This is a terrible photo of Mrs. Bird but I know people want to see her. She'd die on the spot if she saw this but she's not an Internet girl and so she won't see this.
Mrs. Bird--outside of Mimi's--said, "Oh, look, here's some lavender. If you ever need to make lavender bags just come here."
I said, "you can't do that, Mrs. Bird--but I used her real name--that lavender belongs to Mimi's"
"Oh, I do it all the time," she said. And since you never know if she did or didn't we just laughed and went inside for dinner.
She told hilarious stories, I can't recall the one I could tell--the other one is, well, a little racy. I'll tell it another day because tonight, I'm tired. And because House is almost over and now I have to rewind and see why the alien hand was acting out, because I missed it. I did see the part about the squawking man, so I won't have to rewind everything. And House is finally going in for treatment. And the hunky Dr. Chase got married. And that was the season's finale.
Lisa, who blogs here--but not very often--and here--more often with a bunch of other sassy women--, says I should order all the House DVD's from Netflix and get this whole show figured out. Do you KNOW what would happen if I ordered House from Netflix? I already order 99% of our choices and 95% of them are weird, foreign films, grade B movies or Chic Flicks and Phil is not amused. Well, maybe he is a little bit amused as he holds his head in his hands, smiles faintly and says, "Not another one." And then he laughs, in a feeble sort of way.
And that is why I watch House late at night, after he is in bed.
There's an explanation for everything.
Well, maybe not for Mrs. Bird. Some things just cannot be explained.
Ooh, and I think I just heard someone at the front door and it's 1:10 a.m. and now I'm spooked so I'm taking the baseball bat and going to bed. Quietly. In the dark. If I never blog again you'll know why. Send flowers.