I can’t remember what the hell I was gonna write about today, but I had a thing. It’s hangin around my head, silently taunting me now. Likely not available to me because I failed to cultivate sleep last night. I did, however, do better than The Mister, because in a rare turn of events, it was I who suggested we go to bed.
That thing I was gonna write about will come back, prolly when I’m tryin to remember what kid goes where when, or on my way to pee at 7am, or some other truly inopportune time. So I just think I’ll tell you some random stuff.
This weekend was a fine one.
I painted my toenails a deep wine color.
I started the seventh season of The Walking Dead.
I made two lasagnas and one is in the freezer for another day.
A deer walked down our street. Oh hey! That’s the thing I was gonna write about. See, that’s why it’s important to sit down and write.
Our old neighbor Jim — I mean old in two ways, one, he was in his late nineties and every time I spoke to him he said God had given him another day, so he reckoned he’d take it, and also, old neighbor cause he’s no longer our neighbor cause God stopped giving him days. Anyway, Our old neighbor Jim had lived here since the 50s and told us the back forty usta get deer now and again, but it’d been years since he’d seen any.
But yesterday, The Mister just happened to see a deer walking down our street.
I like venison as much as anyone, but when ya live in the city and you see a deer walkin down the street, you do not think, “DINNER!” You think “OOH!” and also, you think of Jim and wish he’d seen this deer.
The deer trotted back and forth for a bit and then it leapt off into the back forty. It was MAJESTIC.
We all attempted to photograph the deer. The Mister got the best shot.
Although it’s a sad sorta day, calendar-wise, it’s been a better Monday than most.
I have iced coffee. I got freaky and tried the Columbian instead of the French Roast, and while I do not prefer the Columbian brewed hot, it makes a good cold coffee.
I took three girls to two schools and not a single parent in the carlines pissed me off. It was remarkably smooth. When I returned home, I had a text from my mother; she’d returned to her home and found it in good enough condition to stay.
Gonna be hard to bring me down after such a great start!
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a date with toasted pbj and a tall glass of milk.
I hope your Monday makes for pleasant meanderings.