Because of uncontrollable circumstances (boring, not resolved but worked around), bread and hot sauce day was yesterday, Sunday, instead of Friday. There was a whole different feel to life on the street, a feeling that happens in a lot of places on a Sunday, but I only live here. It's almost like the very air is different, more serene, even if it is blowing like stink out - which it wasn't, much (the umbrella is my wind gauge; if it doesn't blow over or away, it's not real windy out. Don't try this at home, leave it to the highly educated in wind specialists. Thank you).
So there I was, glad the morning rain moved away, with a book that was only half interesting, a cat who was wondering what I was doing, and all around me, hummingbirds, banana quits, lizards, bougainvillea blooms on steroids. Instead of in bed/getting ready for Sunday Funday at Dakity/thinking of doing other things that need doing but get put off because it is Sunday.
Because we've had a lot of rain lately, sunlight seemed more major, light seems brighter.
|I love his little claws and sassy 'do|
|This reminds me of a Chinese calendar, those long cloth kinds with mountains and flowers on them|
Late in the afternoon, Bonilla came by to do some work on the dinghy. By then, it was actually hot out, but a few more things got done, to make way for more things that need to get done. It's happening!
Have a mountains in the mist Monday. Do something meandering (even if it is just in your head).