confession

forgive me readers, for i have sinned.
it has been a week and a half since my last confession.

on monday morning i snuck out of bed.  monday is scott's day to "sleep in" until 8:30, so i get up with the kids and get them breakfast, pack the lunches, comb the hair, make the coffee and wake him in time for him to drive them to school.  then i go back to bed.

or, at least, that was the plan.

i snuck out of bed and turned on the fan in the bathroom to mask the morning noises.  i donned my robe and walked down to the kitchen.  the kids were smiling, reading on the couch.  i thought fleetingly of how beautiful my life was.  then i heard a noise.

a noise like a whirring, a pulsing, a pitch not high, but not low.  a noise that i remembered hearing the night before as well.  i thought it was the air conditioning.  i thought it was the dishwasher.

it wasn't.

with trepidation i realized that neither the air conditioner nor the dishwasher were presently in use.

i looked out the front window.  and gasped.

the front sprinklers were on.  the front sprinklers that we had turned on the night before.  the front sprinklers had been on

                               for
   
                               12

                            hours.  

there was a little river running down our road.  there were birds galore feasting on drowned worms.  i ran to the door, mentally preparing myself for an onslaught of ridicule and scorn from my neighbours, but when i opened it the only dirty looks i received were from said birds.  i quickly shut off the tap and barricaded myself back inside.

on the edge of my mind stood a sign that read "children die every day from lack of clean water".  i averted my attention, but to no avail.    what a truly disgusting waste.  i hesitate telling you, because i am ashamed of myself, but i thought "hey janet, if you can't be honest on the world wide web about your sinful nature, where can you be?"

i think scott and i were waiting for the knock on the door from the city of saskatoon for the rest of our sabbath.  but hey, what are they going to do, kick us out? :).  we really should be fined though.  i suppose the water meter will expose our guilt in time.

on another note, i was thinking yesterday about how i wish you could capture a smell like you can capture an image.  i would definitely bottle the aroma of my front yard in early spring.  blossoms, sweet and fresh and inviting.  lilacs are used as hedging around this city, so every so often their purpley scent will smash into you, but i don't think that's what i smell out front.  i think it's the neighbours crab apple, and my laurel, and maybe the hedge as well.  whatever it is, it mixes into this truly intoxicating perfume that i can't get enough of.  

two lovely fat robins have built the most beautiful little nest-home in our cedar right beside the front door.  today scott looked inside and was rewarded with the sight of three perfectly blue eggs.  i went out and took some pics but had to cut the photo session short due to some very angry bird parents sitting on my roof.  i'm pretty sure that the father gave me the stink-eye, but it was hard to tell because, well, i was nervous to look squarely at them, and with eyes on the sides of their heads it's a little difficult to know exactly which direction they're focussed.   i wanted to remind them of the monday morning worm feast, but felt it best not to bring up the indiscretion out-of-doors.

thank you for being my confessional.  i don't feel better having told you, but it does feel right and good to share my sins.  i have a movie downstairs from the library that has the tag-line "hope begins where secrets end".  amen to that.

and take it from me:  set an alarm when you turn on your sprinkler.