Saturday, 13 December 2014

blueskysaturday.

if sleep was for the wicked. then wildo must be a saint. Saint Wildo.
No, No. that is not even a dream.
wake worried about the time. Go to bathroom. Double relief it is only three.

Grey light from a clear sky before dawn. The view of a window sill that has not been tidied, cleared up, or dusted for the last yonks. Get up, kitchen, cold coffee, see son in sitting room at the table doing his homework. Is'nt he a saint? German homework. German Grammer. Learning to write logically. Do him no harm, would do nobody harm.

Cuddle, clean up the kitchen, tidy here there and so forth. To clean up everywhere would take a long time. Make fresh coffee, start the dishwasher wipe the table.
Bring her a cup of coffee for the wife, her morning rest.
Son is now at mathematics.
That sky has turned blue with one streak of condensation from a passing jet bisecting the view.

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