Mundane (you know)

Yep. We have three pretty robin-egg blues in one tree. I actually stole this picture on the web. But it looks exactly the same and I didn't want to haul out the ladder and the camera and put forth effort for you all to see the nest with eggs. So you'll have to believe me. Saw them as the landscape guy came to check over the stuff they put in last fall. Great service I'd say. In fact he saw some grass coming through the mulch and said he'd be back to spray that. I thought I was going to do that tomorrow, but if he really wants to, well I can't take away that joy can I? Or maybe he thinks I'm such a fun person to be around... or better yet he has a crush on me and is looking for any excuse to come back. Or not.

Just back from a little walk. A very odd thing happened in the woods. A squirrel fell off a branch way up high right in front of Lisi with a resounding 'thud'. She gave chase. Squirrel ran up the tree chittering away. Lisi missed a huge opportunity. Squirrel - 1, Lisi - 0. She's too embarrassed to tell you about it.

Had company over yesterday. I love the before company. The cooking. The getting the house all 'tinging'. I love the during company. Friends. Good conversation. And good food (hopefully anyway). I love the after company. The memories. The leftovers. The mostly clean house (except for a wee bit of vacuuming).

Tried to do my hair a different way. And oweee... it hurt. Literally. Why is that? My hair naturally flops to one side so I was trying to show it who was boss and it revolted. So maybe I better leave well enough alone.

I've got a few pet peeves. One is watching someone videotaping that I don't know and then they swoop the camera side-to-side and I realize I'm on their tape. I'm not sure why it bugs me that I'm preserved on some tape on a shelf in who-knows-where, but it does. I don't like leaving hair in a motel garbage can either. I'm not sure why it bugs me, but it does. I don't like song lists on blogs. Especially when I'm looking at them right after I tuck the kids in and they yell, 'what are you doing mom???'. And I still don't like wind chimes (sorry to you out there that do...).

I can't wait to get out the camper. And feel hot. And have sand in my flip flops. And see dirty s'more-rimmed lips over the glow of a campfire.

Enough dreaming. Back to the mundane laundry pile...