That's what I saw when I opened the back curtains this morning, pink light. It amazes me how light can be a color and still be see-through. I don't understand it but I suspect it has something to do with refraction, at least I know that's what makes the clouds different colors at sunrise and sunset, I assume the same principle holds true for the colored light. Any scientists out there who can enlighten me? (heh, get it? en-LIGHT-en?) I snapped a picture, scaring a rabbit and confusing a chipmunk in the process, but now that I look at my picture the sky looks orange-pink like always. Trust me, it was pink out there. Not just pink but PINK, not for long, maybe only a few minutes, but definitely PINK. I know there's a saying about "red sky at morning" being a warning to sailors but what about a pink sky? Maybe just a mild caution? Today's Photo a Day theme is "breakfast" and I've gotta say my usual breakfast is a real snore to take a picture of. What's interesting about a brown bowl of brown Cheerios studded with a few prunes and a spotty banana? Not much, that's what, but I'm determined to not set up shots, to take pictures of the world around me if I can, so Cheerios it is. Do you like my placemat? It's the crossword puzzle and it's done. The smaller Mensa 10-minute one propped up on its stand isn't even started and I have to confess it will probably be ignored because the weekend ones are real stinkers. It's too tempting to just flip up the page and look at the answers so I just leave them alone or only fill in the few words I can easily get. I like the weekday ones that I can zoom through. We both do them, Durwood copies them for himself and gives me the "real" ones to do. He usually finishes them too, unless they're full of names. Durwood's not so good remembering names or even paying attention to authors' and actors', etc. names. I am not feeling the NaNoWriMo vibe this year. Makes it hard to plonk myself in front of my desk, but I'll keep on working on it. Here's a bit of yesterday's output:
She got a charge out of the roving bands of tourists dressed in every interpretation of western wear and camping wear imaginable. She especially liked the people whose khakis still bore the fold marks from the package, like they’d left Abercrombie and Fitch or Eddie Bauer and driven directly to Yellowstone National Park. She was also amazed at the number of rental recreational vehicles in the parking lots. No way would she get into one of those behemoths, get onto the highway and drive across country. The ride over the Beartooth Highway in a car was scary enough she could not imagine being on that narrow and twisting road with its sheer drops and falling rocks in a hulking Recreational Vehicle the first time behind the wheel. There had been a little admiring clutch of giggling women around Matt who was standing on the wide sidewalk in front of the new looking stone and timber building. Not all of the women were young either, Finn saw more than one gray haired matron in the crowd. She was kind of reassured to know that when she got to be that old she’d still be interested in young hunks but at the same time she was a little disgusted at their public display of… of… well, out and out silliness. Where did they think they were junior high?
Okay, that's all folks. I'm going to strip the bed, put fresh sheets on it, put fresh towels in the bathroom, then go downstairs and put the sheets and towels in the washer. Procrastinate much, Barbara?