It was a lucky day--for me and for Rose. The weather cooperated and was nice enough so that I could go and walk along the river for one of the last times this season, and Rose's cargo container arrived on time and intact. You might laugh, thinking that I shouldn't be surprised that it came since I'm the one writing this but sometimes the story surprises me. Keeps me entertained anyway when my subconscious is in the driver's seat. Here's a little tidbit for you:
My cargo container did indeed arrive the next day, and it came hard on the heels of Errol Flynn’s early morning cock a doodle doos. I was lying in bed fantasizing about ways to cook Errol so that I could sleep in just one morning a week when I heard a very loud slow diesel coming down the road, getting nearer and nearer. I leaped out of bed, threw on clothes and raced to the entrance of Sydans. Trying to hide my bed head and barely clad form behind the convenient bougainvillea by the door, I craned my neck out to see if it was my container coming and it was. Forgetting that I was badly and scantily dressed I darted out into the road and waved like a crazy woman, whooping and hollering. Then I realized that I was barefoot and I was jumping up and down on gravel. Ouch. I scurried back to my room to brush my teeth and hair, and get myself decently dressed to sign for my goods. By the time the coffee had perked I was brushed and flushed and looked more like a woman who had just bought herself a Caribbean beach Bed and Breakfast than the crazy woman who had been dancing in the street fifteen minutes earlier.
Daily count: 1823 words
Total count: 23,745 words
I will definitely pass 25k this weekend. Woohoo!
--Barbara
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