UPDATE: When we left for Seattle Friday morning there was no nest. However, upon returning from Seattle robin had fully rebuilt the nest (that would be the third nest in three days). So, grabbed some fending wire and have temporarily installed it over the cross beam. I think the problem is solved for now …

Yesterday on my way out to the shop I noticed a new addition: a Robin’s nest2. That’s it is over the sign really ticks me off. So, I checked for eggs (because I’m not a monster) and, not seeing any, I removed the nest.

This morning, I see ol’ bird-brain back at it, rebuilding the nest in the exact same spot (see pics of the new nest being rebuilt below). Well, that ain’t happening! Looks like there will be a battle of wills!

On Friday, Ann and I headed over to Seattle to help wind down mom’s house and clean up what’s left (spoiler alert, still more to do …).

The house is pretty much ready to sell, though we still have some odds and ends to remove. We had though the house would hit the market this week, but it turns out that there is a title snag with one of the two parcels. One parcel was some land and the house, while the other parcel was just a piece of land. The land’s title wasn’t filed correctly, so we have to fix that (and of course everyone related to the title purchase and payments has died).

Among the items I brought home on this trip was a surprising collection of dad’s baby congratulations, cards, letters, and wester union cables, from 1933. Also in the mix were condolence letters from the death of my aunt Anita (apparently, my grandfather said Anita was shorthand for ‘little Ann’ (Ann was my grandmother’s name, which I thought was a sweet reference) when she was only 13 in 1944.

Some of the more surprising letters and postcards were from my great grandmother (Leonie Wurlitzer Eilers), who sent my father letters, whom she addressed as Master Karl E. Eilers, II. This rather weighty title for someone under 10 years old partly reflects the fact that Dad was named after his grandfather (and Leonie’s husband) of the same name.

Another surprise was that my grandfather wrote a letter to dad in 1971 a month before he passed. In the letter he discussed his prostate cancer and the pain of urination. He still had three weeks to go before he expected to be done with his treatment (unfortunately, he didn’t last much longer).