I promised not to complain about the weather, so I will merely "report" that this computer tells me it is 38 degrees in Shelton, 58 in Victorville, CA, and 80 in Mesa, AZ; but we have fog...so there!
My great-grandmother (Leticia Virginia) used to say "I feel better when I'm in a rut." Only, she had that nasal, "old South," Luray, Virginia twang in her voice. In my head I can hear her but I can't put it on the page. O, that's right! Luray is in Page County, VA. (sorry).
But we were talking about a rut. I'm back...in a foggy sort of way.
Here, for the fascination of all is "My Rut."
Awaken somewhere between 5:15 and 5:45 by a little dog sitting on my chest, licking my forehead. When I peek out under the covers she's still there, usually about 3-5 inches away...two black eyes staring at me saying, "I gotta pee."
So we...me and the two dogs...get up and go for our walk. For me it's a prayer walk...a conversation of sorts. Back home the little one goes into her Tasmanian Devil routine, running the length of the cabin, jump on the couch, spin around a few times, growl ferociously, and do it all over again.
Do the blogging thing about important issues of the day.
Read from the Bible...today is 2nd Peter, 2nd chapter.
Fix my breakfast...something ugly like lentils, a tomato, and toast.
Decide whether or not to shower...I guess not. I did that last evening. Besides, how dirty can you get sleeping?
Go to work somewhere on the property. The present pressing project is moving dirt onto the drain field where the rains have eroded it away. Fine grading, putting down a mesh material over the dirt, cover that with playground cover (that's thin pieces of cedar strips and shavings, yada...yada. (Is everyone asleep yet; maybe I can just stop right here....."
So, that's my rut, but I don't feel any better by talking about it, and now I have to do it.
Thank you Lord that I'm still able and don't need a cane. (Sorry). e.c.
p.s. I said to my wife, "Would you publish my post?" And she said, "You do that! That'd be a crime!"...the lonely, sorry, life of a writer...and no respect.