It is 10:27 AM and I am laying in bed. It is 58 degrees in my house but I know it will warm up during the day so I Refuse To Turn On The Heat. I did get up momentarily to brush my teeth (god bless you, automatic toothbrush with two-minute timer [but I swear, I swear, sometimes it lets me brush for no less than 4 minutes]) while opening my curtains (my cat Audrey excitedly bouncing around thinking that she will get to perch on the windowsill and imagine the sweet life outside, the poor sucker). Then I lit some candles and idon'tknowwhy but I lit this candle I hadn't touched since winter in Park Slope (that candle helped me keep my sanity in an apartment that housed Skanksey the re-re), and got back in bed. Twenty minutes later I can smell the candle from the kitchen and I hear the rhythmic jingling of lots of tiny little bells, shink-shink-shink, and this is no attempt on my part to be literary because I look outside to the source of the noise and see a runner, steps perfectly align with the sound, and wonder what possessed him to tie bells around his ankles this morning. Perhaps it was for moral support.
I mowed my lawn yesterday after I assembled the mower that came in the mail. The delivery man said, "Y'know they make those with motors now, heh heh heh." I said, "Don't want no motor," and then I mowed in the rain. The taller grass got away, but it looks alright.