I've had four emails this morning asking about the location of different neighbors recycling bins. It seems they've all run off and had a recycling bin party somewhere. Wonder if they complain about people that don't rinse out the containers before tossing them in and then there's tomato juice and syrup dripping about.
Just recently I made an observation.
As soon as both daughters get home at their respective times, they both say hello and walk straight to the piano and pound out a few numbers on the keys. Then when they've had about five minutes or so tickling the ivories, they come back to the kitchen and ask for a snack and want to visit. Music decompression?
I saw this video today. It's probably what I look like at a Sunday afternoon g.m. after a very large dinner at someones home but I hope not.
I'm done with winter. Do you know why? We have a mouser-turned-into-a-housecat-this-winter that is driving me nuts. He insists on meowing at our bedroom door at exactly 5:30 each morning. I turn over. I cover my head with a pillow. The meowing gets louder. I get up and look almost exactly like Aunty Acid. And I don't even feed him breakfast. I can't wait for summer when he hunts the night away and comes home to sleep in the garage.