This is the tiny office window at the bottom of the flight of stairs that leads from our second story deck to our lower deck. Two of the other office walls consist of floor-to-ceiling windows so, if you were worried, you'll be relieved to know that plenty of light makes it into the dungeon of horror.

In the top half of the upper window pane, you can see two of the four canaries whose voices can be heard on the outgoing message of our business line's answering machine. Their cage is huge, yet another floor-to-ceiling extravaganza. They sing a lot, so I guess they're happy in there.

Sometimes they sing too much. My boyfriend has an older model speakerphone that does not possess full duplex capability. Which means only one person can talk at a time; otherwise, the sound cuts out. So, when a client is talking and the birds decide it's yet another glorious day to be alive, my boyfriend has to throw wadded up paper balls at their cage to (often unsuccessfully) get them to cease and desist with their cacophonous rapture.

It's a humorous site to behold -- a big, burly, bearded businessman being flustered by a few ounces of feathers.