Nothing to Say

I have absolutely nothing to say, but I am going to say this nothing anyway. The decaf coffee is dripping into the pot this morning, and there are almond flour muffins in the oven. It is Thursday. The world outside my window is gray and wet, except oddly enough, there is a fine layer of snow on both our cars. Nowhere else, just the cars. I have a theory about the ground warming up and about cold metal boxes. We’ll go with that, why don’t we?

The cats are wrestling in the hallway, feeling fat and sassy after their morning meal. They look healthy and fine and all things good about cats. They are extremely good looking cats, but we’ve noted to ourselves that although ordinary and cat-ike, they do not seem to be the most intelligent cats we’ve ever met. But that’s OK. We did not hire them for their brains.

People are starting to wake up. I just heard the bathroom door open, and some freshly washed person has emerged. An alarm clock is going off, predicting the arrival upstairs of one very groggy and grumpy teenage boy.

For my own self, I’d honestly rather be knitting right now, than writing, but I do have some writing related dreams and since I can’t quite seem to get my head wrapped completely around the creation of characters and a plot for a story, this faint effort at a blog post will have to do.

Life is small and ordinary, isn’t it? So many of us live like heroes and we don’t even know it. Many of us love when it is difficult to love, we communicate when we would rather withdraw, we work when we are in pain, and we push ourselves beyond the comfortable. But because life is so small and ordinary we don’t even see this about ourselves, do we?

And now everyone is awake, and the room is too noisy. I have no more thoughts. Nothing else to say.


elizabeth said…
Loved this post.... very beautiful. I am just learning to knit! God keep us.
the publisher said…
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