Patterns

I have left the dogs and the endless football games to OilMan. It is still raining and the small place is crowded on Saturday. Standing in a corner looking at the floor, large portions of which are covered today with non-skid mats, I'm thinking that maybe it's not the Aztek Mochas that make me dizzy....

It rained all night. Not a satisfying gully washer of a rain that pounds on the roof and blows against the windows, scattering the last of the oak leaves to form little dams in the drainage ditches, but a desultory sort of mist...dispiriting rather than satisfying. The big dogs show little inclination to go outside. Ozzie won't leave the porch then pauses at the door wondering if he wants to come back in.Blake goes out just long enough to get himself muddy, while Rudy zips out between my legs and vanishes....

I woke up in the middle of the night in the Stygian darkness of the bedroom and noticed...when I stood up...light under the door to the hall. Putting Blake in his kennel in the living room, settling Rudy in our bed, getting into the bed before Ozzie decides to join us there...don't ask why we put up with this...there are reasons...all this takes time and effort and I must have forgotten to turn out the light. When I opened the door, Blake bounded in, tail wagging, toy in mouth. He can't tell time....

Dana rang this morning from the Cincinnati airport...her flight was overbooked...they
were looking for volunteers to give up their seats...when did air travel become a lottery? She took $500 to fly home tomorrow with the rest of her family...although not on the same flight.

I have mopped the floor...an exercise in futility...and cleaned the guest bathroom. We're having guests of the human variety tonight. They have been warned....

Maybe it's not the floor that makes me dizzy either....

A famous columnist for the San Francisco Chronicle called his brand of social commentary 'three dot journalism' for the dots he inserted between items. Unlike Herb Caen, I'm just becoming incapable of finishing a thought. Suitable, perhaps for a daily journal. The dots never seem to become connected...