Foghorns at 1:30 am. Some alarm going off nearby at 3:30 am. My shoulder spasming at 5:30 am. Sometime you just have to give up on sleep. It was nice to spend a little time with Mark this morning though and to share some of the steel cut oats he had cooked up. I ate those a couple hours ago and my stomach is growling like I haven’t eaten anything. I thought oats were supposed to be one of those stick to your ribs kind of foods. I don’t have a clue what I’ll eat. So I’ll procrastinate.
It’s still pretty foggy outside, and cold. I’m covered up with a blanket, wearing a big fluffy sweater and two cats cuddling close. Even so I can’t help but dream of spring and summer and warmer times. Which makes me think of this weeks Magpie writing prompt:
All I really have to say about this is:
Winter, exit that-a-way – and pronto!
OK, maybe I could say more…
Winter wonderland was lovely and glistening when it was fresh and new but now it has lingered too long. The skies stay gray, the air chill and I’m ready, ready for it to go away. To early yet, I suppose, but my hands and my feet and my toes, they dream of being warm again and free and naked – no gloves or socks or closed toed shoes to hinder their free-spirit style. Tevas and flip flops they cry, and bare and free to run in warm sand and wade in cool water on hot days. My shoulders and cleavage dream of low plunging tank tops and halter tops in fun summery colors exposed to a light breeze across sun kissed skin. My legs want to be left bare, nothing hindering them from wading deep in tide pools and up creeks and into summer warmed lakes for swims. My body yearns for bikini time and watery kisses as the summer swallows swoop low over the lake and summer moons rise as summer suns set. And if it were to tell its deepest secrets, what it desires most, well it would remind me of the freedom of being four and having no reason for clothes of any kind at all.