Picture from the weekend, me and my godson Dylan (who is at the DANCING age – my god, is he cute):
I’m sitting in the yarn room, decidedly Not Writing, but that’s okay. I worked the 18-hour shift last night, drove blearily home, slept till noon, and then got up because I still have to sleep tonight and get up at 4:30am for another round.
But that means I can be lazy today. So I am. I’ve been sitting here in my armchair, doing nothing more than reading blogs (leaving few comments, because I’m that lazy) and thinking about what I’ll make for dinner (I’m thinking 3-hour baked potatoes and my new favorite salad: spinach, chopped beets, feta, with poppy-seed dressing).
Waylon is one side of me, and Digit has been my wrist-weight for a while now. There’s a heaviness in the air outside — rain is coming. I can’t wait. And someone is burning wood in a fireplace, even though it’s not necessary — not cold enough for that yet. But I won’t complain. I love that smell. I’m relaxed, because I’m sleepy, I think. Gunshots heard a few minutes ago (we live in east Oakland, so this isn’t uncommon, but they’re not usually heard this early in the day), followed by the helicopter drone as it flew low. We have devices in this area of town that tell police dispatch the difference between gunshots and fireworks (surprisingly hard to differentiate by sound, even for cops) and it locates them by triangulation, so the police helicopter is usually pretty quick to respond. It left quickly, though, and no sirens were heard, so no one was shot, and for that I’m grateful. I just heard a man yell and slam a door down the street (not related to earlier gunshots, different direction), but then I heard a mother walking her two kids up from school, the kids laughing, the mother speaking in Spanish to them. We live on a culdesac, so I can hear a lot of things, but fewer people actually pass in front of the house, so I listen more than see.
And that smell! That fireplace wood-smoke is soooo good. I could eat the air. But instead I think I’ll go to the store (even though that means getting out of my robe) and buy some potatoes.
To bookend with photos, one picture of Lala and me, at Slims the other night (doesn’t she just look like a rockstar?):
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