Sunday slipped into space with the weariness of an old ship being brought into port the final time. Rain and cold air heralded his arrival. Lackluster sunrise contributed its presence at 7:29 AM, or as the house floofs term it, midday. They’ve been up a few hours, pranking one another, running around, and asking me to play with them. “In a little while,” I slur with sleep-induced laziness.
Welcome to December 11, 2022.
The floofs have eaten and are now asleep. It’s 2 degrees C out but don’t worry, it’ll spunk up to 44 F before the sun slinks away at 4:39 PM. It’ll get down to 34 F tonight and up to 46 tomorrow before dropping to 25 tomorrow night. We’re expecting snow showers sometime during this up and down cycle.
I have “She’s Not There” in my morning mental music stream. It’s the Santana version. Yeah, a repeat, delivered by Les Neurons after I answered a survey about my recent replacement part shopping experience. I detailed it more in the post, “Replacement Part”. Anyway, I commented to the company that they’re not there on the weekends. Les Neurons shuffled from ‘you’ to ‘she’ faster than a floof can eat a treat. The Zombies did a great job with the Argent written song in 1964. I know it well and admired it. But Les Neurons keep playing Carlos Santana’s guitar from his group’s cover of it in 1977. Who am I to argue with my neurons? Might as well argue with the floofs or muses. Those are all arguments I will lose, along with any engaged with my spouse.
Stay positive, test negative, and if you fail, try again, right? I need some coffee. Here’s Santana and the song. Have a better one. Cheers