My mood is on her fingertips and toes this morning. Her thighs are weak so she looks funny being on all four, but she is walking slowly enough so as to make the rest of us not notice her.

The floor has grit from the furry creatures who traipse in and out, enjoying and at the same time ignoring the effect of the grime that they bring in from the outside which has been plastered with mud from the shitty weather. My accompanist, my mood, she feels all of the strands of fur from that Golden Retriever and wonders if there will ever be cleanliness. She knows that I will always insist on dogs being fully in my life even if it means I live in a shack. She contemplates the effort to clean and the likelihood of the smooth surfaces lasting longer than a few hours. She longs to provide me with inspiration to do more to keep a clean house.

Next, of course, her thoughts slide to the ever-depressing pile of papers which have little but the most chaotic of organization. She scolds me and tells me that I am a beast. I am longing for my coffee and not in the mood to argue. There are millions of Read the rest of this entry »