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Happy 35th Anniversary, Scott!

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Bird in the...toilet?

Ok, here's the story.  The picture gives away the ending, but I have to start at the beginning.  I was sitting on the couch in the family room, when, WHOOSH, through the room, gliding inches above the floor, comes a bird, who then slides into the patio door.  Patch jumps off the couch and I jump up and grab her.  "Scott, there's a bird, come quick, I've got the cat!"  He comes running with barbeque chicken in hand.  I point to door and say "Over there!"  He starts looking.  No bird.  I hold the cat.  Scott moves curtains, dog bed, chair.  No bird.  I continue holding the cat and give excellent suggestions from the sidelines.  "Look under the chair.  Behind the TV.  On the fireplace"  No bird.  Dinah shows no interest and Patch is ready to scratch my eyes out, so I lock her hissing and snarling, in the kitchen with Bella.  (Sorry Bella...) and join the search.  Scott, in all his manliness, grabs the heavy duty flashlight and we look everywhere.  Under the couch.  On top of the TV cabinet, in the cat house.  Under the bookcase.  IN THE BATHROOM!  No bird.  Really, Scott, I swear, THERE WAS A BIRD.  But now I am starting to doubt my sanity. Really...!!!There was a bird and now there is not a bird.  So where did it go?  I let Patch back in, hoping she will find the bird, in all her cattiness.  But she runs outside to roll around the patio.  An hour later, I hear splashing in the toilet, and here it is, the bird.  "It's in the toilet, I told you there was a bird!" I gently grab it and place it outside, with the cats locked INside.  I think the bird is fine, it flew away.  After a little bath in the toilet.

May Day

It's a beautifully clear May Day today...still windy, but lovely sunshine and lilacs.  I wanted to put a picture on here of a Maypole Dance we stumbled on in Kensington Gardens when we were in London with Mom and Ray, but the picture is on the other computer and I can't figure out an easy way to move it to this computer.  So you will just have to picture it...warm summer day in the park, we hear fiddle music and come across a folk music festival in a lovely glade ("glade" is a word you only use when you are writing about England.  Or fairies.) and off to the side there is a Maypole set up and children and adults are following the complicated directions of the "caller" (like in square dancing) to twine the ribbons around the pole.  It was lovely.  I know, that is the third time I have used the lovely in this paragraph, but it was.  And I like the word.