Heavy Gray Skies
It was to have been a very mild day with temps in the 40s. Not so! The air is heavy and the skies are gray and it makes my titanium joints cry. No . . . it’s not the titanium hardware, it’s tendons, muscles, nerve endings and such that are attached to the hardware. Easily felt . . . hard to explain.
With two pounds of lean hamburger, one pound of pork sausage, five different types of beans, plus sauce and seasonings, we are going to have chili for supper. A huge batch is usually made so several meals can be put in the freezer for those days that I am not about to make a meal . . . come hell or high water. Ya, there are days like that. The days that are like that, I declare to Dennis, “You are on your own for supper. Either scrounge our refrig and kitchen or you know your way to the Home Town Café.” Do you want to know what happens? About a few minutes from meal time, I hear the table being set. It is set complete with silverware, condiments and water glasses . . . filled. Screw that! I guess the message was not received and I am in the kitchen. I know, I know . . . I should be and I am thankful that Dennis will eat whatever is set before him. It’s kind of like a . . . compliment.
Snow is forecast and with the dreary heavy air making me feel dreary, it was time for me to have a talk with the big man in our living room . . . Santa. I go up close and personnel so there would be no mistaking what I want for Christmas. It was all taken in and I could swear that I saw him wink . . . or it could have been the smear on my glasses where the chili boiled up and caught me unaware. Nonetheless . . . Santa and I have an understanding. I believe we all need an understanding of what is probable, what is possible and what is heartfelt wishing.