Birds and Bugs

As forecasted, our Mother Bird flew the coop, undone by the comings and goings of five people and three dogs. Her egg was whole and unattended for several days, so there will be one less swallow in the skies.

Sorry, chickie. If it's any consolation, your nest was beautifully woven. And if I weren't so lazy, I would've taken a picture after Honey pried it in one mossy piece from the porch light.

Meanwhile, we are being consumed by mosquitoes due to our decision not to have the yard sprayed this year. It is HUGELY expensive to do and in a wave of West-Nile-Denial, we passed on the weekly neighborhood treatment. Ecologically and financially, I thought this was the wise choice because I do not garden in the buff AND I use Deep Woods Off.

Given the size and number of welts on this poor body, you'd call me a liar. As it is, this is one picture I won't bother to share.

Wait!

I glanced at the calendar this morning and you know what?

We're running out of June.

I hate that when that happens.

Al Gore? Is That You?

Now, I know that I complained ALL winter long about how cold and miserable it was, but I am in shock over how unpleasant the weather-we-wait-all-winter-for has been. Super hot, super sticky, super rainy. Where's all the fabulous spring-to-summer season that is our due, our inducement, our payoff for suffering through December, January, February and March (and April)?

And the Memorial Day Parade was canceled due to rain. (We were out of town, or I would have complained sooner.) And baby lost his blankie on the run to the car. And my garden is about as underdeveloped as Malawi.

Weather spite, pure and simple.

I think Mother Nature is so pissed at BP, she's taking it out on everyone, including the children.

On the Move

Well, the S&C B&B will officially close on Friday night (I think). Three extra people, a dog and a TV the size of Kansas City have fit in surprisingly well into our home. And garage. And patio. My only regret is that Zachary, who laughs at ALL my jokes, won't remember living here.

At the risk of sounding like a Grandma blog, which this is not, I want to share one of our conversations:

Zachary: "Blee ga dilly donk MEEEEEEEEEE."

Me: "Yes, we are having macaroni and cheese for dinner."

Zachary: "Mer will MA!" (The punctuation mark is intuited.)

Me: "Glad you think so."

Zachary: Arm shoots up over his head, finger pointing heavenward.

Me: "Yes, an airplane. Good ears. Meanwhile, stop feeding Howie. He doesn't like macaroni."

I will miss these dynamic exchanges in the days ahead. And truth be told, I will miss Howie, the pint-sized black Lab who vacuums our floors after each meal. In reality, Howie loves all food and is an ace cleaner-upper. He and Zachary definitely have a symbiotic relationship, a term I've been trying to fit into conversation since Biology class circa 1970.

The kids will be over by der in Aurora, some 10 miles from here, in a home that is in a great neighborhood with tons of little boys running around. It doesn't get more perfect than that.

They won't be too far from Aero Estates, so I suspect these boys will have plenty of practice listening for and pointing out airplanes.

Pure Genius

Have you heard of the Baby Einstein line of baby toys?  We hadn't, until our daughter was expecting. The company name is pure genius, of course, and I am insanely jealous I didn't think of it. But I digress.

This is the contraption Zachary sat in from time to time before he learned how to walk. It is made by Baby Einstein and is officially an activity center.

When you hit one of those squiggly things, it speaks in several languages, including meows and woofs, and it plays Beethoven's Fifth Symphony. Really.

A few months ago, Honey and I were driving Z home from the sitter's. He began to hum (a trait that runs in this family) three notes over and over. We sang back to him, of course, because that's what grandparents do. It wasn't until several car rides later with the same song repeated in the backseat that I realized what he was singing:

The tempo was a little shaky, but the tune was undeniable.

Now where did I put that pop-up algorithim book?

Changes

While I'm still deeply into jet lag and unable to sustain more than two or three sentences at a time (not to mention a tray full of someone else's stemware), I did notice that there has been significant progress on Washington Street:

Bonjour

I missed you! And after a 23-hour nap, I'll get back to 'ya.