Wednesday afternoon. I am just sitting down at my computer to try to get some work done while my youngest child naps. (That's how the "work at home" thing goes sometimes: in between reading blogs, you have to type some e-mails, write some reports, and talk on the phone while wearing a dorky headset. Fine.) Today appears like it might be a particularly productive day because my oldest child is also napping. She never naps. Except for when--like today--she has a fever and she is miserable (and demanding). But, nonetheless, for the moment she is asleep, which means that I won't have to jump up every three minutes to get some juice or to fix the DVD player or to help with a craft project. I might have a whole hour of uninterrupted work time. I might even be able to complete a thought or two.
Lo and behold, a large truck appears outside my house. And within a few minutes, this is the view from my socond-floor bedroom window:
Yes, that is a bucket loader. There is man in there (although you can't really see him), and he is wielding a chain saw. A very noisy chain saw. Our neighbor, whose house is oh, a mere five yards from our house, is having many large trees taken down. Today.
Here is another view:
While I am taking the pictures, it occurs to me that perhaps my computer chair isn't the best place to be sitting this afternoon. My computer chair is in the sunroom, which is directly beneath my bedroom, meaning that it is right where all the action is happening. My computer chair is about eighteen inches from the window. There are three buff men running around right outside that window with ropes and chain saws. Branches are falling down like rain, occasionally brushing against the house and making me jump. It is noisy and distracting, and my living room smells like diesel fuel from the wood chipper. The tree is coming down in sections--LARGE sections--which dangle precariously by ropes just outside the window. Occasionally one drops to the ground with a huge thud that makes my entire house vibrate. I envision one of them swinging toward me, and I am a bit unnerved.
Clearly, no work is going to get done this afternoon. Thankfully, this distraction arrived in the mail today:
So I sit down--in my dining room, on the other side of my house--with the bookbookbook and some iced coffee.
At which point my four year old wakes up and announces that she needs to throw up.
*On the bright side, once the trees are gone we might actually get some sun in our sun room.