I guess it started around 3 AM but I wasn't up for that, nope. Durwood might have been because he says he wakes up and gets up every 2 hours through the night, not to whizz, just awake for 20 minutes. I ask him if his mind's racing or if he has a cramp but he says no, he just wakes up for a bit, goes out and drinks a cup of green tea in front of the TV, then comes back to bed. What's up with that??? Is that what happens when you're in your 70s? If that's the case I'd like to opt out of that part of aging. Anyway, it's supposed to snow until about 10 AM, slack off for a while (enough time to clear the driveway, I'm sure), and then come back for a bit bringing flurries to enliven everyone's Friday night.
OMG, I just saw a cobweb big enough to capture a pterodactyl. Evidently I'll be wielding the dusting wand around the bedroom margins today. And here I was thinking I was keeping on top of basic cleaning around the joint... oh well, now I have something purposeful to do today instead of sitting on my keester knitting or sewing. I suppose that's better.
I had all of one paying customer yesterday. How they keep the doors open I do not know. But I'm glad that they do because in any other job I'd have to do actual work pretty much the whole time I was there and I'm out of practice. Plus my knitting output would suffer.
February 22--Henri Matisse, Icarus. She danced in the stars. The warm night enveloped her and the stars sang the melody that moved her. By day she was unremarkable but she blossomed at night. On clear nights she felt the stellar pull as the sun slid below the horizon and one by one the stars winked to life. The constellations were her partners in the dance. The moon chaperoned, offering her its cool blue light and warm gray shadows to rest in. She let down her hair at sundown. In her flowing robe the color of the midnight sky she stepped out her door to dance in the starlight to music only she could hear.
Oh, I liked that when I was writing it and I like it now. Enjoy your day.