City Girl

I am a Texan. Yup, born in Dallas...raised in Southlake. I grew up with one big brother, and I had no qualms about hanging out with him and all his friends. We lived near the lake, and we rode our bikes thru the trails as often as our little chicken legs would take us. I guess you would say I was a "tom boy." Fine. I'll accept that. I've never considered myself to be a "girlie girl." I'm not into all the normal shiny things that seem to attract the attention of my gender; jewelry, shoes, and interior design have never been important to me. Well, that's not entirely true. I love diamonds, running shoes, and a comfy bed. Not exactly what you'd consider girlie though.

I'm completely comfortable with the label of tom boy. But I was surprised to realize this weekend that I have become a "city girl." (And if you already had me pegged as a city girl, please keep that to yourself.) A little weekend getaway to Boerne, TX provided me this new insight.

If you're not familiar with the San Antonio area, Boerne is a quaint town in the Hill Country that offers a beautiful setting. Rolling hills, wildflowers, tractor shops, feed stores all line the streets. It's a nice retreat from my usual landscape of Starbucks, road construction signs, traffic, and stop lights that I'm convinced turn red every time my little Honda approaches.

Boerne is also a home to various wildlife. On my visit, I saw a hummingbird (albeit confusing the red portion of a Texas flag for a birdfeeder), a couple of huge geckos (way bigger than what I see in Dallas), and plenty of Ford F150s with those gigantic side mirrors that make you cringe when you pass them. (I realize that's not really wildlife, but they are frequently spotted roaming on the streets.)

So how does all this make me a "city girl?" Well, the person I was visiting was trying to prevent some house martins - birds who make their nests in eaves using mud - from taking over her front porch. Apparently, these birds are protected under the Federal Migratory Bird Treaty Act. You can destroy a nest being built by these fast-flying creatures, but once that nest has been completed, you may not touch it. So the need to halt the nest construction was imperative. Where does one go to solve house problems in my neck of the woods? The Home Depot, of course.

I discovered my city label when upon sheepishly asking the local Home Depot man, "Hey - uh - do y'all have any, like, fake owls that we could, um, use to scare away some birds?" there was no strange look. I expected a stifled snicker, a confused countenance, at the least a "Say what?" Instead, I got nothing - nothing but a brisk walk to the Fake Owl Section of this store of so many strange wares. It was at that moment that I realized that I am a City Girl. Apparently, the people down here don't think twice about fake owls. It's a part of their lives. And it's normal.

In case you're wondering, Hootie (fake owl's new name) is doing his job well. The mud martins flew in last night to start their daily nest-building only to be surprised by Hootie's presence. If only birds could talk; I imagine a little, "What the chirp?" coming from their pointy beaks.

Thanks for reading! Please visit http://pages.teamintraining.org/ntx/wdw10/bboardman to help this City Girl have a fairy tale finish!!