Tuesday dawns a pleasant 77°, but we have moved into a moderate drought as summer clips on by. But when the droughts on, I mow once to keep the fuel down in case of a wildfire, and let the land rest while I sit under the air-conditioner and listen to music. I prefer classical music when I can’t have silence, but it is a rare treat now that da Budgie has heard fiddles and banjo’s together. I exist only to start the music in the morning.
Today Snooks works at the local food bank, which means yours truly prepares dinner. Today we eat southern. Chicken fried steak, collard greens, mashed spuds, and peach cobbler. Sans banjos and fiddles, however.
And so the morning unfolds. I have the feeling that this will be a two-pot morning. Lots to ponder, and many chores to ignore.