Sleeping In

 This is my late little companion, Max, I think.  He passed away about six years ago, and I still miss him, even though this picture shows him in his favorite position, sleeping on the sofa  The problem I’m having is that it looks more like my mom’s sofa, but she doesn’t allow furry friends in her house, so I’m not sure any more.  If it weren’t for the four legs I might be convinced it was my brother, but the last time I saw him — yesterday, he still had only two legs.  Otherwise, he is rather furry though.

This morning I actually slept in.  About noon I was awakened rather rudely by a noise that I couldn’t readily identify.  A ringing in my ears that kept going, and going, and going, like that pink bunny that always drove me a little bit crazy.  I finally identified it as my cell phone, hooked to my pj’s.  Naturally, by that time the voice mail had picked up, but it turned out to be the monitor telling me I had a package in the office.  I keep the cell with me at all times because I fall a lot, and have been stuck in some odd places that are harder to get out of than they were to fall into.  But that’s a whole ‘nother story.

I slowly got out of bed, making sure brain and body were working together, and jumped, er, crawled, into my jeans and a tee-shirt.  Grabbed my wheels, but left magic raincoat at home since I didn’t plan on going outside, then went down to the elevator.  I hit the “down” button and stood there.  Counted the flowers on the wall, and stood there.  Sang America The Beautiful, and stood there.  Watched a spider spinning a web on the ceiling, and stood there.  Considered the possibility of having a lobotomy, and stood there.  Started wondering why I was standing there, and finally the door opened, so I got on and out of habit hit the ground floor button, trying to remember why I was going down.  When I got off the elevator and saw the monitor it all started coming back to me.

After collecting my package and checking my mailbox, and the two junk mail thingys in it, I looked around for someone to talk to, but the lobby was deserted, so I went over to the elevator and repeated my former actions, only going up this time.  Well, I didn’t sing, just in case there was someone lurking around out of sight who might hear me, but I have found that when I’m downstairs waiting for the elevator, if I sit down on the bench it will get there immediately.  It worked again.

When I walked in my kitchen I was greeted by this sight: The blue bowl is bread ready to be punched down, kneaded and put in pans, and the other bowl is sourdough waffles ready to be mixed and made for breakfast.  Yeah, time for lunch and I had slept thru breakfast, so guess what I had for break/lunch.  Can’t really call it brunch, since it was too late for that.  But after I made the first one I just tore off small bites, dipped them in the peach syrup, and stuck each bite in my mouth.  No plate to wash, although I did have the bowls to do.  And when I noticed a bit of steam coming from the waffle iron I immediately turned the fan on.  While I have the greatest respect for the people in the Fire Dept., I had no desire to see them again today.

After that I gave my summer sausage a second day mix, then sat down and started knitting while I watched some old Westerns on TV.  A good day all around.

A.

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