Quiet

All morning the boys have largely remained upstairs in their respective rooms doing whatever it is that an almost eleven year old (listening to Weird Al and undoubtedly drawing storyboards to go with the songs) and a fourteen year old (listening to the radio and strumming the never in tune acoustic three quarter guitar when there is perfectly good brand new Ibanez bass and practice amp in the garage) do when they are in their rooms.

Baby C has been lounging on me lazily until she fell asleep, making that great sucky sucky noise with her two fingers squarely in her mouth. Then I was actually able to lay her down in the play yard for a nap.

I'm having a lazy, hazy, thunderstorm impending, hot and humid South Coastal Virginia August quiet, inside with the a/c and the hum of the computer.

I don't feel like doing a darn thing. It's August. I'm supposed to feel this way, but preferably lying on a beach, or under a tree canopy, waving something flat and thin in front of my face, very slowly. It just makes me feels lazier and hotter if I do it any faster.

Uh-oh, that was short lived. Thud, thump, bump, ka-thud from upstairs. Well, no one is screaming yet, and sounds of movement are still evident, so no one has died. Good, I can stay here and do nothing a little while longer. Ah, summer.