"From the opiate of custom to the ledges of extremes don't believe it til you've held it; life is seldom what it seems. Lay your heart upon the table and in the shuffling of dreams, remember who on Earth you are." -Pete Sinfield and Greg Lake
I got a head like a snowglobe this morning. More stuff floating and twirling around in it than in Herman Cain's brain. Going to bed early didn't really work, cuz I read a bit, then a thought would distract me, and then it's get up a few times to look at something or other. Which leads to doing something. Around midnight I turned everything off and made my eyes stay shut. Imagined a rainbow. Fell asleep.
Already up for 2 hours, I haven't done much but sit here reading online and staring out the window. It's a quiet morning in The Shire. Unusually warm. While I have a bajillion projects in mind and things lay around just waiting for my attention I don't want to do a thing but sit here and hold a cuppa.
Way back my brother Billy used to sing at me, "You've got morning face, I never cared for morning face but you've got morning face and that's your weakness now." 40 years later, it fits. I'll have to call him.
The Door Is Ajar.
6 days ago