geeks in love

oooh....my hubby dedicated his donation to NationalPublicRadio to me yesterday.

Now that is love.

Don't Ask the Dogs

Over the past three or four days, we've been taking on some extra godson-related responsibilities, as his grandmother (who, in an average week, helps out way more than we do) copes with some health issues.

So, this morning I left even before my firefightin' husband...no one who knew me in high school would believe that such a thing was possible...and got home a good twelve hours later. Needless to say, the dogs were...relieved...to see me.

As I approached the door, I realized just what a stressful day it must have been for them. You see, there is this package that the very patient delivery person keeps trying to deliver to us when we're not home. And since we weren't home today, they again attempted to have us sign for it. They left a note on the door. I can only imagine how vigorously Puck defended the porch (and all that goes with it). He takes this kind of thing very seriously, and this has been going on now for three straight business days...how aggrivating for all involved...

But as if that weren't bad enough, there were signs of other would-be trespassers. The porch and the doorstep were strewn with clumps of dried grass. As I unlocked the door, I couldn't help but notice that small bits of it were scattered all around the welcome mat, and (what's this?) tucked behind the horns of the metal bull's head that holds the bell next to our door (not quite dinner bell, not quite door bell...it's a conundrum and it came with the house...). What could it be?

Turf wars?

I pondered that question as I set Puck loose to survey recent happenings in the back yard. Then it hit me.

Birds. Our house is going to the birds. Someone is trying to build a nest...right here, by our door.

So, don't ask the dogs, but, do you think we've been spending too much time away from home?

yelling at my husband

It's hard to yell at one's husband when the reason he's late coming home is his professional obligation to stick around and answer questions after having pronounced someone dead.

It's also more than a little creepy to a) watch the news because there's a chance the reason your husband's late will make the news, and b) be right.

So, when he comes home, I will make him waffles.