Thirstdaz Wandering Thoughts

I was in the kitchen, looking for a dropped blueberry. “What are you doing?” my wife asked as she came around the corner.

“I lost a blueberry. Do you see a blueberry on the floor?”

“No.” She and I squinted at the hardwood floor together. “You sure you lost i?”

“Pretty sure.” I missed Quinn. Anything hit the floor and black paws was after it fast. Almost everything scared him but he was always willing to approach and sniff before giving things a bat. His ability to spot these things was useful. Papi, on the other hand, has no interest in anything falling on the ground. I once dropped some treats on the floor to see what he would do. He sat and stared at the treat before turning a puzzled expression onto me.

Without Quinn, I could not find the blueberry. Nor could my wife. While I had her, I asked, “Should I change?” We were going to dinner. I was rocking light grey slacks and a white shirt.

Her eyes went nuclear. “Absolutely. Go put on your nice blue shirt.”

She walked off.

I looked down. Something was on the floor. I picked it up. Piece of granola. I remembered dropping it two days ago. I couldn’t find it.

Probably find the blueberry in two more days. I certainly can’t depend on Papi.

Wenzda’s Wandering Thoughts

I had a haircut earlier this month. Really? Which one? *tish*

My wife said, “You look nice. Your hair looks really good.”

“Thanks,” I answered. I was leaving for the coffee shop. “I have a campaign to look less homeless. My hair is too short.”

“Looks good.”

“Too short. It’s shorter than it was when I was in the military because I have less of it now.”

“It looks good.”

“It’s too short.”

“It looks good.”

“Agree to disagree. See you later.”

“It looks good.”

Fogda’s Wandering Thoughts

Was in the library. Coldish day with air temp circulating at 42 F as rain and clouds said no to the sun.

A woman and child walked past. The adult seemed in her late thirties. Child, a girl, looked ten. I assume Mom and daughter but I don’t know. What struck was their dress. The adult wore boots, gloves, a knitted hat, and a puffy jacket. Kid wore crocs. Loose pants which looked like fleece jammies. A thin long-sleeved top.

Out they went into the weather together. I said something to my wife about the difference in their dress. She replied, “Yes, those young people just don’t seem to feel it, do they?”

No, they don’t.

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