Leekle, in my opinion, this is a no-brainer. I do believe in "letting nature take its course" is when nature builds its own nest. But when you build and provide nesting/housing for these songbirds, you have an obligation and responsibility to protect them from predators. If you are going to have a nest box, the onus is on you to properly locate it and install baffles or other appropriate protection from snakes, racoons and other predators. Building a box and then watching a snake destroy the family inside is not an appropriate learning experience for your children. It is akin to setting up a trap. Please let bluebirds nest elsewhere if this is your plan. However, I think your children will get great enjoyment and a wonderful education from learning how to build and set up appropriate nesting sites, watching the eggs appear and the babies hatch, and then watching the parents - both parents! - feed the babies nonstop until they fledge. My nesting boxes have given me great enjoyment for the past several years and recently, I had three-to-four broods within the same season! (Two broods per season is most common.) You will love this if you take some care to do it right. Please read the following links as they are full of great information My GardenWeb posting about putting up a bluebird house: Got the Blues THE definitive Bluebird site with lots of info about where/how to put up a nestbox: Sialas (Bluebirds) Some of my bookmarks about making your own baffle: Baffle Conical Baffle Cone Baffle Carol in Jacksonville Here is a link that might be useful: Sialas (Bluebirds)

My original business plan was to publish a gardening newspaper for this immediate area. I spent years compiling all the data. I worked up samples and walked them around to local garden themed businesses. Plenty of people were impressed (I was shy of my goal, but close to half of those approached supported the idea of a newspaper). After a few months of investing heavily into it the interest from the businesses waned. They weren't making much money selling such a low priced item (and it featured ads from their competitors). Within two years I was shutting it down due to lack of distribution points, not intrest from the public. I had to have places to sell it to the public in order to stay in business and every month or so I would lose another distributor. I might add that I was doing all the work - so even if little money was being made, they weren't extending any effort (I stocked, delivered, collected, billed with a S.A.S.E., heck I even dusted the counter tops). Another disappointment was that the gardening publics interest was insatiable during the spring but non existant during the heat of summer. In addition to the newspaper I had printed up a gardening calendar with week by week advice on what to do in your garden. I had a truckload of them to get rid of and hated to just throw them away. So I got a "drop in" spot at the local flea market and tried selling them. They moved a little but my bigger success came from selling the plants I had brought along to decorate the booth! So my business name stayed the same but I shifted gears into plant sales instead of publishing. In my fantasy world I would rather be the garden guy at the market with edible food crops for backyard farmers. Seedlings, rooted cuttings of herbs, fruit and veggies from around the world. But the market that is the most convenient for me to sell at doesn't have enough of those types of customers. The result is that I sell a lot of ornamentals and not many functional plants. I believe it will change and that it will only take time. The one component that no one told me when I started all this was the amount of time it takes to build up a clientele. You have to be patient, there are few overnight success stories.

PART I "I said, you are about to hurt yourself silly. And don't forget your necklace on the way out." I turned around, startled "Huh?... What??" I sorta said out loud to the chilly, golden light of the early Spring morning. I wasn't aware that a tree could sigh and speak in the same moment of time, but I experienced it in this way. "You're sweet, but go home to your kid and make yourself a nice cuppa joe, cuz It's not gonna happen". Just then, the 20 year old, 7 foot tall , Contorted Filbert Tree did it's best Guido - "ForGEHT about it". As my thoughts scrambled to present a solution, it became clearer to me while I dug a radial trench around the drip line . The careful work of my shovel was revealing a 2" thick root system, and I thought, the answer to today's transplant/relocation endeavor might be; "Damn. You're right. I know your probably right. I need to take a break and think about this. I'll be back in an hour. Don't go anywhere..." "If you say so..." "But believe you me, when I tell you, I'm not going anywhere today." Three yellow finches flitted as they merged within the inner canopy of this otherworldly specimen, this magnificent Hazelnut, who's future was on the chopping block of it's existence. The new home owner's botanical sentiments being, "Curly whatever's just not our thing, ya know? " No. I didn't "know". "We want it gone because we are going to put in a fabulous stone stairway from our front door to the sidewalk, and that helps keep the carpets cleaner." I literally bit my tongue and flinched from the pain. I needed a quick mantra before my tongue recovered enough for ego to make a bigger mess than this pile of dirt I'd been digging up. "Focus on the tree, the tree is your focus. Focus on the tree, the tree is your focus." How do you make it your goal to stay in the good graces of someone you don't agree with or hold respect for? By remembering they are you. If I pick this battle, I am jousting with an aspect of myself, albeit one I may have grown away from. Somewhere in my shadow is the quality of preferring nice carpets over sacred old growth trees. Not today. Invoke love, not ego's spite - thoughts of being better for experiencing reverence for this living symbol of life's bridge between worlds. I did some affirmative nodding while projecting a thoughtful countenance and said, "Yes, yes. Let me see what I can do - the root ball is getting a good soak, so I'll be back in a bit with some help". I left with my necklace still dangling on one of the tree's lower limbs. Earlier that morning, when I first arrived, I offered my respects and sought the tree's permission for the task at hand, offering a bit of brown bread and ale, and hung my stone on it's branch as a calling card. Now, I kinda felt silly for the whole thing, because I could have just asked. Who knew? Wood could talk. PART II When I returned to the site, it was not with help and it was not with cakes and ale and a reverent attitude. I plopped down under the branches atop a large, well established ground root, which had surfaced itself long ago into just the right shape to keep my backside from slipping off down the slight decline of the current landscape. A landscape scheduled, soon, for sheer destruction. A little flock of purple Crocus shuddered together in unison, causing a usually cheerful patch of Forget Me Nots to worry that their namesake would be for naught. "Pull up a chair. Talk to me". Why did I get the feeling I was the one being comforted? I was curious about the calm demeanor emanating from this non-human entity in the face of it's hingey future. I thought about this Filbert Tree being felled for selfish, cosmetic purposes. "..but, you're so beautiful... you're - so beautiful", was all the internal language I could come up with. Could I really get teary over this? "Hey, I brought espresso, biscotti, pears, and a cheese c.., canna, cannelloni." I said, in a morning-breakfast-picnic-voice. "Would you care for any?" In the original draft of this writing, the spell checker went off on me as I typed this last line, listing the goodies. So did the tree, right then. "Holly Saint Julian, no, It's, ... CAHN-uh-LOWWW-nee. Bees-CAA-tee." "What do you know of St. Julian?" I asked, between cookie bites. And without saying so, I understood the tree to take it's coffee with 4 packs of sugar, and that the Finch Clan would have a bit of the ricotta filling from my pastry-pronunciation-disaster. "She was a dancer." Right, no. I was expecting anything but that misinformed answer. But, to remain respectful, here...I responded in the least patronizing tone possible, "Okay, - really? She danced?" "Yup. That is just exactly what I originally meant to say. She- was- a -dancer. And, she IS the patron Saint of all things Hazel." Okay. I thought, now I'm talking to a Catholic tree. Maybe the original owners of the property were Italian Roman Catholics, which could then do my needy, pitiful, Gemini mind a favor, and throw me a bone. That info could wrap me up one clean, tidy, logical explanation of this Goodfella sounding Filbert with it's East Coast pizza-pie accent. So I asked. " I was wondering about the other family, if they....." "Nope. Not even close. And no cigars from Cuba, either. Atheists. They was both of them math teachers, no time for the Who-What-When-Wheres & Whys of 'Thee Uni-verse'." Awesome. At this point, I just wanted to munch on my pear for a minute, and process my head. I flashed to the other night, in my son's room, helping him with his homework. "Mom, do you hear that?" "Hear What?" I said. "That really fast piano music, like a chase scene in a cartoon?" He explained. "You don't hear it?" He was asking, worriedly. I said, "Well....not right this minute, but if you give me a chance I might hear it..." His eyes started to water up as he asked, "Mom, am I crazy for hearing music by myself?" I said, "Not even a little. I think you are ready for piano lessons, that's all." I promised him, "Hey, everyone in the world hears someone saying their name just before they doze off. Just ask around. Its very, very, common." I thought, now would not be the time to share with him about these tree talks. Later, for that. So, I took another bite of pear. "Yup. A- tee-yests." ...cont'd (c) E. Wyndrose

Can't really tell from pics what grade elevations exist. The corrugated might have a vertical bend peeking through the grass. Unfortunately, it will still drain at the point the water rises above the bend. I say "unfortunate" because it will still perform somewhat and a contractor can then excuse a poor install. If it is meant to be a french drain here they do not have a sock on it or wrapped gravel trench. If it is solid pipe to only cart away downspouts or from a collection point in the middle of the back fence, then it's just a sloppy (but typical) install with vertical bends. However, if the pipe at the back fence is lower than somewhere along the side fence or pop-up emitter in front, it may actually be dumping water at the back, which is exacerbating the low point collection in the corner. You would have to evaluate the grade elevations in front compared to the low spot in the corner to see if you can drain it with piping. As far as your closing, I'm not sure if this is a deal breaker. I don't know what the builder can be held to as far as providing a yard with no standing water. If this is the only problem with the house, I'd say carry on with the deal and fix it later yourself. Most builders/contractors are incompetent in site planning and underground drainage, so the current team probably cannot fix it. BTW city inspection will not be looking if this exterior drainage is performing or not, receiving a Certificate of Occupancy means nothing on non- life safety issues.