My neighbor and I emailed back and forth yesterday. Because, well, that's what neighbors do, right? Who has time these days for an actual face-to-face talk? I mean, that would require me actually walking across my yard to hers. And WHY would I do that when I can e-mail in the quiet seclusion of my home?
Ahhh...the life of a recluse.
Actually our new-found hermitism hasn't been one of choice. For the past couple of weeks, Charis has had some sort of horrible rash that the doctors (yes, that would be plural) haven't been able to figure out. So, being extra careful, I've tried to keep her out of the sun. (Our strawberry picking time was her first official venture out.) Sooo...my girls have been living like bats. Coming outside around dusk, when most normal people are eating dinner.
On a couple of occasions, I've seen them with their faces plastered to the door, waving frantically at Laura and her children. "Mom! Miss Laura sees me! She's waving!! See? Hi!! Hi!!"
Pitiful. One rash has caused me to become a prison wardon.
In fact the other day, I walked into the front living room. Both Selah and Charis were propped up on a chair, looking out the window. "Look at that, Selah! I think...I think it looks like a bird. Yeah, that's a bird."
Doesn't that just break your heart? The little inmates hoping for a chance-spotting of wildlife. At that point, we all got in the car and left. I don't remember WHERE we went. But we went.
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