Crack O'Dawn

This is getting old and has to stop.  Porter was lying quietly in her bed and I woke up.  She wasn't pacing by the bed, whining.  Nope, just lying there.  Does this mean I'll be waking up at 6 o'clock for no apparent reason now?  Is this the stage I'm at?  Gah!  I don't understand dogs.  The other night when I was downstairs she was upstairs munching on a sliver of soap that someone (not me) had left on the edge of the tub.  Then in the morning while I was upstairs getting ready for work she was downstairs eating, or rather shredding a napkin.  I.  Don't.  Understand.  And it's chicken feeding and watering day.  This is my 6th morning here and I've collected all of 1 egg.  One.  Is she depressed?  On strike?  I suspect that she laid one Wednesday and Thursday mornings and disposed of them herself but since then only one has appeared.  Unless she's hoarding them and there isn't anyplace in there where she could hide them.  This is why I don't have pets.  I don't get them.  People are bad enough and you can ask them questions, animals are just, well, animals.  Dumb animals.  Dumb as in mute, not dumb as in stupid.  Well, not all of them anyway. (Penny doesn't seem very bright.)  We're off to see DD & DIL2 later this week and I can not wait to see them and spend time with them, then once we're home maybe my life will settle back down into its comfy rut and I can gather the scattered tatters of my wits and see if I can't knit or sew them back together.  Except of course that there's a beer & food pairing dinner on the 25th and on the 28th the Tae Kwon Do women are reuning (what?  it was in a Mensa crossword puzzle last week.) and there's the Barbershoppers concert that night.  Okay, after that.  I'm looking forward to the long drive to Lexington.  Time in the car with Durwood's always good.  We talk or not, point out random things along the way, talk.  Like that.  He loves to drive and I'm restricted to only a couple things to do, like knit (mindless stuff, nothing complex) or listen to an audiobook but that seems rude to Durwood.  And Porter's eating a stick again.  Why do dogs do that?  She has plenty of food but she has a mania for tearing things up, landscape fabric is high on her list, my plastic shoes are good too, but the sticks that fall off the backyard trees are her faves.  She also likes to "trim" the hedges along the fence.  She gets under them and chomps off the low branches. ???? Nuts.  No egg again today.  *shrug*  Haven't got a clue about that.  Looks like it's about to pucker up and rain again.  S'okay by me.

April 15--Girolamo Zenti, Harpsichord.

Touch a key
Note quivers in air
Hammer a taut wire
Percussion of sound
wave on eardrum
Cause     Effect
Sound of music
                --bam
~~~~~~
 When I was writing last night (or trying to) the wind was blowing like crazy, this next one came from that.
~~~~~~
Roaring wind
sliced by trees
flings itself
through the neighborhood
stirring the darkness
              --bam
~~~~~~
And that's that.  It's time to munch on Cheerios, take a shower, dress, pack, and think about going to work.  Ooh, it's payday.  That's a good thing.  Sayonara.
--Barbara