2994

I woke about 6:30 this morning, bladder full. I slipped into the bathroom and then out to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The full moon was shining bright, low in the western sky. I tried to go back to sleep. My wife was gently snoring in her favorite position; her back to me.

I looked at the clock. It was a little after seven.  There was just enough light from the rising sun to see as I pulled on yesterday's Nike T-shirt and some jeans. I went into the bathroom and did my poke-the-finger thing. The readings were acceptable this morning. I padded to the kitchen.  The old coffee from yesterday was still in the filter. I threw it away and began the coffee making ritual. While it brewed I slipped on my shoes and went outside to get the paper.

The moon was almost covered by some thin clouds. The air was warm for a February morning. I offered a silent prayer of thanks for the blessings God has given me and headed inside. The paper was filled with local nothing. The local boys lost a basketball game, a local factory announced its' closing. More unemployment. Obamanomics in play once again. I poured a cup of coffee and filled a bowl with Lucky Charms. I know. Breakfast and the morning paper done, I refilled my coffee cup and dropped into my office chair.

The laptop hummed to life. A quick click on the "e" desktop icon, a tap on the drop down menu brought me here -- post 2994.

Next month I will have been at this for six years, if my often-faulty math is correct. We have become comfortable friends, you and I. You know my stories, understand my dry sense of humor. The blog world changes.  Old bloggers are gone and done, new ones come along.  The same with readers. Some of you have stopped by to share my life for years, some found me today, by accident or purpose.

I am in a weird reflective mood today. We are going to a surprise party this evening.  An old college buddy turns fifty.  I have not seen him for a few years and I am excited to go. The wife is going because she knows I want to. She could take it or leave it.  An evening listening to us reliving past lives and watching me drink beer is not on her bucket list, I am sure. The old stories are not so amusing to her anymore, she has heard them far too often, and was part of most of them as they happened. She is not too interested in the past. I spend a lot of time there, in my mind, in this blog, in the books I read, the music I play.

There will be a lot of teasing about old farts tonight I am sure.  I will join right in, since accident of birth leaves me 48 --  for another month -- as some of my closest friends turn fifty. Don't think for a minute I won't point that out.

There you have my Saturday; the morning routine and the evening plans. Black ink on a white background. The curtains to a window on my life pulled back a fraction to let you see in. You peek.  Are you hoping to see me dancing naked wearing a Groucho nose and clown shoes? Do you hope to catch me crying at the ending of Breakfast at Tiffany's? If you want good writing and quality entertainment you are shopping at the wrong store. Whatever your reasons for lurking outside my blogging widow, I thank you.

I hope your Saturday turns out as nice as the one I have planned.