A Carport With Balls.

When we first moved in last summer, our carport was covered in vines and greenery which made it look very nice, even if it was a bit unkempt and attracted lots of bees:





It stayed that way through the summer and most of the fall, green and bushy even if it wasn't producing the delicious grapes that some of the other vines on our property were. Then as winter approached the greenery started dying off, as greenery does, and we just had the bare vines covering the carport. It was then that we first noticed IT poking out, and we could see IT in passing. But IT wasn't too prominent, and at first I wouldn't have even noticed IT from most angles. As the winter carried on and the vines fell away IT became more prominent, but it was only this weekend after K. worked in the garden and cut away all the vines that IT became a prominent feature of our yard:





Yes, in addition to all of the other crazy things that the previous owners left behind, they left us with an eagle statue prominently adorning our carport, at least for several months of the year. Now, every time I walk to the car I feel like I am crossing through the set of The Colbert Report (and yes, I know that this is probably ironic payback for my dreams of installing The Daily Show set in our living room...)

But worst of all, at least as far as K. is concerned, every time I see the eagle -- or really even think about it, for that matter, I can't help but break into song. What song, you ask? Well, I start singing the classic "Let The Eagle Soar" by Governor/Senator/Attorney General John Ashcroft. Sure, I don't know any of the lyrics beyond the first two lines despite the fact that I was once in a musical with Ashcroft's son (True Story). But those first two lines are stuck in my head pretty much constantly these days. Say what you want about Ashcroft as a politician (and, believe me, I do), but the man can write a song.