Friday, 1 January 2016

, this is no more than a ramble on the page.

At five, the alarm clock sounds. It can only sound because it is a Friday, the first Friday of the year. The first of fifty-two, more or less. and there is no work today, not on New years Day. And the alarm is off on the weekends. it must therefore be Friday. Awaken again at ten in the morning. New years Day, the last year is past gone and done with.
Stroke the cat, the poor animal still shocked by all the noise that it had had to endure in the previous night. Bangers, and other fireworks. Maybe the distant detonations were to much for her, the shock waves making their way into her ears in ways that humans will not easily understand.
Be all that as it may, This did not stop her eating the remains of a pate sausage left out in the kitchen by the son on the wife, rendering the remains of it unsuitable for human consumption.

The day will not begin, it is overcast, the son is already any at his computers, solving server problems. This has become an all-absorbing problems, it is difficult to convince him of  problems involving other things. He is very focused, very con­centrated on these problems., less so to those important to his parents. That is the way with children.
There is a wish to leave the house, to wander around on this warm day, not much colder than Christmas, and far to warm for the time of year. A walk in the park would be good, this is no more than a ramble on the page. 

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