Remember the time when I lived in a flat which was the whole top floor of a tudor style house in Nottingham and the bushes at the front of the house housed a lady blackbird and eventually her family. Whilst she was sitting on the nest, my girlfriend and I lowered bread, soaked in milk, on a piece of string for her to eat, which she readily accepted. She was so proud as she shouted us when her young were ready to fly...... we watched them leave the nest at her very loud request.