Mono Monday. : : Low Light

Somebody once told me that black dogs are almost always the last to be chosen because they are so difficult to photograph. It's true, and especially here when the light is anything but low until the sun goes down. Ozzie and John are both sporting white beards right now and I think Ozzie definitely has the right idea about how to get through 'these difficult times'*. For a 14 year old, 90 pound Labrador, it would be the same way he does any other time. But I can relate. It seems the longer this goes on, the less motivated I feel to do anything....

Our governor, a capable man, an opportunistic politician, and someone who loves the sound of his own voice, gave his usual noon press conference today, and I had my usual lunch at that time so I didn't have to listen. However, he was still going strong  when I returned to my quilting labors which require some sort of audible entertainment.background noise

Although he said he was going to be loosening some restrictions, it took him 19 minutes to come to the point and even then, he mostly hinted at things that 'might' happen later in the week. He also said he was leaving the final decisions to his state health officer and the 62 different health departments in the state. The natives are getting restless. I think he's going to have his hands full getting people in some parts of the state to keep cooperating. Theories abound for how long it will take to get 'back to normal'**
At least he didn't use the word 'space' three times in every sentence when he really means 'sector', or 'category' or even 'precinct'. 

Dan and Tobi finally made it for 'happy hour' last night. We put forth the plan because somehow we had to develop a plan for getting eggs. We suggested wine, they said they'd bring their own wine and their own glasses. Then the bees swarmed. On Saturday it was raining. On Sunday the the weather was perfect and Dan was baking bread. They wondered if we would be willing to taste three different sourdough starters. 

They arrived with three loaves of bread, wrapped in cloth, wine, glasses, and olive oil. With the aid of labeled paper plates and lashings of red wine we all agreed that we liked the same one Dan liked best. But really, they were all delicious, and he left one loaf with us. 

They did forget the eggs....

*an overworked phrase
**a fairly meaningless phrase since I'm not sure anyone even knows how to define 'normal' anymore. I, for one, have always felt that there is no such thing....