Looking For My Mojo

bad habits I woke up this morning to the sound of something in the — Oops, I think that line has been taken.  Anyway, the wind was howling around the building and I had no incentive to crawl out of my nest.  So I just sorta bundled up a bit more and curled down into a more comfortable position, and was almost asleep again when I got the call — the one from nature you always get just at that crucial moment when you wonder whether to answer or just say “what the heck” and stay put.  Eventually it became a race between answering or changing clothes, so I answered in time to save my clothes from the needed change.

I decided since I was up at the moment I might as well get breakfast over with, so I pulled one of my sourdough waffles out of the fridge.  I make loads of them last summer and froze them for when I wanted them later and was too lazy to make them later.  I’ve used most of ’em up since breaking my shoulder.  But this morning I wanted one with some watermelon syrup on it.  And I have lots of watermelon syrup that I made and  canned last summer, with a beautiful, summer taste to it.  Tasted pretty good.

Now, several hours later, I’m trying to get the old mojo working again to make that chicken pot pie, but just not hungry enough to be driven.  Just want to crawl back in the nest and curl up again and listen to the wind.  It has a wild sound that I especially love hearing at night, but I also love it during the day.  Like being on the moors in Scotland, with the driving rain pounding around you and the everlasting wind singing a wild song that gets the blood moving through the veins.   Who needs food when you can listen to that?  Of course, I’ve never been to Scotland, just read books, but do have a smidgin of the Highland blood mixing with the Irish and German singing through my veins.  Just don’t try to give me Haggis.

Therapy was here so I was missing for a few minutes.  Anybody notice?  Getting stronger.  That’s all that matters to me.  Plus, we always have fun conversations.  It’s always good when you don’t have to deal with a “Helga” in therapy, but have really nice, friendly people who can match your stories with funny ones of their own.

My shower helper was here too, so I had my second one for the day.  Didn’t have the heart to tell her I had already taken one.  She’s a lot of fun, and I enjoy having her around, but have to admit I’m already running out of clean clothes.

Wouldn’t be so bad, except my cleaning lady was here yesterday, and she picked the dirty clothes up from the floor, and instead of putting them in the dirty clothes basket, piled them in with the clean clothes.  Soooo, I had to go thru all the clean clothes, trying to remember which ones were in the dirty clothes pile, so I could put them back in thy basket I had just emptied.  Ya know, I don’t know what I would do without her, but when she pulls stunts like that I seriously think I would like to try.  I’m joking, of course.  She is a Christmas gift from my kids, and usually very helpful, but does have a habit of hiding things from me.  Or putting them out of reach.

I think naptime has struck again.  Back to the nest for more serious bundling.  When I crawl out again I’ll make the pot pie, or maybe a stew.  I’ll sleep on it for a while.

A.

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