no plans

nine twenty and the bells are ringing for the churchgoers.
Reading about the politics in the world, realise that it is a clowns game now.

It is like a lottery.
All have the right to buy a ticket.
As a result of this purchase, all have the right to win.
But not everyone does.
Most people do not win, they lose their investment.

The bells are silent now.
Sit at the desk.
Write these notes.
It is warm, the things in the house are in disorder.
The coffee maker has been on for some time now, and it is grumbling, it is reheating the water, waiting for a user to put coffee in the sieve and flick the switch.
Hear a helicopter in the distance. This is possibly a rescue helicopter, in connection with the fire brigade's horns that were to be heard earlier.

The sky is blue with tiny white clouds in streaks.
Alto cumulus, or something.

The son is up
and the wife is up
The cat was fed, a result of it's protest.
And this is a Sunday, there are no plans for the day.