"Are you catching up with your sleep?" queried PV. She knew that my customary six hours were interrupted by night-calls from my littlest Grand, last week. The answer is "No," thanks to Mother Nature.
If you're nocturnal, you'll be lovin' warm nights and country crickets, loud enough to waken the dead... or me. As a kid summering at Gran's bungalow, not quite the insomniac I am now, their sound seemed soothing. Now, though, I've actually resorted to Christian's ploy to block sound with sound. Yep, he turns a floor fan on high enough to resemble a jet engine revving up on a runway. "Helps the kids to sleep." Joe and I always thought the custom ridiculous; but there sat the fan, a remnant of spring break. Need I say more? It sort of works, if you can psyche yourself into accepting thunderous "white" noise....
But last night was chilly, the crickets subdued; so, no fan. Lo and behold, at five a.m., Courtin' Cardinal decided to croon his love tune under our bedroom window. Wanna know how cranky that made me? Come on, Kahuna, find yourself another perch.
Does Ike know the secret to sleep success? He just beckoned from his cushy indoor bed to be let out to do his business, after which he climbed upon his outdoor cot, for a few more zzzz's.
Six hours. Too much to ask for? I need a cuppa joe, as my Joe sleeps through it all... the birds, the bugs and the engines. I'm clearly jealous. And tired.
