The autumn sun peeks thru the low clouds and lights up the wild grass in long streaks of yellow light. Kippur the budgie is chirping with joy at the dawn of a new day, and the dogs dance in expectation of breakfast.
OK. James Joyce I am not.
A new day bearing its own evils has dawned.
Really? How evil can a day be when you are retired?
OK. Stock opening.
The household wakes to a hushed autumn morning, the dogs watch MzLinda sleeping, waiting for the merest flutter of an eyelid to signal she is waking. Kippur the budgie lets out a single soft chirp at the light around the edges of the blinds, awaiting their opening so that he can really get the morning chirps and trills going.
And as usual, I grump down to the studio with my coffee cup. Now that I have taken over another bedroom for my studio, the trek is only 40’ instead of 60’ from the coffee pot. Open the blinds to see the weak autumn sunrise light up the fields and copses about me. Open a newsfeed window, an email window, a chat room window, an empty Word® page, a Blogger® page and a facebook® page, and see what has transpired in the world while I was sleeping.
There is very little on the blogs today. My old group has once again been fragmented by the closing of yet another social blogsite. Most of us migrated from Yahoo 360 to multiply® then floundered around for a bit, and are slowly migrating here. Blogster feels so much like Y 360 with its clunky and arcane architecture, but they are promising a better system. Some day.
I have several friends on Blogspot/Blogger, but it is hard to keep up with their postings. We work around that a bit by posting links in facebook, but it is a poor substitute for a social site.
My sister Pamela is still working her way thru the cycles of emotions after the loss of her house. It seems that arson is suspected in the case of the neighbors house, and her house got caught up in the flames. The heartbreaking task of finding salvageable things continues. How does one console that?
And the news … politics. Ho hum. I have already made a decision. Lets vote.
And of course, a true heroine. Malala Yousafzai, the 14 year old Pakistani girl who was shot by some Taliban troglodytes for insulting the Taliban. The brave muhajideen boarded her school bus and shot her twice in the face in the name of Allah. Today the doctors removed a bullet from her spine, though she is still in a comma. I have such a strong desire to visit those brave men of Islam with a true holy war. Jihad? I'll show you jihad! Yeah, I bray like an ass.
So that is the morning here in my corner of paradise and the home of the bottomless pot of coffee.