM OUR READERS

One spring, the boy Kolya (pictured) began to ask grandfather Vladimir to put together a birdhouse. At first, the prudent grandfather decided to simply buy a birdhouse for his grandson. Began to search - did not find. But a promise is a promise: "So I'll do it myself," he decided.

(Below you will find a photo instruction "How to make a birdhouse yourself").

- Have you forgotten what you wanted to ask grandpa?

The grandson perked up, but it seems that he did not immediately realize which of the numerous requests periodically formulated, not without the participation of his grandmother, was in question. Glancing at her and instantly catching some hint, he said:

-Grandfather, let's make a birdhouse.

What! Quite a sensible proposal from the mouth of a boy of four years. I was even touched - my grandson is growing up, he is already drawn to the craft.

- Sure, come on! I answered with enthusiasm.

- Well done! wife supported. - And the starlings are about to arrive.

And, without delay, she began to collect her grandson, beaming from the upcoming business, into the yard, clearly making it clear to me that excuses, such as tomorrow or wait an hour, are in no way appropriate. I looked with deep regret at the mug of beer that I still held in my hands, the carcass of dried smelt spread out on the table next to me, mentally sighed and, diligently demonstrating good spirits and invincibility of intentions, began to pull on my boots and jacket.

We went out with our grandson to the yard. The March sky was covered with clouds, a dank drizzle rustled through the branches of trees. The snow, already spongy and shrinking from the moisture-soaked air, sagged wetly under our feet when we left the path and turned the corner of the bathhouse, where under the film, covered with a virgin snowdrift, lay a pile of lumber.

I started shoveling snow. Releasing part of the film from it, lifted it and looked inside. The boards lay tightly, one on top of the other, without any ranking in size. Offhand choosing the right one, I tried to pull it out. It wasn't there. Clamped on all sides by others, she did not move. A cold drop fell from the roof of the bathhouse by the collar. I straightened up, shivering. The grandson stomped around in joyful impatience.

- Are you cold? - I asked hopefully.

- Nah.

I imagined how now I would have to free the pile of snow and film, shift the boards to get to the right one, and then fold them again. I pushed away the thought that came to mind to go to the nearest building materials store as impractical under the circumstances.

- You know, - I turned to my grandson again, - let's prepare an instrument today, and make a birdhouse next weekend. - I decided that in the week I would just buy a ready-made birdhouse and present it to my grandson, to which, of course, he would not mind. He agreed to take care of the instrument, and we went to the workshop, where it was somewhat warmer. We carefully checked the condition of the hacksaw, planer, hammer, tape measure, square, the presence of nails, and with the consciousness of the work done for today came to the house.

- What have you already done?! - the wife was surprised.

- We have prepared everything today and next time, without wasting time, we will quickly make a birdhouse, - I explained. My wife caught my furtive glance at the beer and smelt, and a clear understanding appeared in her eyes. But in the presence of her grandson, she did not begin to supplement his comments aloud.

On Monday morning, when I got to work, I went online and typed in the search engine the cherished word. To my surprise, not a single link found clearly indicated that I would be able to purchase a birdhouse in the near future. The market, apparently, was not ready for such a rush demand. Meanwhile, something told me that I was not the only one of the grandfathers (not to mention the fathers and representatives of other social and demographic groups) who inadvertently faced the need to remove and put down the birdhouse, and for some reason were ready to pay for the solution of this problem. problems.

This coming weekend, my grandson and I made a birdhouse.

And one day in April he runs into the house.

- Grandma, arrived!

- Who?

- Starling!

- One?

- Yes.

- Well, go, look, now the second one will arrive - the starling.

After a while, it flies into the house again.

- Arrived!

- So what?

- He says to her: "Go home." And she told him: “A little later.”

And I shared my annoyance about my unsatisfied demand with a friend - an excellent carpenter. And after a while we entered the market with a clear offer.” (End of letter)

In general, everyone was in business, Kolya's grandson was at the birdhouse, and the birds were at the houses.

Today, in addition to the usual ones, children also make birdhouses with webcams, and parents can show children on the computer the life of chicks, without harm to the birds, without interfering with their environment, but only helping the birds find a home.

How to make a birdhouse yourself

Prepared by: Radmila Khakova

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