Amarillo is a windy, windy place. Chicago? You got NOTHING on us. Seriously. The tumbleweeds are taking over.
Perhaps you remember my arch nemesis Frank? *pokes icon* If you don't remember, or are new to my special breed of prejudice against birds, you can read about my relationship with the creepy-ass stone owl here, here, here or here.
But I digress. So hubs is down in the big D this evening, staying with Mom, who loves him enough to give him a bed and leftovers, thankfully. I have not had a stellar day, but I really needed a win this afternoon. I had a great theatre class, but just before I left for that, I was on the phone with Nolan, and I happened to look out the window into the backyard.
( Nolan calls me from the road where he's stuck in traffic, and is moaning about people being idiots on the highways in Dallas, and I interrupt his rant with some evil laughter.)
Nolan: What are you laughing about?
Me. I'm looking at your freaking owl.
Nolan. (defensive) Don't mess with my owl.
Me. I didn't do a thing to your stinky, old owl. But it's pretty windy today.
Me. So your owl is face down in the flower beds next to the dead holly trees that the gardener hasn't come to replace.
Nolan. Go pick Frank up.
Me. I don't think so.
Nolan. Don't leave him like that.
Me. You can pick him up when you get home. (More evil laughter)
Nolan. Fine. FINE. (there are pleasantries and 'I love yous' and we hang up.)
Then I go outside, and gloat a little, camera in hand.
How do you like kissing the mulch, bird boy? You're not so smug now, are ya? ARE YA?!
*more evil laughter*
Clearly, I need help.
Also, Google themes are love.
And I just got off the phone with Daddy, and he's great. Prayers answered! Woo hoo!