I'm drinking my favorite coffee, Wake the Dead.
Gus has been out and has been fed. Woodrow has been fed and has had his treats. He reminded me by politely knocking the container off the counter and then giving me the evil eye. You dare not forget or make him wait.
I spent Friday night watching a program on television about tiny houses, then one (several) about people buying vacation homes on the ocean. Both could make you crazy. If you want to be reminded of the great diversity in human beings, this is a good place to start.
There was a young couple with three kids under the age of six, and one on the way. They were planning to take their entire family in a house of less than 300 square feet on the road to tour the country. Everything she said, he responded with, "That would be a lot of work." That would have been enough for me to commit an act of verbal violence. They finally settled on a moldy old school bus that had been made into a camper where they would have to shower while standing in a small galvanized tub. I don't see this ending well.
The other show illustrated the other end of the spectrum. These people could not possibly live with black appliances or granite counter tops. I told Regis we would be fairly boring contestants on this show. Yup, that's fine. Yup, that's fine. No tantrums over paint color or flooring. I guess this is why HGTV doesn't come knocking.
It's October 1st. I thought it would take me the month of August to get my feet on the ground after my unfortunate incarceration. (I don't view it that way but the phrase tickles me greatly.) Turns out, it has taken me the month of September, too. I know people who have gone back to full-time work. One of my friends is leaving for Thailand next week to tutor monks and refugees, I am trying to get my dishes done every day and not take a three hour nap. Another case where I just have to lower my standards.
I have accomplished a few things but not much that shows. I have yard work to do, house projects to do, things to organize and sort and delete. Sigh. Maybe a tiny house wouldn't be such a bad idea.
It must be hunting season for some poor critters. I am awakened every morning to the sound of gun shots. A friend of ours, Marie, said to duck when we are on a walk. You never know when one of us could be mistaken for a goose.
Bill Murray was asked what it's like to be him. I love his answer.