I realize I've been slacking a bit lately - it's a combination of getting used to this new format, remembering I even have a blog, really. Please excuse me during this transitional period. I promise great, or at least¬semi-great,¬things ahead. In the meantime, a brief update.

A new brood of baby bluebirds are thriving in our backyard. J got a picture yesterday which I hestitate to post here, because a) I'm (as mentioned above) still getting used to this new blog and how to use it and b) they are pretty ugly. We'll post a pic when they get a little nicer looking. Of course, not sure when that will happen as J was nearly attacked by the father bird yesterday when he went to snap the shot. Hey birds, we're keeping live worms in the fridge for your enjoyment. We get to take pictures of your day-old infants.
I'm going on about two weeks without a cell phone and am beginning to feel a bit like a caveman, or person from the 1980s. Today I heard some little old woman showing her new cell off to Josephine - its sounds, its features - and I nearly lept up and grabbed it from her, just so I could write one text. Just one, short, pointless text...Luckily, the insurance carrier (that's right, I have insurance on my cell phone due to my cell phone history) has sent a new phone and I should be receiving it shortly. When I do, I should probably put it in a bulletproof sachel and lock in in some sort of iron lockbox, but instead I'll probably throw it around my¬car after making seven or eight calls while driving down the highway and then drop¬it in the toilet.
While at the Bay this weekend, J and my father decided that the newly renovated rooms needed names, and J promptly decided that the loft area, which will be used as a library of sorts, should be called the "Kuralt" room. My father got very excited about this and immediately started referring to is as such, like, "We need a computer for the Kuralt Room." For those of you who aren't aware of my family's twisted¬relationship with the man, he's referring to the late, great journalist Charles Kuralt, whom my father adores. Later, when we were talking about what kind of art we could put in the room, my mother mentioned that, in addition to pictures of Kuralt, we might want to put up some pictures of his second family.
It is finally, after a week or so of pounding rain, summer - hot, oppressive summer - here in North Carolina,¬the Hurricanes won the Stanley Cup, and in the jungle that is the front yard of our tiny, cinderblock cottage, flowers¬are blooming, and we even¬spotted a couple adorable chipmunks last week, that Mina definitely wanted to eat, or at least carry around in her mouth. Although I know it's just a sign of the season and, of course, won't last forever, everyone on the streets of Chapel Hill seems undeniably happy and it's a wonderful thing to observe.