I have a theory

that the person who invented garden gnomes was in fact a recluse who was lonely, so he or she invented some friends that he could talk to, thus they have different outfits and personalities etc. That's the theory anyway. Apparently if you have garden gnomes and you are trying to sell your house each garden gnome detracts $1000 from the sale price. So if you have an asking price of $200,000 and you have 50 garden gnomes, you'll be looking at around $150,000. Interesting hey.

You know the sounds of nature vary so much throughout the course of the day and night. During the day it's all birds twittering and horses whinnying and dogs barking and then all the man made things like trucks and cars and whatnot. In the evening there is a symphony of sound with crickets and cicadas, frogs and other night creatures. Now in the middle of the night, I'm talking 2 or 3 in the morning here, most of these sounds are gone and all you can hear is the sound of the wind and the odd frog taking a base jump from a tree branch and landing with a fairly hefty plop onto the ground below. That and the odd buck of a horse against the stable. Or a random bird flying overhead, usually a duck or a goose, and a honk honk there you go. Well, that's here anyway.

There was actually a point to this train of thought, however I have, since beginning the paragraph and ending the paragraph, changed two nappies, cleared off the breakfast dishes and grabbed myself a Red Bull, so now I've lost it. Oh well. It's also noisy in my head. Probably should mention that too.

I think the job for today will be installing all the cupboard and drawer locks in the kitchen. If I say get out of the cupboard one more time, to either of the girls, I think I may go even more insane than I already am. I'm also quite sick of seeing Tupperware strewn in various places around the house, and, more disturbingly, replaced by the girls back into the cupboard. They will think nothing of using a little container to house whatever tasty floor food they have found in their travels, mix it in with a little water from Tabitha's bottle, tip it all out wherever it may land, and then pop the container back into the cupboard. My jaw also dropped rather low when I witnessed Lexi finish her breakfast, lick the remaining milk off the spoon, then place it back into its rightful spot in the drawer. Let's just say I'm extra vigilant at mealtimes these days.

It's a lovely day outside although rain is forecast. Another joy of the tropics. Wet season.

Lexi and I might cook something today. I still have quite a few mangoes so might make a mango cake. Or an apple tea cake. Or a banana cake. I think it is fairly safe to say though that whatever we do make, it will end in cake.