The couple who owned the house (affectionately dubbed the Farmhouse) before us were the nicest of elderly folk. Mike always tinkering, Elsie always welcoming with a big hug and stories from way back when. As I walked around the fields, I could see all the little details Mike put into his woodwork years ago, and it always makes me smile when I realize how stereotypical this place can be. Red barn, check. Cows, check. Horses, check. Abundance of John Deere machinery, check. Fourteen bird houses, check, check, check.
Unfortunately in the past week or so, they’ve been coming back to take some of their birdhouses (and put them where, I have no idea!), and we’re now down from fourteen to eight. Womp womp. So instead of taking pictures of just the birdhouses, I wandered around and went snap happy. Here are some of the highlights.