the comedy is divine

I decided weeks ago that the diaper pail needed a little decoration. Plain white can in the hallway outside S's room? Boring. Not any more. I have embellished its lid with such glorious literary eruditeness that I am quite pleased with myself. Quite. Dante would be proud to see that his work has survived the centuries and now adorns my daughter's diaper pail. I thought it terribly appropriate. If my high school English teacher could see me now...

Okay, nerdiness aside. I had quite the morning. Otis caught another unsuspecting creature. I was eating my breakfast, getting ready to mash up some banana for baby girl when I heard what sounded like an entire flock of birds erupt in protest. I looked out the back window to see about a half dozen birds hopping along the back of the fence, screeching at Otis, who was getting ready to pounce on a bird that was hopping around in the back corner of the yard. Clearly, the bird was already injured because it was hopping about six feet at a time but never taking off. As I stuck my head out the door to yell for Otis, the bird hopped into the air and that was pretty much all she wrote. Otis caught it right out of the air. Lovely. Luckily, my shoes from the great chipmunk chase of a few days ago were still by the back door. As I pulled my shoes on, I pleaded with Otis to drop the flailing bird. I ran and grabbed some plastic bags and dashed into the rain-soaked backyard. (Did I mention it was raining?) I turned the hose on full blast and chased Otis to the side of the yard, where he promptly dropped his catch and walked away. I don't know if all the bird's flailing had him freaked out or if he was actually retrieving the bird for me, and I don't care. At least he dropped it. That's the good news. The bad news is that the poor thing was still alive. Fairly mangled, but alive and likely in agony. So, I acted like the good farm girl that I am and broke its neck. Even typing that sentence makes me feel awful. I couldn't just let it suffer, though. Anyway, I scooped it into the plastic bag and took it to the garbage. That was that. Another day in the life...

I think there may be too much excitement around here. Way too much...and not excitement like, "Hey! I just won the lottery." I'd welcome that kind of excitement.

I'm off to do some laundry and then attack the squash bugs in the garden. Fantastic.

FIVE SENSES FRIDAY
Sight: S covered in avocado; so many tomatoes growing in the garden
Sound: Cory Branan's new (okay, it's been out for awhile) CD; S laughing
Smell: Basil in the garden; zucchini bread in the oven; Method lemon floor cleaner
Taste: peaches; cherries; zucchini bread; homemade croutons
Touch: clean sheets; clean Otis fur

Oh, yeah...at six months, the wee one is 20.5 pounds; 28.25 inches. That equals enormous. I should likely stop referring to her as "the wee one."