...and the little frogs in the neighbors' fountain pond have started to raise a ruckus. Most of the time I don't hear them because in the summer I usually have all the doors and windows closed against the oppressive heat. But we have not turned on the AC yet... and it's VERY warm today... and so I have my windows open towards... the neighbors... and their screeching froglets. Really! These are not your typical friendly neighborhood peepers. These are not the melodious, cute-sounding little froggies of the Fairwood swamp. These are the terrorists, the divas, the rock stars, the gangsters, the nasty brats of the frog world. When I hear them, all I picture is a big mouth, Charlie Brown style, opened wide in a raspy roar, little tears spouting from eyes that are squeezed shut. The sound they make leads me to believe there is a baby somewhere in the neighborhood who has been left on someone's front doorstep and is howling in dire distress. Or a wailing little child whose malicious older sibling is repeatedly pulling their hair... for hours. I keep doing a double take thinking that Aiden is upstairs awaking from a nap, and calling me to come feed him, but then I see him in his swing, sleeping peacefully.
In other spring news... yardsale season has officially begun. Today was not the first day I went to a yardsale this year - that happened over a month ago- but today was the day of the annual big neighborhood yardsale in my in-law's subdivision. I heard it might rain in the afternoon and I was pathetically afraid that it might mean the cancellation of the event, but the day dawned bright and it turned out VERY WARM... It's raining now, but so what? My yardsaling hunger has been, temporarily, quenched. Until next week.
This is the third year in a row that I have gone to this particular subdivision yardsale and it proved to be another fun success in the chronicles of The Friday Morning Treasure Hunt. Although less fun because my good old yardsaling buddy, Penny, had to work today. ( MASSIVE POUT and General Protests of Outrage.) I didn't get any hugely spectacular finds, but I did get a modest haul of various delightful and useful objects, and all for under $15. CHEAP FUN and THE THRILL OF THE HUNT! It doesn't get any better than that.
So glad we bought a station wagon!
I am adding to my list of yardsale weaknesses. Besides books, blue glass objects, and black T-shirts, I have come to realize that straw purses/bags are also among the things I cannot resist. ( Well, purses and handbags of all kinds, to be honest. I think this is the natural result of resisting carrying a purse for the better part of my life. Now, it's suddenly all catching up with me. The womanly purse fetish, so long dormant, is making up for lost time!) This is... I think... my third straw bag that I've bought in the last few years. But it's WONDERFUL! It's not a purse. It's not a diaper bag. It's both! At the same time! My weird little heart rejoices. Stan almost lost his life when I caught him scratching The New Bag this afternoon.
Last year at this time, I had just discovered that I was pregnant but hadn't told anyone -except Brad, of course. And the produce man. And I was yardsaling at the same big annual subdivision-wide yardsale with Katie and Penny, and found all these nice baby clothes... and wondered how I could buy them in a casual, yet surreptitious manner, so as not to arouse suspicion. This year, I was carrying Aiden outside of me. Still slightly awkwardly, as he was in his carseat the whole time... but it was fun to bring him around with me and initiate him in the exciting ritual of yardsaling. He has already definitely influenced how I do yardsaling: I look much faster. So many yardsales - so little time between feedings. But it all went...mostly smoothly. Everyone cooed over him and tried to get him to smile and asked how old he was and what his name was and how much he weighed when he was born and how long his toenails were....Okay- I just made up that last part. You get the picture. I like to talk about him, naturally; it's fun! But at one point, I thought it might be easier to make and wear one of those sandwich message boards, listing his vital statistics. It's just funny how babies make everyone all soft and squishy and smiley and nosy and generally lose their inhibitions. In fact, I think babies are like alcohol in that regard - they make people out-going and happy. ( I don't think there are any "mean drunks" in the world of my baby-alcohol analogy. ) I mean, normal, sober adults would never just smile idiotically at another passing adult stranger and make babbling noises and inquire how old they are and what their name is and how much they WEIGH! Can you imagine?! I think the world would be a more interesting place if that DID happen.