Junie the Poop and the Blustery Day

It's a windy rain-spittery day, and it suits me perfectly.


I met a friend for breakfast at the local greasy spoon, and then we browsed at a local gifty shop for a long time. Soy candles in delicious flavors (Gardenia, Vanilla Coffee, Clean Laundry) and marked-down-to-two-dollars earrings.

I am a Happy Woman.

When I returned home the one Adirondack chair, taken out of storage as a sign of faith that lawn chair season will return, was nowhere in sight. I scanned the medium distance and saw it, blown a thousand feet upfield, and I trudged out over the hummocky ground to retrieve it.





The unwieldy chair and I became a catboat, beating back downfield to home port.

I had a thrilling moment or two of near-parasailing.


Our windblown outing satisfied the dogs' requirement for an afternoon walk and we are settled with our small fire in the woodstove and a sweet book, The Daily Coyote, at hand. I foresee imminent reading/nappytime.

I've been waiting . . . tap tap tap (foot) for the Sunday Scribblings prompt and it hasn't appeared. I could probably just pick a word at random and blather on about it and maybe if I feel like working a little harder later, I will.