Thursday, June 24, 2010
The Early Bird May Take A Pre-Lunch Nap
So I got up this morning BEFORE SEVEN A.M. because I wanted to walk before yoga. Yeah, I know. I deserve a medal. I do!
And I walked before eight for once and still, my hair is soaking wet but at least I'm not the color of George Bush's scarlet soul. Or is his soul black? Whatever. I'm just a bit ruddy.
And then I called the yoga teacher to make sure we're having class because our class consists of two people and I know that one of them is out of town. I got her answering machine and I'm not driving down the road unless I hear back from her and she has two minutes and then I'm going to get on with my day.
I should have called her last night but I got busy with blackberries and snapper and trying to watch The D-List which hey! Is not on Wednesday nights but on Tuesdays and so I missed the redheaded bitch's show but since it's on Bravo they'll be rerunning it constantly anyway.
Time's up! No yoga today. This means I should get to the myriad of things which I should get done before Owen gets here at one-thirty. I mean MYRIAD! I won't bore you with the details but suffice it to say that some of them require PHONE CALLS. And some of them are easy, like taking the trash and doing laundry.
I just went out to find something lovely to take a picture of but I have taken a picture of everything in this yard about a thousand times so all you get is that picture of the phlox. My yard is pretty much taken up in phlox right now which is not a bad thing. I wish I'd had my camera on my walk because all the spiders' webs in the grass had spangly dew on them which shone in the morning light like diamond necklaces. Big webs and small. It was a marvel. You'll have to take my word for that.
I could take a picture of the two mama banana spiders which have built webs on my side porch but I think I'll save that for another day.
And I could talk about the fact that oil is washing up on the sweet sugar sands of Pensacola Beach but I just can't do that. It's happening. It's real. There is nothing in this world I can do about it except hang my head in shame at being part of the human race.
And on that cheerful note, I believe I'll go take the trash. And recycle. And feel as if I am on a futile and stupid errand when I throw the paper and cardboard and aluminum and glass and plastic in their proper containers. The new guy who works at the trash depot is very good at his job and keeps the place tidy and is polite as hell. He does have a sticker on his truck that says, "Marriage equals One Man, One Woman," but he doesn't discuss politics with me and I respect him for doing a hot, stinky, poorly paid job in a way which demonstrates that he takes his work seriously and goes above and beyond what is required and let it go at that.
And there you have it- another day in Lloyd, Florida. It's hot, it's hip, it's happenin'.