...and it's raining. (Oh, glasses make it better.) Porter does not want to go out if it's raining. Does that mean she's going to spend the the morning whining about it? Probably. I'm determined not to spend the day here with her. I'm going to go home and spend the day with Durwood. I miss him. He misses me too, I'm sure of it, he said he does. I'll take my newly potted shoes home to show him and I'll spend part of the day sans dog. I don't think I understand what you DO with a dog when you're not walking it. This one isn't content to just lie by your side like a faithful rug, she wants to have a conversation and have you doing something to her or with her or something just do something here let me lick you and nudge your hand with my snout and worm my way between you and whatever you're doing so it'll be easier for you to pet me or step on me. Yeah, like that. Right now she's standing looking out the back door like the world's turned against her. She's already gobbled up her food like it's the last she'll ever get, had a few laps of water, and now she's lying behind my chair sighing and harrumphing at the general cruelty of the world (I guess). Looks like Penny doesn't like rain either, she's huddled in her little house. (Will I have to wrestle her for the egg? Better get my umbrella. Wonder if there's one around here somewhere.) We need the rain so they'll just have to get over it. I'm kind of glad it's raining. Rain absolves me from feeling like I need to be doing something on the nice day, mowing or laundry or something productive. Damned work ethic. I'm not even Protestant. I'm glad we're running away after I get off work next Wednesday. We're shucking our responsibilities and hitting the open road, footloose and fancy free. I need to check what the weather guessers have to say about Lexington, KY next weekend so I can plan what to pack. Oh, and remind Durwood to go see about getting a new gas cap that doesn't wreak havoc with his sensor doodads. If you don't get the one he has now cranked down just exactly right, it says you don't have any gas. You know you do, but you glance down and the light's on and the "check engine" light's blazing away and just for an instant you panic. In town it's not so much but on the road it's a pain. With the sensor component I'm guessing a new gas cap isn't cheap, but he can check it out, right? Never hurts to ask, the worst they can say is "no." I think I had all of one paying customer at work yesterday plus one Instructor + kids dropping off gear from teaching a family pool skills, one visitor who hung out for 45 minutes or so (always nice to have someone to talk to), one son & mom looking at masks but buying nothing, and that was it. In 6 hours. It makes for a long day. I websurfed (too much, I need to scale that back, it isn't good for my wrist), emailed Skully some blog construction tips and encouragement, talked to Cookie on the phone, cranked up tunes (okay, it was classical music, free samplers, FREE! I got some jazz ones too) on the Kindle and knitted. I live on the edge. Not. It just feels like it sometimes.
April 14--Girolamo Zenti, Harpsichord.
Like silver pins
notes hold me
while the music
join as the
fruitwood, gilt, and ivory
Hey, housekeeping note, my "itol" email address is no longer good but I can't get Google to replace it with another or do it on my own. I've tried, believe me, I've tried. "Itol" is the address of record for this blog so if this comes to your email address you can't just hit Reply and have it come back to me, you need to reply to bookie1510(at)hotmail(dot)com (replace the parentheticals with the proper symbols) or you can come onto the blog and comment here. Ain't technology grand? Happy Sunday!