Quite a string of letters for 133.
Well, I got to page 151 in Hart and nodded off several times, decided to quit, have an apple, do the dishes, and go to bed. I tend to buy 5 or 6 of the dependable kinds, gala or golden delicious, for example, then I buy 3 of kinds I don't know, like piñata, honey crisp, ambrosia, etc. I like choices. Since we did Meijers two or three days ago, I am well stocked. Yesterday I had a honey crisp (excellent); today I am all out for a golden delicious, though I discovered that it needed salt. I love putting apples on salt though my doctor might frown.
My problem with eating a big apple at 4:30 a.m. is that I started reflecting on my day. Why is there something rather than nothing? Why did Schuey poop on the stairway rather than in the yard before our walk today? He got excited, they all did, I immediately took him out, he number oned immediately and ran back onto the deck. I called him to me off the deck five times; each time he would run to the front where I was, turn around, run back to the door. I gave up and let him in. Big, and I mean big, glistening, stinky mistake. I was downstairs struggling to zip up my jacket (everything is contrary in my universe, especially buttons and zippers, knives and forks, spoons, soap. The list grows.). I looked up. "Sh..t" I said or yelled. It was. An ontological surprise of a different order.
In any case the apple led me here, to the iPad. I forget why, exactly. In any case here I am. Before we left the house today> haircut, bank, flower shop< I had showered and was getting dressed. Pants were on, long-sleeved T-shirt was on, went for the socks. Besides color coding, I have two categories: thin in places but wearable, and, nice. I picked out a pair of nice charcoal gray socks. I noticed a dry leaf on the floor and something else. Ever mindful of mess, I picked it up and whatever the other bit of detritus was. Took it to the bathroom waste basket, went back to the bedroom to put on my socks. No socks. I checked the bed which is where they should have been. No socks. I went back to the dresser, opened the drawer again, no socks. I went to the dining room just in case I had gone there for something, and forgot. No socks. I checked both baths. No etc. etc. etc. I began to panic. I went to the closet next to the dresser to check my laundry basket just in case I had really lost it, them, whatever. I bent over to search the dirty laundry and my socks swung down and hit the right side of my face! They had been on my shoulder the whole time! Good night sweet prince! May flights of angels carry me to my rest, for now. Memory, how I miss Thee!
Not having an editor on these statements, I notice that I overlook things. For instance, I just noticed that I was "struggling downstairs," which made it sound as though I was struggling to get downstairs which I do sometimes; this time, however, I was downstairs struggling to get my jacket zippered.
The good thing about this kind of writing is that I struggle, Ha, to get things said clearly and precisely the first (or second) time. One of the biggest problems is pronouns. Our tendency is to sprinkle them liberally throughout a text. When I am writing about this, or that, I know that I am writing about this, or that; God only knows whether a reader will, unless the referent is clear: this dachshund, or that dachshund, Simon, or possibly, Schuster, the little stinker.
Well, it is Christmas Eve. I hope everyone has a blessed evening, a blessed night, a joyous day tomorrow, and a delightful and blessed year to come.