All is well

Claire is spending a few days with her father, and she seems to be having a great time. At least if her shopping haul is anything to go by, she is!  I think she's ticked a few more items off her CampAmerica "to buy" list and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel (smile).
Meanwhile, back at the funny farm (it sometimes feels that way), I am waiting, like Posy, to see if the birds are going to take to my new bird-feeder. I've hung it up in the garden, full of tasty snacks, but so far, no party.  I understand that it takes a while for the birds to discover a new source of food, so I'm anxiously keeping an eye out for them to notice it. I have hung it in the sumac tree, far from any inquisitive ginger puss who may be on the prowl. I'm turning into my mother, in my old age: she could always tell us the names of all the birds, and recognised their different songs. There is something so cheerful and pure about the song of a blackbird or robin, and it's one of the things I always stop to listen out for; something to feel grateful for. When I'm down and engrossed in my own problems, I try to take pleasure in the simple things....
Anyway, time for an early night I think. Nite all :)