Having moved from a Denver townhome to a small-town Indiana house with almost an acre of land, it was imperative that my husband, Joe, and I have a bird feeder so we could become avid bird watchers. And, what’s a new home without a pigeon poo christening? Bird feeders were also automatic cat entertainment so it seemed like a no-brainer. I trotted off to Menards, our local hardware emporium, and browsed through the bird feeders only to find cute, country-painted bird feeders shaped like southern plantations, quaint cabins and rustic lighthouses. However, they also would require almost daily filling. I then passed by the ultimate in bird feeders – the…