Just when we have a break in the weather, just when my flowers begin to burst, just when I got the balcony all gussied up, I return home to make cheese and green chili pepper stuffed top sirloin burgers on the grill, and look at what I find:
The mourning dove sitting on two more little eggs...
No grilling, no loud noises or sudden movements, and no swearing for the next three weeks as I watch my flowers wilt in this heavy Midwestern heat and hold my breath desperately hoping the two little eggs will hatch and the baby birds grow up healthy and well-adjusted and fly away...