The rain and wind started sometime during the night yesterday. There were a few breaks, but I didn't care. Like a petulant child, what I wanted to do was sit in a corner and suck my thumb. There certainly were things I could'a, should'a, would'a. but I just didn't want to. I'm sure my daughter didn't want or need to hear my sniveling sob story when she called long before daybreak (our Saturday ritual), but it just came pouring out. Boo hoo hooo.
As a result, I did a whole lot of nothing throughout the day. I sure didn't want to look out at the wreckage of the deck...not even the good parts. I thought about doing a trial run with the washing machine to see if it had healed itself overnight. Thinking was as far as I got with that. There were no Saturday cooking shows on. They might have at least piqued my interest, but no.
The wind and rain came again in the night. Fortunately, it's not a particularly cold storm so I'm not burning a lot of wood. Having indulged in a day-long pity party, I'm ready to get back in the saddle and, like Don Quixote, tilt at windmills once again. Or not.
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