It's a sin to what?

Two o'clock in the mornin', and the mockingbird in my pecan tree across the street is trying desperately to prove that he's the manliest man in the tiny Philadelphia treetops.

Seriously, that bird has an impressive vocabulary. I recorded a couple of minutes of it on the nifty little recorder thingie that Amy sent me. He belts out a couple of measures of song, and then he repeats that motif three or four times. Then he moves on to another call, which is repeated three or four times. And so on, and so forth. When he gets around to sounding like a mockingbird, he starts all over again.

It's amazing.

And I'm glad I don't sleep with my windows open, or I would not get any sleep at all.

Summertime. And the livin' is... air conditioned, thank heaven.