I've been planting and watering and weeding most maniacally and trying to get a bunch of other things done before summer. And the longer I go without blogging the longer I go without blogging. Thank you for stopping by, dear friends and pleasant acquaintances of the blogosphere. Would you care to sip a mug of warm milk with me? No? I drink it now every night before bed to discourage insomnia. Because I refused to fill my doctor's prescription for Ambien. Seeing as I already back the minivan into the fence as it is, think how badly I'd ruin both fence and van if I was sleeping. Ah. Warm milk isn't that bad. Really.
To answer Scrivener's question of two weeks ago (Where does the time go?), yes, we did go to the National Museum of the American Indian. It's a spectacular curving building surrounded by prairie grasses, very refreshing after all the manicured rectangles of lawn and monolithic Federal bureaucrotecture all around it. (Made up a new word!) They have food from native tribes in the cafeteria. The "Eye of the Storm" display and the surrounding exhibits about exploitation of Native American Tribes was heartbreaking and profound.
We had our gutters cleaned yesterday, and the gutter guy cleaned up 70 or 80 lbs of debris thanks to the tall trees that ring our house. Here's what I learned this gutter guy in course of a short conversation:
1. His wife died of ovarian cancer three years ago. But he's not looking to marry again.
2.He has seven children in their twenties and thirties, who aren't allowed to ever move back in with him.
3.He's very religious (the REPENTT license plate is a clue), but he's not picky. He plays the field, attending Catholic Mass, Seventh Day Adventist churches, and black Baptist churches.
4. To him, the worst job is being a roofer.
5. He keeps a 90-pound pet lynx in his house, who eats 50 lbs. of raw meat a week.
OK, so maybe that's why the kids don't move back.