When we bought the homestead almost a year ago, we inherited quite a few things: those three chickens I won't shut up about, a drawer full of random plastic containers, the ugliest office curtains ever made, a garden run wild with persistent morning glories, and a giant pile of ancient bricks. I'm calling them "ancient" because every time The Husband and I talk about what to do with them, we keep adding a few decades onto their age and now it's to the point where we don't remember how old the previous owners said the bricks really are.
So I decided to love the chickens and throw out the plastic junk and the hideous curtains. The Husband poisoned the morning glory and stacked the bricks up neat and tidy in the back part of the garden where they forlornly waited to be put to use.
I first "pinned" the idea of making a birdbath out of bricks over a year ago to my "Super Cool Ideas" board (I really must come up with a different "super cool" name for this board) where it was quickly forgotten amid 100+ other "super cool ideas". Then around three months ago, I came across it and repinned it to my "Great Outdoors" board. I wish I could say that was when I had my "Aha! Moment" and started building this "super cool" birdbath in our "great outdoors". It was not. No, I squirrelled (FUN FACT: Squirrelled has the longest spelling of any standard English word with one syllable if you don't spell it the American way and if you don't use an accent) away this idea until it popped back into my consciousness a couple of weeks ago.
Enter: The Husband
Because I can sometimes be more of a dreamer than an actual transport-bricks-across-a-long-expanse-of-yard kind of gal, I delegated the building of the birdbath and used promises of chicken-fried steak to lure compliance. And The Husband did not disappoint. (Neither did the steak)
Here is a close-up:
Now I just need to revisit my Pinterest boards and figure out what to do with the rest of the bricks...