Monday, February 23, 2015

Sailor Take Warning

Remember that old poem? Well, no sailors here, at least not in this part of the Sonoran Desert, and for that matter, the sky wasn't really particularly red. Deep salmon/orange, rather. Lovely for silhouetting palm trees in the back lighting. But we are expecting rain. Perhaps a whole quarter inch, though they say it'll be scattered. Clouds from the west are darkening, and until a couple minutes ago not interfering with some lovely sunshine.

Exciting, isn't it?

The local news crews have relocated for the morning to Flagstaff to show us Phoenecians some of that white stuff newly fallen up there. Bring skis! Snowboards! Good insurance policies!

Down here, rain prep involves moving a couple of the wicker chairs on the patio out from the wall and away from the leak in the roof which otherwise would soak the seat cushions. We also set a bucket or two under the drip line at the edge of the roof to keep us lazy enough to not have to water the dogs three times a day. They can dip their snouts on their way in/out of the back yard.

Rain this time of the year also means switching from short sleeves to long, and today deciding mid afternoon whether it will be over in time for the 3:00 concert at the local outdoor venue. We geezers don't like sitting out under the rain even if it's down to light drizzle by that time, especially since parking is at a premium and we scooter down instead of driving. It's almost a whole mile!

Each way!

What does it say about a life when this is the excitement of the day?

It's not the only excitement today. I'm expecting rock slabs in the mail. I need to leave in about 20 minutes to find the other branch of my new doctor's office for my protime check. And for the record, yes, spell-check hates that word! Didn't I really mean protein? No? Maybe they could convince me? Slip it in anyway? Once back, Steve and I are running a couple errands involving his bank and pharmacy. After supper, Steve has his 500 club for a few hours of cards, and I get to do whatever the heck I feel like.

I could read. Watch TV. Wire wrap if I can only figure out just how I want to try making a peace symbol inside the wires holding the stone in place. (I fall asleep many nights plotting how many wires, from where to where, how they join, which are front and which back....) Need I say that not one piece of wire has been cut yet? I could super glue some stone fault lines to stabilize them before more cutting and grinding takes place, now that the special ultra thin stuff has arrived that will run down into the cracks.

I could take a nap. Have my measured serving of ice cream. Hunt for Ellie's rabies certificate so that I can schedule her increasingly-needed grooming since it's time for the pro's touch instead of the home clipper botch-up. Somebody else can figure out how to get her to hold still long enough to get within 6 inches of her toes. And eyebrows. When I show up, I'll be the hero rescuing her from all that terribleness. And loving her because she'll smell so-o-o-o much better.

I could print out forms to do my taxes. Print out the 8 pages of amortization schedule before that email disappears into the ether. Print out the amended book list from organizing the library. Move rocks around in the yard - just the little ones, not the 60 pounders. Those were left by the previous owners, and treasures are hiding there. Two days ago I found a great piece for slabbing that's full of fossils.

I could spend the whole time deciding what I wanted to do out of all those choices and more, yet-to-be-thought-of ones, without actually doing any of them.

Hey! After all, it is my retirement!

What? Was that a raindrop?

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