Today ... today, no grand stories. Projected wind speed made for a day off rowing, but I'll have to be brave tomorrow, see how it goes. A little element battling strengthens character, right?
As I write, John Lee Hooker has awakened Sucio from his happy closet slumber (he nests on my fleece scarf; I'm gonna be bummed in the near future when I'll need it to keep warm, but I don't have the heart to take it away from him) to come trotting out for a little headbutting, purring and drooling (the couch is his safe zone; everywhere else is pretty darn scary). If only we were all so open with our emotions and needs, right?
And now, I must give in to the calling to go buy one of those giant post-it pads at Staples and begin to organize my existence. Plus, Sucio is leaving drool spots on the couch. And licking my hand.
Today also marked a return to lists. I just love lists. Aren't they grand? Somehow, they make everything in life feel containable, doable, even if that proves to be illusory and fleeting. And, to set the stage for the master plan of all master plans, the granddaddy of all lists, I have indeed obtained a giant wall-hanging pad of mega post-its. It's very exciting. I'm pretty sure it holds the key to solving all life's mysteries. You just wait. Of course, I might not be able to share. You might have to go get your own giant post-it pad to figure it out....