Rusty's Armory

… But Joy Cometh in the Morning.

Posted on January 26, 2021

Well, the fog and rains moved on, and Tuesday morning dawns bright and sunshiny.  The forecasts report a high of 65° this afternoon with no wind.  A good day to prowl the yard and try to fix a couple of minor annoyances on Bucephalus, my aging Dodge Grand Caravan. So far the writing continues, with chirpy reflections in the morning scribbling, and dark, thunderous pieces in the evening.

Don’t know why it is that the time of day effects my thinking so much.  Evening is time to consider my frail mortality, and the frailty of all mankind in general.  The pieces sort of scare me, but I have made my peace with them and will post them as they are.  I have deleted such posts in the past.  I am not a fan of darkness and try to not hang out there.  But maybe it is time to give the dark thoughts free reign.

But this is a morning coffee post, so I shan’t be about malevolent spirits, sinister plots, and spiritual wickedness abounding.

The rains have made the wildflowers green up, but they haven’t bloomed as of yet, so there is an even green out over the fields that looks like finely mown grass on a golf course.  The county has its ditch mowers out early this year, and they offloaded the mower from a truck, and left the truck out on the road to spoil my view of rolling green fields.  But that is OK.  I want to turn my attention to the world on the other side of the digital screen anyway, sip the morning coffee, and muse on life and love this sunshiny morning.

Another animal lover sent Annie-Annie a bottle of CBD oil, and she seems to be responding to it. That is good. I would like to give her the best of living until the disease finally claims her.  I am a skeptic when it comes to patent medicines, and CBD seems to be one of those miracle cures that fixes everything.  But the giver owns the CBD company and gifted me with it, and offered more if it runs out.  Some people you just love at first sight, and Sanchia is one of them.  She works tirelessly for abandoned animals who have no voice of their own, and asks nothing in return.

Kippur da Budgie is happily shrieking, and one of the blessings of hearing loss is that it attenuates her joy, but still lets you share in it.  I need to get my hearing aids to the clinic for repairs, but I am sort of enjoying the silence.  My family is about to kill me, though.  They are getting tired of me saying ‘huh?’ …

Another voice from the past showed up on my blog this morning.  It is always good to hear that people are still around, and that they sometimes find my ruminations entertaining, and sometimes even cathartic. My mind goes often to those people, and I mourn the loss of a social platform where we all met.

So the day goes.  A strengthening winter sun climbs 10° deosil, the cup needs refilling, and the day needs to be observed.

Good morning!