Our children will one day leave the nest, and this is the pad from which they’ll launch. And just like that cardinal’s nest outside my window, ours was built from twigs and string and spit — I mean, SIPs. Maybe when the year 2217 rolls around, our place will have one of those historic plaques: Tesauro House, circa 2017, home of real estate agent, writer and five children who had the chutzpah to plant roots where some said no flower would grow.