I love the outdoors. I love the soft breezes, the green grass, the brilliant flowers...the pebbles, the freshly turned soil, and the ponds. I love it all, except when it tries to come indoors...which it is trying to do right this very moment.

I open the house for these beautiful days. I unshut the windows (well, those that aren't missing screens...naughty Miles) and I raise the storm panels on the screen doors. I love hearing the birds during the day, along with the young children playing in the play area nearby. Happy, delightful sounds...makes for happy, delightful Lauras.

I also enjoy a clean house, as has been well documented. I like shiny surfaces, the smell of Lysol, and the carpet tracks of a fresh vacuuming. Call them cheap thrills, if you will. This is not well suited to springtime in Wilmington, NC.

Yellow dust. Everywhere. It is a vile instrument that causes me to be unsound. Miles stands, dumbfounded and not a little patronizing, in the living room every night as I vent. He tells me, "Hon. It's clean. We have the cleanest house that I have ever been in." The man is blind. I swear he's blind. He's just got to be blind.