AHA! I’ve figured out the Friday Fragments thing. Many thanks to Mel, who directed me to Half-Past Kissing Time, so I can give credit. God knows I have enough flotsam and jetsam swirling around my brain today to play. Let’s play!
- My favorite search terms of the week: crocs you boots gimlet (a new drink, perhaps?), rhubarb problem (yes, rhubarb is indeed a problem. Ours is huge and tomorrow will be made into something involving strawberries and crust. There may or may not be ice cream involved as well.), tomato plants won’t stay up (I recommend tomato erotica. Or stakes. You decide, but I bet the plants would prefer the first suggestion.).
- I have determined that my constantly-twitching eyelids are due to a combination of stress and allergies, for they twitcheth not while on vacation. I sweat glowed through my clothing every day while in Florida, but no twitchy-twitchy.
- Construction on the school is moving at a quick pace. Ahhh….how I missed the beepbeepbeep of trucks on a peaceful morn.
- My friend’s son, the one who was diagnosed with Leukemia last month, is doing very well. He’s close to remission already. Hopefully I’ll get to see him (and hug him over and over) tonight when I take them dinner.
- I hate birds (bite me, PETA). Three years ago we had the Psycho Mama Robin From Hell take over our front yard. She would dive-bomb our heads if we dared to step out the front door, chase us into the backyard, scream at us…as soon as she and her little birdlings left, her perfect nest hit the trash. This year we had robins trying to build a nest in the roller shade on our back deck. Birdbrains. We took it down until they got the hint…though it really was funny to watch Papa Bird fly up to where his nest was with a bit of straw and look terribly confused. And then a bit worried, as he would have to now go tell Psycho Mama Bird that their condo with the perfect mountain views was suddenly missing. And then she’d go all pregnant psycho bitch on him (been there, done that) and he’d fly off all “yes dear, whatever you say dear, I’ll find the pickles dear.” And damned if he didn’t find another place, well out of our reach. All spring we’ve been hosing bird poop off our back patio; I figured it was just payback for the birdie condo. Nope. Damned Papa Bird built his nest in the framing of our satellite dish…two stories up. And if there are baby birdlings in that next, I can’t take a sharp stick to it. Grrrr…
- Vacations are pure bliss. Returning from vacations are pure hell. Been home four days and still can’t catch up.
- I found out last night that I inadvertently volunteered myself to work the Cub Scout daycamp next week. There were profane words involved when I discovered this. Must stock the wine rack in preparation.
- Know what’s fun? Watching your dog like a hawk to make sure she’s “outputting,” after discovering she chewed through a used pullup. Good times, good times.
That’s the brain dump for this morning. Now I have the extreme pleasure of pulling two little boys away from the Wii to hit the grocery and liquor stores. Really, Colorado, throw me a bone here. I’m thrilled that we can finally buy booze on Sunday, but making two stops with kids is murder. Just let stores sell Mama Juice so I don’t have to feel like a bad mommy dragging my kids into a liquor store. Again.
Welcome Back! 🙂
Birds… We have nests all over our yard. We’ve had baby cardinals, baby robins, baby blackbirds, baby sparrows, baby mourning doves, baby finches… The blackbirds are the ones that I’m not fond of, the others I am okay with. The kids enjoyed the cardinal experience. They do make a mess though.
I agree returning from vacation is a lot harder than getting ready or being on vacation. Hope you had a good time in Florida!
I have to object to the name “Psycho Mama Robin”. I’m a little cracked, perhaps, but definitely not full-blown psycho.
Oh, gross. The mental image of dog eating used pull-up is indescribable. Thank you for sharing.
OMG-You’re funny. Laughed my husband right out of bed with that anti-robin rant. My sister gets the eye-twitch thing; doc says it’s stress. I think your theory is right on.
You know what’s even more fun than watching your dog poop? Putting rubber gloves on to dig through your 18-month old son’s poop, looking for a nickel! Ah, those were the days…. not.
Thanks for joining FF this week; loved the “brain dump” reference, too!
Well, here in enlightened Texas, we can only buy wine at the grocery store. Anything harder than cooking sherry you have to buy at the liquor store down the way. And isn’t it amazing how many liquor stores are next to grocery stores? I’m sure that a lobby group will make sure that a combo never happens around here.
We have psycho birds, too. Hate.Them.
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