Mindless musings

We are babysitting for the granddaughter this weekend. It is amazing how quickly life's problems -- bills, health, money, work -- disappear when she smiles at me. I was sitting on the patio last night sipping a beer and smoking a cigar as the setting sun painted a few high clouds in pinks and reds and orange. Smoke hung above me in a faint cloud while the little fountain gurgled nearby. The big willow shadowed the back yard with regal flair. I am indeed blessed.

I am sitting in my office recliner this morning typing away at this entry. In the opposite corner, Charlie, my two-foot tall wooden cigar store Indian, stares at me with a stern expression, dreaming and straining with every wooden fibre to chop me to pieces with his little wooden tomahawk. Or perhaps he is naught but a piece of old tree cut and carved and painted for my artistic amusement.

A fake potted plant sits atop my desk, flanked on either side by my humidor and a model of the HMS Victory in full sail. The walls are hung with pictures of Johnny Cash, Wrigley Field, my true lamb skin college diploma, and Lucas Oil Stadium. Three stoneware beer mugs from Germany sit atop the computer cabinet next to the twin of the fake plant from my desk and one of those electronic picture frames loaded with pictures from our trip to Hawaii but turned off.

It is Saturday morning. The coffee is nearly gone. The day is just starting.