I currently sit in (almost) blessed silence. "Almost" because, while my for-the-moment-darling three year old is contentedly snuggled under her fluffy, pink blankie...her just-shy-of-two year old brother is heartily bewailing the unjustness of this world and bed time in general. The elder two of mine brood are off on Awana adventures for the night. The man is acting the part of moment freezer & has carted the camera along for le trip.
This time should really be used more productively. I could be mixing lotions, whipping up some shaving cream or other such organic goodness. Instead, I'm left pondering why a little, brown bird the size of a small matchbox car would chose my less-than-spotless window to thwack into (and scar the pants off a poor, innocent woman, typing on her computer)....at least I assume it was a bird. Honestly, my vision's less than stellar and the brown lump laying in my front flower garden could well have been a dazed leaf. ~Eyes relayed message to brain. Brain passed it along to the Internal Curiosity Department, which in turn replied, "further inspection above our pay grade." And thus ended the matter of the Smallish Brown Lump Discovered In Front Flower Bed.
A clock, conveniently situated in the lower, right hand corner of this here screen informs me that the time is two minutes til eight. While this may mean nothing to you, to those with small people in Awana it means there are 30 minutes before the troops return to home base and a listening ear must be handily available to collect all the night's minuetest details. In other words, SOMETHING productive must be accomplished within the next slot of time that would otherwise be un...accomplishable otherwise:) And thus adieu, adieu and RIP little brown bird (or leaf.)
Tired Mamas Make Strange Blog posts~ Genna
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