Things of No Interest.

I’ve been very busy today. I generally dislike being busy because I’m not the busy sort; I’m the observing and musing sort. My place is either deep in the countryside observing nature, or sitting quietly on the dock of the bay wasting time and observing the oddities apparent in the human condition.

Must admit, though, today’s busy-ness did include spending a couple of hours or so deep cleaning both my living room and my bedroom, in consequence of which I felt really, really pleased with myself. But now I wonder why I bother saying things to people they couldn’t possibly have any reason to be interested in.

And today was one of those awful ones in which mishaps and frustrations keep pouring out of the ether not as single spies but in battalions. Such days can be quite maddening, and I spent much of my time today feeling quite maddened. A little dog did come over to its garden gate at one point to say hello to me, which was rather nice but didn’t help very much. And another dog wanted to say hello to me but I’m not allowed to reciprocate its advances because its human is scared of being pulled off her feet. The dog is big and powerful, you see, and she isn’t. I know the feeling.

I had home-made pea and potato soup for dinner tonight, accompanied by an olive oil roll with a Japanese name. That’s about as close as I ever get to being an epicure. And I haven’t caught sight of the Lady B since the day before Methuselah was born.