I love early Saturday mornings in my little house. I'm wearing my favorite green leggings and drinking out of my special little mug and feeling very much in my lair. I have watered all my seedlings, and my dog is quickly losing control of his emotions because of my disinterest in his tennis ball situation. The weather on the front porch is perfect, with light running along the little dew drops under the iron rail.
I know I have to put on real clothes--running clothes--and go running, and make breakfast, and get ready for what promises to be a pretty busy day. I'm going to Winchester, then out dancing tonight, and that's about the opposite of homebody mood I'm in, although I'm sure I'll have fun when I go. I have to be social sometimes, and not just spend every weekend out with my dog. And I can do that tomorrow. Work in the yard, run my errands, and if there's time, check to make sure the woods are still there...
I am not in the mood to read any Charles Wright, so all my library books are overdue. Drew the page of cups, and propped him up on a little Brandywine tomato seedling here on the bar where I'm writing this.
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