I followed him to the sun room where he pointed to one of the pear trees in the back yard.
Before I go further, you need to visit or revisit, whichever the case may be, this story about Alan and the B.i.R.d.S.
It took me a minute to find it. It could have been mistaken for a lovely blue bird. It wasn't. GUFF. AWE. GUFF. AWE.
Can you get my shoe out of that tree? "My shoe" is one of his beloved REI water shoes. It's hiked The Narrows of Zion National Park and strolled along many a white sandy beach. It's more than a shoe. It's a friend. A friend with holes in it. A friend that should have been gently deposited in the dumpster a couple of summers ago. Or set afloat in on a flaming pyre in the Colorado river.
"Can you see if you can get my shoe down?" GUFF. AWE. (Because that's the kind of supportive wife I am.)
"Nope. No can do. That shoe is going to stay right there to serve as a lesson to you." A lesson in the humane treatment of winged creatures. "What is so funny?!" he asked. "It's just soooooo YOU!" I replied. So very Alan.
That's all I have to say about that. That's a flat out lie. I have so much more to say, but out of love and respect for the Bird Man... GUF. FAW.