The storm system that had been bringing us afternoon storms has taken a bit of a break (though our weather people say it will return in a few days), so we are enjoying a few full days of sunshine. My petunias are in, as are my tomato plants, and I have my geraniums in my pots in the front of the house.

Since the weather is so nice, not only have I been opening our front bedroom window at night, but I have also been opening our bedroom window that faces the backyard. That way we get a nice cross breeze all night long.

But here’s the thing. Remember my Butter Battle? Well now as the sun just begins to turn the sky a pale pink at four o’clock, the house finches in the backyard join with the chickadees in the front yard to give me a symphony of bird songs.

I really don’t mind as I find the chirping so sweet. But….

(Cue music) Dum dum duuuuuuuuum.

They have been joined by a murder of crows. (That is the correct term, by the way. A group of crows is referred to as a murder. I think it’s because as you listen to the truly unpleasant sound they make, you want to murder someone.)

I know that all creatures somehow fit into God’s plan. But I struggle to figure out the role of the crow. I guess it’s just to consume the dead squirrels that lie in the middle of the street post vehicular squirrel homicide. But seriously, that caw caw caw? What’s up with that? There is certainly not a thing pleasant about that sound. Especially at four o’clock in the morning.

The crows showed up last spring for the first time. Our neighbors – for reasons I simply can’t understand – choose to feed big birds such as pigeons. I don’t judge. Save for their flying over my house in flocks, the pigeons leave us alone. But I believe the large peanuts that attract the pigeons have also attracted the crows, and that’s just plain unpleasant. The crows like to gather in our trees, like some sort of Edgar Allen Poe/Alfred Hitchcock collaboration, and caw caw caw. It’s darn right creepy.

I didn’t have a great night’s sleep anyway. On Monday, as others were grilling their burgers and hot diggity dogs, and as Bill was working on our sprinkler system outside, I chose to have a movie marathon. I had gotten two wonderful movies from the library – The Music Man and Mary Poppins and watched them both.

I probably haven’t watched Mary Poppins since my son was small – so probably not for thirty-some years. As for The Music Man, I don’t think I’ve seen that movie since I was a small girl myself. But as I watched, I tried to figure something out. Those were not the days of DVDs or ITunes or You Tube. So – at least with The Music Man – I probably have seen the movie once. Maybe a second time sometime in my life. Same is likely true with Mary Poppins. I don’t think we ever owned the video tape when Court was small. BUT I KNEW EVERY WORD OF EVERY SONG IN BOTH MOVIES.

How did that happen? My speculation is that Mom owned the records. We always had music going in our house when I was growing up – either from a radio that sat on her kitchen counter or from the enormous stereo console that sat in the living room. She/he/we probably played those albums over and over.

But you know how a song can stick in your head? And then run through your brain during the night? I had a musical extravaganza going through my head all night long last night.

Sleep for a bit. Roll over and awaken slightly…..

Just a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down, the medicine go do-own, the medicine go down.

Get up. Use the bathroom. Go back to sleep. Roll over and awaken slightly….

Seventy-six trombones led the big parade, with a hundred and ten cornets close at hand. They were followed by rows and rows of the finest virtuos, the cream of every famous band.

Roll over, fall asleep again, until…..

I love to laugh – ha ha ha ha – loud and long and clear. I love to laugh – ho ho ho ho – it’s getting worse every year. The more I laugh…..

Argh. Get up. Look out my window. Go back to bed and nod off.

Oh, we’ve got trouble (yes we’ve got trouble). Right here in River City (right here in River City). Oh yes we’ve got trouble, with a Capital T that rhymes with P and that stands for pool (that stands for pool).

I just kept thinking, there are two lovely, LOVELY lullabies in Mary Poppins (Stay awake don’t rest your head, don’t lie down upon your bed, and Feed the birds, tuppence a bag). Why-oh-why couldn’t those damn songs be running through my head. But noooooo…

So if I’m kind of crabby today, between Mary Poppins and Bert and Professor Harold Hill and Marion and my crows, chickadees and house finches, you know why.