Dirty nasty grasshopper porn!

Good gravy! Can’t go outside without having to shield my daughters from disgusting insect sex happening right on our patio!! GROSS! No, really. S’up?! My darlings are staying at my parents place for the second night in a row. Wowza. So much quiet time and all I can think to do is write a post on 20/20. Such a luxury, really. Today has been a dream. Woke up at 8 a.m. Lay around until 9 when I had wallowed long enough. Ate a leftover chocolate chip bagel, had a cup of Earl Gray tea. Electricity went out again, but then came back on. Took a walk down the street to the bookstore (I know, a BOOKSTORE?? Who knew there were any little bookstores down the street anymore?), got some books for the ladies for their upcoming FIFTH birthday, got myself a book, then strolled to the cutie Frenchie bakery across the street. Got me a pastry, a soy latte, read the intro to my book, started walking home, realized about halfway home I’d left my purse/bag/contraption that holds my credit cards, license, registration and other important items at said Frenchie bakery, walked with purpose back, got my bag where I’d left it, walked all the way home. Lay around on the couch, read a little more of my book, drank the rest of my latte, and was in utter silence.

I again find myself in silence. A child-free life is a quiet one. A life where you start a task and have a good chance of finishing it. A life where the cicadas outside blend with the click of typing and breathing. Nobody is fighting over anything anywhere in the house. Husband watches a movie he wants to see downstairs, I relax, freshly showered, on our bed. I am tired but not from having done anything particularly strenuous today. But just tired, not completely frazzled and exhausted. There is a difference.

Perhaps it was the one beer I had with dinner. I could have done without it, actually. It’s been so long since I had a beer I’ve forgotten that it is beer OR dinner, not beer with dinner. Too filling. Scotch would have been a better bet. Oh well. It’s only 9:07 p.m. There is still time for a thimble of whiskey!

Am about to start a small series of floral paintings. Probably five total. Three on canvas, two on wood panels. I believe the Maryland state flower is the object of desire. Dying. The flowers have so much more depth of color when they are on their way out.

Silence is loud, but not as loud as screaming. Two five year-old girls screaming. No. Nothing is that loud.

I look forward to hearing of their Grandparentish adventure tomorrow. After I’ve had a chance to peruse the NY Times in silence.