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1/22/1999 Birds on a Wire11:45 a.m. Stephen, Matthew, and I are back from our daily walk around the neighborhood. It's a grey day out there, cold and damp. The air is thick with moisture, but it's not heavy enough to fall as rain. I saw three birds sitting on a telephone wire, huddled close for warmth, heads pulled so far down into their feathers that they looked almost headless. Tab says birds sit on the wires because the electric current warms their feet. I'm glad my mood today does not mirror the weather. I feel unaccountably happy, and I'm not sure why. Because it's Friday? Because we had really good sex last night? Because I'm finally starting to get a handle on constructing tables in HTML? Or maybe its just one of those mysterious, unlooked for gifts. 5 p.m. Well, my good mood has drained away like rainwater trickling down the gutter and into the sewer. The boys are loudly squabbling. They are always loud--whether they are fighting or playing, they are always loud. Sometimes I feel like the Grinch in the Christmas special: you can practically see the little mallets hitting me on the sides of my head, as I groan, "Oh, the noise, noise, noise, noise!
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