A whistler on the street woke me long before the alarm was to go off. I don't think it was a drunk as the air, neither what I heard or how it felt outside, was chipper yet controlled. My friend, DMF, has perfect pitch; whistlers make him crazy. It took me awhile to recognize the song. It was Deck the Halls With Boughs of Holly. Well, that was an odd choice for this time of year.
Lately, my dreams have been more like vistitations. I go through my days with the vague sense of having spent time with various people. I think I had a dream about Carl recently. I don't dream about him often; I never have.
The blogger site was down for a day or two. And then I was in the rush of getting ready for the guests.
I didn't get everything done I wanted to, but the house does look pretty darn good.
L and L went out for awhile on Saturday evening. I was laying on the floor with the cats when they came in. They asked if I often laid on the floor. I replied that this had been my first opportunity as there was no room before.
The weekend passed in a fun blur. There was neither time nor fully sobriety to write. And now begins another chapter of sorts, more focussed on work than on cleaning my desk. I'll post pictures sometime later. For now I need to catch up on my sleep.