Whine me. What’s wrong with this picture? Not that picture. This one. Finger pointing down.
Yesterday, it was 75 degrees fahren. The windows were thrown open. I could hear birdsong. I was clipping lilac. I was wearing a tee and some cropped pants. I could see my summer-ready toes, sporting No Autographs, Please by OPI. It was sunshine, lollipops and rainbows…
Today, it’s a whopping 49 degrees fahren. 49!! I struggled out of bed and slammed the windows shut. Scrambled into sweatpants and flannel shirt. Sniffed a little when I had to cover up the summer-ready toes with thick socks and ugly shoes.
My best bud is lazing around a resort in North — or South — Carolina this week. Who cares. She’s in the Carolinas. Does it really matter?
While I was on the other side of the gate, Miss Gracie ripped one of my new violas out of the ground and flung it to the four corners of the backyard, then proceeded to dig a sizable hole next to a just-leafing rose bush. I think she may be watching reruns of Prison Break when I’m in the office with the Do Not Disturb sign on the door.
I know. You’re waiting to hear me say that the cat ate my manuscript, right?
Raise your hand, if you want to head south for sand and sun and water…and little drinks with, or without, umbrellas. Go ahead. Do it now. Just put Raise Your Hand or Sand, Sun and Water in the comments section. If you have a specific destination in mind, name it — claim it.
My work here is done. Back to the manuscript the cat didn’t eat. Maybe a little Jimmy Buffett in the background. Yeah. I say Fiji!