I can't remember the last time I sat down to post anything to my blog, so much has been going on. For instance, we moved. We now have a guest room and an office. We also have this:
The pool truly would be heaven if I ever actually got to use it, however, I never get to use the pool because there seems always to be some sort of contractor lurking about the premise. Just yesterday the fence guys finished installing the fence but I still can't use the pool because Creepy Pool Guy is coming at some point today to clean the pool and add chemicals. You might have figured this out, but I'm not a big fan of Creepy Pool Guy. When he comes to our house to clean the pool he looks in the back windows to see if I'm home. He only does this when he needs to talk to me, which happens to be every week. In my opinion, he should be walking his butt around the house to the front door and knocking like the rest of the civilized population. He's doesn't know it yet, but he's about to be fired and not for his Peeping Tom tendencies. He's about to be fired because he's a belligerent SOB with an attitude problem. Besides, I found another company whose pool guy isn't quite so creepy.
In the picture above you can see that our new home has a great many windows. The side of the house with three levels of windows is actually our living room (tall ceilings). Once per week I hear a loud, startling thud which means that another bird has flown into an upper window. Up until two days ago, there had been no fatalities nor even any casualties, however, that changed for one poor birdie on Tuesday. At that time I sent Husband a text message that went something like this:
"I am so glad that I am not the man of the house."
The poor bird flew into the window, then hopped around our pool deck in a state of shock. Not knowing what to do and unwilling to touch a filthy bird, I watched helplessly from my bedroom window (it seemed asinine to call animal control over something like this. I need to reserve those calls for the snake that lives under our front deck). After a while, the bird curled up under a window as if it were taking a nap. "Oh good," I thought, "It's going to live!" Right then the bird shuddered and died. Something started leaking out of it's mouth. I shut the blinds and sent Husband the text alerting him to his after work clean-up duty. "That's men's work!" I declared in my text. Husband did not disagree.
Ten days after our move we went to see my family in VA. Little Husband did very well on the three-hour plane ride. He kept his fussing to a minimum and enjoyed playing peek-a-boo with our fellow passengers. I tried the old "nursing upon takeoff and landing" trick to keep his ears from popping, but every time I pulled the nursing cover over his head, Little Husband would flail and punch mightily at it with his fists until the cover was rendered useless. What was most humorous was watching Husband flailing about, trying to keep me and The Whirling Dervish covered up. I guess men are protective like that.
Little Husband loved his time with my parents and his aunts and uncles. He truly loves them and it was such a pleasure to witness. He treated my mother as an extension of me, and he loved, loved, LOVED being teased by his "Grandaddy". So cute. He also got to spend a great deal of time with one of his aunts and there was much loving and teasing there as well. That baby sure does love to be teased!
In other news, Little Husband's paternal grandmother just bough him this:
I know it's ugly, but in a cool sort of way AND it's going to have a stylin' red cushion. I love me some red!
That's it for my news. Not much to report except every time I visit my old 'hood I see Santa sitting aimlessly at one of the bus stops that line my old street. He never fails to holler "Hey Mama!" at me and wish me well. I miss my quirky old neighbors. The people in our new neighborhood are friendly, but I don't have my normal gaggle of eccentric personalities to monitor. That needs to change, and I am going to make it my current mission to figure out how!