Our robins are big enough now to stick their beaks out of the nest and cry for worms. We only have two in our crop but they're lusty little buggers and growing fast. There are two adults feeding them and they swoop over to the bird feeder to load up their own bellies on seed and grape jelly, then back to the worm hunt. There are a couple of thug grackles lurking out there and once in a while I have to run out and chase them off. I suppose this is assuming too much control over things which are beyond my control. Nature is hard.
My bike had to go into the shop to get its wheel fixed. Of course, now that it's gone, I really want to ride it. Isn't that the way?
My gnat bites look like measles. Those little bastards are relentless. You don't feel them bite but later you have this ugly outbreak.
Regis is watching some natural disaster epidemic catastrophe movie. I don't get the attraction myself, preferring to ignore bad news and imminent threats. I don't watch the news, remember? What good does it do to know about things bearing down on you when you can't do anything about them? Or to commiserate about evil things that happen in places you never plan to go? I know, I stick my head in the sand. I prefer to live in fiction.
We went to a little gathering of special ed folks at one of the local watering holes today after work. Of course, the conversation got around to sleeping problems, which it always does when middle-aged people gather. We all agreed it would be less of a problem if a guy didn't have to work.
Well, on that happy note, I'm going to put clean sheets on the bed. I can't watch anymore of this disaster crap.