The early morning sun filtered through the pine woods and into the quiet subdivision at Cedar Hollow.

Lloyd and I took our breakfast coffee out to the lawn swing to see what was going on.  Presently, Lady Wren inspected the Swiss Chalet.

In no time at all, she flitted over to Cedar Shake on Black Pole Lane.  H-m-m-m.  We could almost hear her going, Eenie Meenie Miney Moe . . . as she tried to make up her mind which home to choose.  What all was going through her little noggin?

So the selection has boiled down to two houses, has it? 

The tiny brown bird paid no attention at all to the stylish Château de la Gourde gleaming in the sun.  After all, she thought of herself as a plain little bird, even though she was betrothed to one of the finest tenors in  the whole wide world.  To tell you the truth, Lady Wren did not want to be classed with those uppity-up folks who act as though they are a notch above others just because they live in a fancy house.  No way!

My husband had an eye appointment mid-morning, so I can’t vouch for what went on at Cedar Hollow a bit later.

On the way home, we purchased a black shepherd’s crook at the local hardware store, and pushed its pronged feet into the middle of the sidewalk garden.  A phone call or two turned up the possibility of assistance from one of the wood carvers who gather at a seniors’ club.  Our request next week will be: 

Route the words “Cedar Hollow”
into the surface of a flat piece of driftwood
hauled home from Bonaire 30 years ago. 

It’s about time this place had proper signage like every other respectable subdivision, don’t you agree?