No more itching
Too much time to ponder the possibilities. Or the weather. Granted, this year, watching the prevarications (lovely word, that) of nature has been better than a good movie. Who would have thought that seeing a snow plow in action could be such fun?
Funny how blasé I’ve become. No more itching to get out and on the bus. No quick trips to the mall, to see how the economy is doing. Even the dog accepts that life starts and finishes just beyond the front door; maybe that’s what he tells the world, loudly.
So, what do I wish for? Right now, inspiration. What to have for supper. What would fit into a photocopy paper carton. Do I need to buy expensive garage toys? For the record, that means ride-on stuff. Lawn tractor. Snow mover. A boat hauler, in case I ever get a boat. Thankfully I resist idle dreams.
Seriously, though. As one day blends (seamlessly) into the next, I’ll soon need a new calendar. With big squares, to write important stuff, should the need present itself. And an answering machine. Or maybe not; let fate prevail. Either you catch me at home, or you don’t.
Did I make it clear that I’m floating, this last while? The next step is lost in some sort of fog. Need a breeze…
I am learning new sandwich ideas, along the way. Saw a suggestion involving potato chips, and I may test the idea (on someone else). Mixed cheeses also work well, and there might be a book or two out there with seeds of inspiration.
