Walking into the wind today I felt all wide-eyed and chiseled but when I turned around my face got all pointy in front of me and it started whistling

Such a gorgeous day. Wind warning is in effect but one fart joke per blog is enough so it’s a bit of a waste except for the thing the wind does over the lake in the early morning with a couple of blasts of sun where there are holes in the tumultuousness and there’s a now-you-see-me now-you-don’t glow on the water and it sort of lends you something beautiful and comfortable.

You get a peaceful easy feeling just like the eagles

Don’t click that link if you have anything to do because it just takes all the fight right outta you as well as some funny ideas and also I am not sure if my rotten character, Grace Poole, will be able to keep her edge today so maybe I better have another coffee and look at all the mess in the kitchen and the empty fridge and maybe even think about work before I get back to her or she might just repent or confess or something and then where would I be. Without a villain, that’s where.

Just made another coffee a[n]d 747 (cat on keyboard)

When I put my pants on this morning, I was barefoot in the dark kitchen – TMI I know – waiting for the coffee to finish dripping and it’s always a sort of yoga exercise trying to figure out if they’re inside out or backwards or even upside-down and then stepping into the too long and too stretchy legs with their snappy elastic is not unlike donning a wet-suit but I kinda dig it because when I get it right it’s very satisfying and I snap my waistband at Daisy who just stands there rolling her eyes, the grump.

Anyway for the entire walk/run/trot/climb I was plagued by little pieces of floor dirt that had come off the bottom of my feet and had planted themselves between my legs and my vacuum-pants and were itching and annoying and I had to periodically put my hands down my pants sometimes all the way to my knees to locate a fucking crumb or pepper flake or shrivelled up flotsam or even jetsum.

End of April already but who’s counting, really? I mean before you know it we’ll be sweaty and sleeveless and dying for a swim. OH YEAH! Just remembered the other sort of funny thing which was going to be the title of this blog but it’s the anti-title instead: