I am convinced I need a wooden cigar store Indian for my office. It does not have to be 5 or 6 foot tall; a small one will do. Nor does it need to be an original. A replica will suffice. Said Indian may not go with my decor, but the model of the HMS Victory does not exactly duplicate the theme of Cubs and Colts pictures that adorn the walls, so what the heck.
It looks like the rain is tapering off on this December Saturday. Music is playing softly in the background as I hunt and peck on the keyboard. I frequently pause and look out the window. The big willow is waving bare branches in the breeze. The old bench made of willow sticks and the small tree next to it are covered in Christmas lights that glow softly in the dim early morning light.
My coffee is just above lukewarm and needs refilled. The laptop hums in tune with the music. It occurs to me I should not have to struggle to fill this space, I blog so little these days. But here we are. I am certain the few dozen of you who bother to stop by are sadly disappointed these days. I hope to resume my usual routine in January when my training is complete and my seven-day-a-week work schedule changes I am quitting the part-time gig in a few weeks. Until that time these pathetic efforts will have to do.
I hope you have a great Saturday.
3 comments:
my son used to sell those Indians (and elephants, butlers, tables, etc.) on street corners on the weekends, when he knew a friend whose dad was an importer.
You are never a disappointment.
Aren't "old" Esther Williams movies forever fresh and new?
Just asking.
Post a Comment