If it's a bird bath, there must be birds nearby

One of the hardest things we've had to do this summer was sell the family 'homestead' in Marshall. J's great-great grandfather (maybe another great in there, I'm not sure) came from Ireland, settled in Marshall and built a house. It's been in the family since before the Civil War, every generation adding to the house, but now it belongs to some other family.

We don't have plans to return to Marshall in our retirement, and our kids are established elsewhere, too. It was hard to let it go, but we sold it to a couple who intend to restore it and perhaps make it better than it ever was.

J. always admired the bird bath, built by one of the greats. On his last trip cleaning out the basement, he lugged the bird bath up the hill to the driveway and hoisted it into the truck. It was quite a job, but he's glad he did it.

It's concrete and stone, and breaks down into 3 pieces. It's missing a few stones, and generally starting to deteriorate. For years, J's family moved the bird bath into the garage for the winter, but the last 15 years or more, no one has bothered. J. has no idea how it was built, but he'd like to repair it if he could. I'll have to do a search on the internet and see if I can find some information about this kind of masonry.

We're enjoying it for now - it still surprises me when I see it in the yard. My mind still thinks of it in my mother-in-law's flower garden, surrounded by snap dragons, lupines and zinnias. In spite of its homely appearance, it holds sweet memories for us both.