Late Post on a Rainy Day

 Late Post on a Rainy Day

 

The first task of my morning is feeding the cats. Buddy, and The Skinamalink want their tuna, and Ol' Buddy is howlin' and meowlin' like a police car going code three. Once the catfish mafia has been appeased I get to work on the coffee. Then I sit in the dark in the living room waiting for the brew. Did I metion that waking up is a long process? Some days are foggier than others. Like this morning. Ten minutes after turning on the coffee maker I was hearing the wrong sound. I went in and looked at the pot, and it had barely an inch of coffee in it. The lid to the carafe was lying there on the counter. The clever little valve that lets you sneak out the pot, and pour a cup while the machine is still brewing did its job. The whole machine was clogged up with a hot flooded slurry of coffee grounds. You can't dump that in the sink.

 So five o'clock in the morning found me barefoot in my pajamas, hosing out the coffee machine onto the backyard lawn. Then I had to clean up the mess in the kitchen, and start brewing a new pot. I've had better mornings.

But anyway.

 

It's been a quiet week...

But this isn't Lake Woebegone.  Or maybe it is. If I click through the various bookmarks on the desktop I come away pretty darn depressed over the state of things. World, hell, handbasket, all that stuff. The insanity is just breathtaking, this hell bent desire for the un-making of the world. 

And I have no idea at all what kind of nonsense is being vomited, and shat of the television. 

But here at the house things have been peaceful. Daily life for Mary and me is good.  We have much to be grateful for. By the time I finished this morning's coffee the rain had begun to fall. Rain is always welcome here in So Cal.

 Work on the stone is coming along slowly. I have several ideas competing with one another right now, so the rock stays put until one plan prevails. The rain is supposed to be over by tomorrow. Maybe by next week I'll make a hole in the stone. We'll see.