Bits

Well then. A couple things swimming in my head today.

Paul peeked at my post, Satisfaction, and came up and handed me a battery. My mouse is back in action. He's so smart. By the way, he has started a blog of his own - "60 MPH Meals & Rear View Mirror Sunsets". He is a very good writer and I know I'm going to enjoy his written thoughts.

I'm wondering if X will hear from her father today.

My right leg aches. Very badly. Arthritis?

Paul is at the dump. I'm hanging towels and such. When our tasks are finished, we'll take a light lunch and head for the forest. I keep forgetting today is Saturday. I think Paul should go to the tractor store and pick up some flourecent orange hats for our hike. It is hunting season. Last Sunday we just wore our bright colors even though the sign warns, as one enters the forest, that it is hunting season and regulations require so many square feet of flourecent orange attire. Paul mentioned that someone told him that nobody has ever gotten shot on a Sunday, at least in Rhode Island, by accident. And then I remember that today is Saturday. "Paul?" I say "Do you think we should maybe go tomorrow and not tempt fate? or if we go today, do you think we should pick up something flourecent orange beforehand?". Now Paul is headed for the tractor store down the road 10 miles. Yay Paul.

I washed the dogs yesterday. They smell so good. Walking air fresheners.

About 30 minutes ago I decided I wanted to be dressed. I was a little tired of my bathrobe. I headed towards the bedroom to change. Forgetting that I didn't put the clothes away yesterday after I washed and folded them, I noticed that the bed was made. (gotta leap with me a little here - I transfer the folded clothes from the basket onto the bed, then into drawers or closets). Who made the bed? Couldn't be Nikko or Rocko, they are pretty lazy and besides, they don't have opposible thumbs. Must be Paul. I put the clothes from the basket onto the bed and had to use the bathroom. While in the bathroom, I decided to sweep the floor, having put the rug in the washing machine. I went around the corner and got the dust mop and swept the floor, along with the hall floor. While sweeping around the vent that Paul had put in the floor a couple weeks ago, it occured to me that if push ever comes to shove and I couldn't find my dust pan, or was in a hurry, I could sweep the dirt throught into the vent.

Still in my bathrobe. When I had swept up the dirt, emptied the dustpan into the garbage, and put everything away, I felt the need for a cigarette break. No cigarettes in my bathrobe pocket. Where did I put them? Excercising my sub cranium, I wandered back to where I had the last smoke - front or back? Can't remember, so I look in the bedroom. Wait! I forgot to put the clothes away and get dressed! That's what I was doing. So I put the clothes away except for what I was going to put on. Rocko watched warily, holding a lovey in his mouth for protection, from on top of the bed. (That's how I tricked him into his bath yesterday). I got dressed, found my cigarettes on my dresser, refilled my coffee cup and headed out to the deck for a smoke.

While I was out there I thought of something really fun to write. But for the life of me I can't pull it out of the dark shadows of what passes for my memory.

Give me a minute - I'll be right back.

It didn't work. I can't remember. Sometimes I wonder why my neck works so hard carrying this useless head around.

Peace