I have a few free pro-tips I’ve learned firsthand today that I feel obliged to share with you.

The first is to steer around dead birds while mowing the yard. Never succumb to that split-second temptation to let your mulching mower return them to the earth. Not only does the explosion of feathers and bone make for a real mess, but the cleanup is a challenge, especially when the carcass is relatively fresh. Everything sticks to the rake.

The next is an encouragement not to attempt to pull-start a power washer with a bicycle directly behind you—that is, unless you’re the kind of weirdo who enjoys watching a Schwinn go flying across the driveway accompanied by the sound of a grown man’s screams.

Another of my suggestions is to be sure you never set a 20-inch box fan on the counter beside you at the bathroom sink in order to cool off after a shower. You might not think to turn it off before deciding to brush your teeth. As result, the after-brushing slobber meant for the drain below may instead be carried by the fan’s breeze in a spray against the wall.

The last of the pro-tips is another reminder to turn off that same fan before you spray the cleaner meant for removing the toothpaste and spit running down the wall. Skipping this important step will see to the need for another shower to remove the toxic chemicals from your face and torso.

A final pro-tip…

After the bird carcass explosion cleanup, consider forfeiting the rest of the day’s projects. Detonating a bird’s mortal remains was a bad way to begin, and it foretells other impending tragedies. Instead, hose off the rake and put it away. Go inside, wash your hands, and then pour yourself a glass of Bib & Tucker Small Batch Bourbon. Make your way to the deck, take off your shirt, close your eyes, and get a little sun.

The nose of the Bib & Tucker will reward this decision with a breeze of barley and cherried toffee. The palate will follow with a sweeter bit of cinnamon-dusted rye followed by a wash of blackberries and creme.

The short finish is a near-weightless assembly of all that the nose and palate provided, and in my opinion, form a dram easily enjoyed with an ice cube, a clear sky, and the bright-beaming summer sun.

Having tried this, two more pro-tips come to mind that I think I should share.

First, be sure to keep your whiskey covered at all times on the deck. Secondly, be sure to look before wiping at the sploosh that hit your chest while you sat eyes closed and sunning. It might not have been a drop of sweat, but rather a suspicious bit of payback from a swooping robin who’s angry there’ll be no funeral for his recently exploded brother.