It has been awhile since I wrote one of these little ‘coffee’ posts. In time, chronicling about my day gets tedious since I don’t do great and wondrous things anymore. I have retired from rescuing distressed damsels and refocused on rehabilitating the poor, much maligned dragon. We have too many rescued damsels, but no one cares a fig about the abused dragon.
A long time of navel gazing has led me to believe that I didn’t have the purest of motives in rescuing the damsels anyway, and the damsels promptly went off to find a new dragon to capture them, leaving both the dragon and I in a very befuddled state.
My winter doldrums have arrived on schedule, but they don’t seem to be as severe as they were in the past few years. I am still rising with the sun, and retiring for the night soon after it sets. But my voracious appetite for factoids reveals that sleeping is good for old men. I just wish the transformation had happened earlier in my life. As Willie Nelson sang it: “The night life ain’t no good life, but it’s my life”. As miserable as it often was, though, I still recall living while the rest of the world slept fondly. I don’t know what it is about the darkness that calls so seductively to me and envelopes me in its murky anonymity.
Yeah. I admit it. I loved the sleeze.
One band of winter rains has come and gone, and another is soon to come. I am glad to see them, though I wish we had a hard freeze before their arrival. The ground seems to stay moist longer after one. This morning dawned chillily in the low 40’s, but bright and sunshiny. It will climb into the mid 70’s later in the day, then cool to the 60’s at night. Yeah. The horror of winter. They still talk of the terrible snow storm of 1938 here, when they got 24” of snow. It shut things down for two days before it all melted off.
And I see that I have my 250+ words, and can close this little missive off.