Because people sing to me

Some workers are trimming the trees around our apartment. I suspect that if today wasn't a Portland-style drizzly day that this would actually mean that a ray of light would be coming in our windows. This will totally change our lives, I think. To actually be able to open the windows and have sun streaming in.

I have the back sliding door wide open (with the screen closed) and the front door open (again, with a screen). The 5 or 6 workers who are hanging from the various trees are serenading me in Spanish right now. Well, I have to admit that they might not necessarily be singing to me, but considering that I am sitting in the LR at the table working, and they are less than 10 feet away from me and there is only a flimsy plastic screen between us, they ARE singing to me. I tried hooking up a mic to my computer to record their voices, but all I got was some odd mechanical sounds from my processor (no music). Grrr.

These are the same workers who, when I came home from class yesterday afternoon, had made nests of burlap sacks in the bushes and were catching a quick nap after lunch. When I rode past them on my bike one of them tipped the brim of his hat at me and winked. I'm suspecting that The Winker is the one who's singing the loudest right now.

John never believes that people sing to me when I am at home during the day. It's often the neighbors, and not men in trees. But it happens. All the time. Promise.
;)