Maybe. Maybe not...

I might or might not post a proper entry today. I have mad errands to take care of, and Didgeridoo Boy will be in tow. It's a certainty he'll have errands of his own that will draw out or full-on derail my plans - - so what I write when I get home might be my blogging conscience soother for tomorrow. Sure, I could be working on something right now, while I'm having my a.m. latte - - but I feel foggy and have this song stuck in my head.

What is it with me and seventies music during the spring?

My fogginess isn't due to the song, however. Didge woke me up coming to bed around 2.00am - - I don't know how the man managed to make his laptop jingle, but he did. I don't know why he threw the bedroom door open, but he did. I don't know why he had to bounce the bed so much as he was settling into it, but - - again, he did. I do know, however, why he sang, "Time for you to mooooooooove, ohhhh, it's time for you to mooooooove....", to Totsi. That one should be obvious.

After that, though, he began chortling "Looooo loo loo loo loo loooooooooooo.....". I don't know why he did that, and I'm not sure I want to know. There could be any number of reasons why a grown man would start that at two o'freakity clock in the morning, right? Maybe it was a continuation of the birdsong he broke into while we were driving to pick up dinner. (Never knew he could chirp. Know now.)

So there's my rambling I-got-nothin' excuse. Excuse me while I plunge my face in sink of ice water and put some cucumber slices on my eyes.