rejectomorph (flying_blind) wrote,
rejectomorph
flying_blind

Reset Sixteen, Day Forty-Eight

The day that was Sunday was damp when I woke from a midday nap, and it just got wetter from there. We probably got a good four hours of rain, and though much of it was in the form of slow drizzle I'm sure the plants appreciate it. They got a bit of snow in Paradise, I'm told, so there was surely more higher up in the mountains. The storm extended all the way into southern California. In fact a bit of snow fell in Malibu, which is a very rare event. We probably won't get any more rain out of this storm, but another is due Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, and it's supposed to bring even more rain than this one did. That storm might continue into Thursday. and then another might arrive next Sunday.

There was another cooked dinner Sunday might, but this one didn't make me logy. It was a bit smaller than the one Saturday night. I'm now thinking about a bedtime snack, which might involve cinnamon toast, though I didn't put any butter out to get soft. I suppose I could put a couple of pats in a bowl and microwave it briefly. (Don't mind me, just thinking on the Internet.) Then I'll go read for a while. I started another book, an it has a murder in it, but it isn't English and it isn't a detective story. It's Fannie Flagg's Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe. I've seen the movie a couple of times but never read the book before. This is as good a time as any to do it.

But now I find I've run out of brain again. That happens with increasing frequency. I just stall and go blank. I'm pretty sure I just spent the last forty minutes or so nowhere at all. Weird.

Cinnamon toast. Book. Sleep.
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