Wednesday Blah... Wind Chimes and Hugo

This morning, the alarm went off and i was still asleep. It's cold here and the weather has dropped two degrees, the light is low around the house, so even in the morning, there's little movement.

I juxtapose my responsibility with my anxiety this morning. There is so much to do. My landlord rolls up outside in his white SUV. White pants. White T-shirt. Black Coat. Black Hat. White Moustache.

I've already paid my rent, or at least my half, so i don't flinch, but i can hear his voice outside--loud and angry. My dog is asleep on his pillow. He moves slightly, and I want to go back to sleep as well. Poor Deano.

Two emails go out. One text. The oil is checked. I shave my neck. Old razor. Richard Hugo looks up. His book is still only barely cracked.



Stephen would be upset. I had hoped to finish the entire Hugo book by now. It's in my pile, which really isn't one pile, but rather piles. The sounds of Hollie's windchimes cling and cling outside my door driven by a clutchy cold wind are starting to slow.



We live near the road that is the gateway to plano. Cars zoom nearby passing only a boat dealership and a cut rate pawnshop, before hitting the sanitized, revitalized downtown and its tram. Grrrrr. Kelly's Eastside makes a great burger/briskit sandwhich, and fries. Hugo would have loved that. Great Woodchuck Ale. Lived hear two years, but i don't follow Plano Pawnshop on Facebook. It's not my style.

Last Week was filled with good things. Nivea shaving supplies. Pajama pants. Vodka sauce pasta. A lot to do. Last night, we had tacos, and i used puppets to tell a story to my daughter to be. She kissed my cheek she laughed so hard. Top Chef on the DVR plays in the background. It's still too early.

More soon.

James