Feet up, butt in chair

Pen in hand, notebook on lap, tis the season to write, write, write. Yes, summer is my very favorite season of all. And I begin every summer with the best of intentions. And yes, I do find much FUBIC time on my hands. Not without its interruptions, of course, as any mother will tell you, but they are becoming fewer, spaced out more. I'm talking about the children, the ones that are growing up and quite happy to be off playing with friends and escaping too frequent parental inspections. Those I can deal with.

So there must be a new annoyance in the neighborhood. There's no construction vehicles. Loud car stereos are becoming more infrequent (local police patrols are quite frequent, and they have a thing for those car stereos). So it must be ... new neighbors ... close neighbors ... dog owners ... big dogs ... barking dogs ... whose reasonable requests to come inside after the morning thing seem to take FOREVER. And also, they miss their owners quite sadly and loudly every afternoon around 3:00, which is at least a couple hours before anyone comes home to greet them.

I wonder if the BarkOff works.