Sleepless in the Southland

I can handle anything if I have enough sleep.

Anything.

However, the last couple of weeks have been . . . interesting . . .in terms of getting all the sleep I want.

First, there is The Bird.

Apparently there is a bird who acts as rooster for all the other birds. It starts twittering and tweeting all by itself before the first touch of light.  Then, the next thing you know, other birds start singing  and carrying on.

In the early spring it's lovely to wake to birdsong. However, as the days have started to lengthen, The Bird has started its wake-up calls even earlier.

That's one thing.

Then we have our newspaper carrier.

Actually, I am delighted with him, since our newspaper ALWAYS lands on our stoop. I don't have to traipse about in the dewy grass searching for it. However, he hurls the paper at the stoop from his car. Occasionally it hits the front door with a THWACK that jolts me into an upright and wide awake position, since my bedroom window is over the front door.

And then we have the new neighbors.

A couple of weeks ago, a multigenerational family moved in, and it appears that the grandfather and father work together. Whatever they do requires them to leave at about 4 a.m.

Generally they have a fairly quiet conversation, just the barest rumble of bass voices rising from the street. And there is the car starting and the car doors closing, which at 4 a.m., are much louder than they would be at 4 p.m.  But still, not a problem.

Then there was this morning, the perfect storm.

The Bird started up at 3:30 a.m. and was apparently perched in the holly bush by the front door.  And this morning, he was determined to wake EVERYONE up.  In moments there was a maelstrom of birdcalls.

And then the newspaper carrier hit the front door with such a mighty THWACK that the paper ricocheted off the door and clanged into the metal railing around the stoop. It sounded like the entire pot cupboard avalanched.

This did not shut up The Bird.

Just as I was about to drift off again, Grandfather and Father came out to go to work, and things were not going well in their world.  They were having an argument, at the tops of their respective lungs.  I'd love to tell you what the argument was all about, but they were not speaking English--or Spanish--or French--or German--or Latin, which are the languages I can identify.  They continued to yell while they entered the car and the driver laid rubber leaving their driveway.

At this point, I gave up on the idea of sleeping, which would have come in handy today since I had another marathon session in the dentist's chair.

However, as this is a stitching blog, there has been some stitching going on:

Here's the completed whitework band I showed you earlier.  I have another couple of small bands and a hardanger band to stitch at the bottom of the sampler, then I need to go back and do the lacis band above this one.  The end is near!

But now, I'm going to bed.