And the choir of joyous noise can be heard . . .
Peace unto my household until Tuesday. I can think and do, or not do and be unto myself until TUESDAY. I hear choirs of angels singing one long "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"!
I would love to get on your logic train, but it is lacking DOORS....
In moving south, we are living with hundreds and hundreds of little inch long red crunchy centipedes. Yes, centipedes. And we know they are crunchy because we step on them as they wander our house in the dark of night and we get to become intimately acquainted with them, via feet. In the dark. On cold floors. Did I mention they crunch? And they have their own distinctive odor. The sound and feel is a sensory interaction I wish I had never experienced and will simply never forget for all of time. There is nothing else like it, and I don't mean in a good way like I never want to get past it, love to experience it over and over kind of way. More of a night sweats and showers required post remembering, kind of way. In all fairness to the centipedes, they were here first. And they don't perpetually cohabitate. The reality is, they come in late spring thru early summer, in droves. They live in the grass and apparently don't like it when it rains because they find their ...
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