It's not that I forget you guys or that I don't enjoy blogging.
It's just that it is the end of the school year so there's the usual field trips, projects, permission slips, reading logs, safety patrol training for next year, dentist appointments, how-do-these-people-make-so-much-mess, where-did-this-laundry-come-from-because-I-JUST-did-it, when-will-it-stop-raining, and when will it be summertime already happening.
And did I mention karate, karate, karate? Just checking.
So anyway, I get a text from my mother which ends with, "blog withdrawal" to which I fire back a text proclaiming indignantly that I've been out of town twice a day every day this week!
Bah. The bad part about blogging is that you have to sit down to do it and that means I can't also be washing dishes or attempting to clean the counter (a never ending and losing battle if ever there was one) or doing any of the other myriad of aforementioned tasks/issues/messes.
So I procrastinate and then really get frustrated by how behind I am once I sit down to organize everything. I want to cry when I see how many pictures have been uploaded and need cropped, explained, etc.
But hey, it's free therapy and my fans are waiting, so away we go!
These were taken this morning lest I forget next week when it actually is mid month. Plus, if the Weather Channel knows anything, it'll be monsooning all of next week anyway...
These guys are growing like weeds in high summer. Damon's whole hand takes up my whole hand these days. He used to be so little.
The phlox is past its prime, but it is still gorgeous and it makes me smile every time I look out front.
Our sweet neighbors on the other side of this hedge have a pond. Now we all have a moat.
And since life is always interesting, while Dada was cleaning out the gutters last weekend he discovered that not everything is washing from the roof into the drainpipes and then on into the creek to drain the way things are supposed to. Instead, water is ending up here:
Yes, that would be in the middle of the backyard. Think the swampy part of Camp Lambec's field, down by the chapel.
That's the creek where it is all supposed to go. That's the snail and crayfish and frog and turtle creek. The Carrie creek. I suppose we really should find out what it's official name is one of these days.
The apple trees are mostly blossomless now, but the petals that are strewn everywhere sure smell good!
Some smart birdie built a nest in the hole of the shed's back wall, facing the creek. It'd be my prime pick of a spot, too, with the field across the creek to watch and the shed between my nest and the noisy kids and dog, taking full advantage of the roof's overhang.
We have some not-too-bright but very determined robins who have rebuilt a nest on top of one of our floodlights, up high, after Dada got it all cleaned off once already. The previous owners came to check out the drainage in the yard and commented that the robins did it every single year. Must like warm, toasty eggs...
It's going to be too wet to mow for the rest of forever, so I'll just sit back and enjoy the foliage.
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