Robin nest box dimensions?

I have a wooden nest box which I made according to instructions obtained from an RSPB book. I have it firmly secured to a pole in our small garden at a height of about 7′. It’s been in place for over a year and although we’ve seen robins in our garden, none have chosen to build a nest in the box. The entrance is almost square, 4.25″ across and just slightly less than 4″ deep. It’s the latter that concerns me. 4″ seems too much ? I know that robins nest in peculiar places and several I have seen, have quite narrow entrances. For example; a small Royal Mail postbox with an opening of probably only about 2″.
Surely 4″ allows easier access from predators and allows in more wind and rain ? I’m thinking of reducing the opening but would appreciate advice from anyone who has knowledge and/or experience of robin nest boxes. Thank you very much !

Have you read the musings of a Recovering Liberal?

Robin of Berkeley is a Recovering Liberal and a psychotherapist in private practice.

http://www.americanthinker.com/2009/05/how_to_deprogram_a_liberal_in.html

-I wasn’t just your garden variety liberal who voted Democrat and that was about it. I was a true believer. A zealot. Like many leftists who had abandoned Judeo-Christian religion, I worshipped at the altar of liberalism

-So maybe you get now how hard it was, how disorienting and destabilizing and crazy making it was, when I realized about 1 1/2 years ago that I no longer believed in liberalism. I walked around in a confused state for weeks. Being a Democrat, a liberal, a far left radical from Berkeley was a big part of my identity. So who the heck was I if I weren’t a leftist?

-The first step, I decided, was deprogramming myself from decades of liberal propaganda. Out went books by Howard Zinn, Noam Chomsky, Michael Parenti, and various 9/11 conspiracy books. In came Mark Levin, Ben Stein, Ron Paul, and Ayn Rand. I heard something vaguely about Talk Radio, so I scanned my AM dial, and found Michael Savage. I was shocked and offended by his diatribes — but also oddly intrigued. I found many others: Limbaugh, Hannity, Levin, Boortz, Medved, all of whom became my “sponsors” in recovery this last year.

-To my disbelief, the more I listened and read, the more these folks made sense.

-As I educated myself, I started thinking and rethinking. I’d wake up in the middle of the night with the sudden realization that deeply held beliefs made no sense. Take the anti war stance of the left. Noble and sanctimonious and all that. But how easy it is to sit back and preach peace when you have an army defending you; to rail against the U.S. when you are protected by free speech laws; to demonize Israel, when you’ve never lived through the murderous pogroms of Tsarist Russia or the Holocaust. How hypocritical to lambast Big Business while you are making money from their stocks in your mutual fund portfolio (that is, until Obama took over). And how ludicrous to admire Chavez, Castro and all things socialist, when the closest experience you’ve had to standing on a bread line is queuing up for goat cheese/arugula pizza at Whole Foods.

-I only hope and pray (yes I’m doing that more too) that the US survives when the Democrats are done “changing” it. But if this lifelong left winger from Berkeley can wake up, hopefully others will also do so before it’s too late.

All her articles are below.. Great insight into the mind of a liberal

http://www.americanthinker.com/robin_of_berkeley/

Does anyone, perhaps, feel like criticizing my story :]?

I wrote the prolusion/preface (whatever you feel like calling it) and I just wanted some critism. I know I already asked this question, and the answers were great, but it was late last night and I decided I would ask it again (plus I made some changes to it). This time I’ll be specific on what I want criticized

1. If tthrees anything you LIKE about my writing, you can put that because honestly, good feedback motivates me

2. If there’s anything you DISLIKE about my writing (or if theres mistakes you think really need to be corrected), please please tell me. As much as I hate being told wrong, I will really appreciatee it in the future. I can handle a little truth :]

You can also leave suggestions and all that sort, if you please; you can probably tell I’m very picky when it comes to my writing

anyway, here is the prolusion to my story, just give me some honest feedback telling me everything you thought about it, and its easy 10 points.

Prolusion
Paris, France 1858

She was beautiful. Indeed, her looks were magnificent; she had long black hair and the most flawless porcelain skin. Men from all over Paris had sent her the best gifts money could buy, but she was never interested. Oh, what a waste it was! She could have had anything she wanted, but still. She just rejected the gifts and sent the men on their way.
She sat alone in the grand ballroom as she watched everyone dance. She had always wished she could dance like they did, so elegant and graceful. But she was not here to watch the dancers, let alone dance; she was here to meet someone.
Earlier that evening she had received a note written in the most exquisite hand-writing. The note itself was magical and charming–she could only imagine who the person that wrote it was like.
When the clock had finally struck eleven, she walked outside to the garden where she would soon meet her admirer. She walked into a maze of red rose bushes, that in the night, matched her lacey dress. She had always loved red roses, how they could look so sorrowful yet beautiful.
“Ah, the roses.” A hoarse voice had said from behind her.
“Quite beautiful, they are. And yes, you are right, sorrowful as well–almost like you.”
She turned around to see a tired-looking woman behind her.
“You wouldn’t happen to be the writer of this letter, would you?” She asked the woman, though she was sure this woman couldn’t have been the mysterious writer.
“Why, were you picturing a handsome man who would sweep you off your feet?” she swooned.
“Sorry, mademoiselle, you’re just going to have to settle for me.” she smiled wickedly and slowly pulled a dagger out of her long coat.
“W-what are you doing?” she started backing away.
“Don’t play innocent,” the woman spit out like the venom of a deadly snake; in fact, the woman was snake-like.
“You and I both know what you have done!”
“I am sorry, but I do not know what you’re talking about.”
She stepped back until she was aligned with the roses. She was cornered and confined inside a maze of rose hedges; she felt helpless.
“That is because you are helpless, darling.” The woman’s wicked grin got bigger as she crept closer to where she was standing.
The girl just gulped and became one with the rose bush. She had known in her heart this was it–there was no way of escaping.
“Since you stole my fiancé with your insidious looks–”
“I did no such thing!” she protested, but the woman ignored her.
“I will make sure you are never happy, you will live in sorrow and death forever.”
This woman was truly evil, she just couldn’t believe her life was about to end.
“Ah, and the best part? You will have to live your miserable life over and over again. You see, I am going to kill you and you will reincarnate into a hideous monster every time you die.” The woman laughed a jarring malicious laugh and pointed the dagger towards the girls chest.
She respired her last sweet breath and closed her eyes as the sharp dagger pierced her heart and she met her demise…

Yea, thats my preface/prolusion. I indented my paragraphs on Word but they got messed up when I pasted it here but I hope its still legible.
So, just tell me what you think–you can be harsh if you’d like, I’m pretty sure I can handle it ;]
Thanks.
Sorry if there are misspellings, I noticed in the begginning I spelt “there’s” like “tthrees” and I have no clue how that happened… I think the spell-check thing was lagging
And, yes I am going for a kind of sci-fy feel, but its more fantasy. I might as well just explain my plot so it can be better understood.

When the woman said she’d reincarnate into a monster, she didn’t mean it literally as in an ugly beast.
My character, Callista, lives in a life full of death. When she was reincarnated from the girl in the beginning of the story, she gained this horrible ability (I guess you can call it ability). Since the old woman envied her, she put a curse that would reincarnate her every time she dies and every time, she has a touch of death. So now, she can’t get close to people and she can’t fall in love.
Her mother died at birth, and her father died two weeks later. When she touches someone, even the slightest bit, it slowly and painfully kills them and she has to watch it.
Later on in the story she meets a guy who happens to be some sort of angel (I’m still not completely planned out as you can tell), and he planned to kill her and make sure she never re
^ it cut me off >.>

So, anyway, he was going to kill her because she caused to much death, blah blah blah. And then they both fall in love and they find a way to reverse the curse (if you will :P)
But instead of the happy ending everyone’s looking forward to, there’s a huge price to pay and that will be countinued in the sequel.

That was pretty much a really lame sped-up version, but whatever. I just wanted you guys to get a better understanding on it.
Thanks for the critism so far, by the way.

And you’re right, she did seem very ditsy in the garden and that made it seem unrealistic. Now that I realize that, I will try making it more real.
Thank you :]

Would you read this? I want your opinion.?

Is there any problem with grammar or wording? This is just one scene of a story I’m writing.

The dueling field was quite large. It covered fifteen acres and was surrounded by a stone wall about ten feet high. Lion-headed fountains were placed at fifty foot intervals. A garden followed the perimeter of the wall and was filled with every type of flower imaginable; Canna, cherry blossom, Colorado columbine, hydrangea, lily of the valley, calla lily, black eyed susan, bleeding heart, blue bell, lantana, rose, oriental poppy, begonia, ixora, dendrobium, red hot poker, sweet william, cockscomb, forget-me-not, and many more. It was a beautiful place, yet it was used to settle disputes between nobility. And this dispute was one worth watching, judging by the crowds. The field was packed with cameras, news crews, royalty, and commoners that had been lucky enough to get a ticket. Even James Washington, Emperor of America, had turned up for the event.
It had started a few months ago when the Duke of Florida, Jose Vargas Florida, and Musca von Georgia, Prince of Georgia, had decided to marry the same woman, Antoinette de Alberta, Princess of Canada. It was easy to see why. The princess was probably the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. She had a slim, delicious looking body with a face that was all brown curls and soft green eyes. Many a man would fight for her honor. Hell, I would too if I wasn’t already married.
The Emperor rose from his chair and motioned for the crowd to be quiet. He seemed nervous, but that was understandable. Being fifteen and being the ruler of a country would be tough on anybody, especially if two of the most powerful men in the country were about to try and kill each other. If one of them died, a spot in the government would have to be filled. If they survived, the dispute would continue and nothing would get done in Parliament.
“Lords and Ladies and commoners alike! As of late there has been a dispute between the Duke of Florida and the Prince of Georgia over who will marry the Princess of Canada.” Here the Emperor paused and took a breath. “The two gentlemen have come to the conclusion that a duel would be the only way to solve the dispute. Now as you know . . .”
“Yack yack yack,” I shouted at the TV. I was tired of this formal crap. I wanted to see two guys get shot!
I felt a smack on the back of my head and turned around to find my wife glaring at me.
“Show some respect for the Emperor and the duel! You had to go through the same formalities when you were a judge, as well as when you fought for my hand.”
“And what a mistake that was.”
“What?” my wife replied.
“Nothing dearie. I love you.”
“Don’t pull that dearie stuff with me! And further more . . .”
“Shut it woman! The duel’s starting!”
The two men walked into the middle of the field, each pulling their dueling pistol from a box. Each pistol was exquisitely made. Handles of oak and ash, golden and silver designs encrusted with gems. My dueling pistol was just a bland hunk of pine and brass that didn’t work anymore. I turned the volume up and tried to ignore my wife while she said something about the kitchen sink and cabinets.
The two men squared off, turned, and began walking in opposite directions. I counted the paces with excitement. Just ten more before . . .
Suddenly the Emperor jumped up from his throne and ran to the edge of the dais, screaming something.
“Stop the duel! The Princess Antoinette has arrived with a message for the two men!”
Crappers in milk. I didn’t want to wait any longer.
And so that curvy, well endowed woman walked up to the front of the dais, accompanied by two servants. I sat there with my fingers crossed, hoping that the duel would go on.
“I have not come here to watch this duel, but to prevent it. This duel, whatever the outcome, would be detrimental to both our countries. So I will announce my chosen suitor.”
This was unexpected.
“Our countries have always been enemies, and I have decided to put an end to that.”
She isn’t going to do what I think she is, right?
“I have decided that I will marry James Washington, your Emperor, and unite our countries under one monarchy.”
Silence. Total shock. I sat with my mouth open. The duel I’d been looking forward to for months was done without a single shot fired.
Then I noticed the Duke of Florida and Prince of Georgia. They were talking to each other. Then they nodded, aimed their pistols towards the Emperor, and fired.