Toes

I’m painting my toe nails. Something utterly mundane. I’m hiding on the back porch while my kids romp to Saturday morning cartoons, my hubby sleeps off whatever it is the week threw at him, and the puppies are waiting for clean puppy pads.

Of course, in sneaking back here, I didn’t grab my glasses or contacts. I may end up with Picaso or Escher-esque nails. It is mellowing, tho.

The birds are alive with spring fever. The bunnies keep hopping near the fence line. The sun is warm, not yet toasty. The grass is growing, and I, in my pajamas, am lazing.

It’s only 10. I’ve already done the round of feedings. Cleaned off my work table and moved it out to the studio. I tried to make cinnamon rolls, but we’re missing too many supplies.

I refuse to acknowledge the waiting laundry. It’ll get done. I’ve already been up a while, and busy. I’m still coughing and honking. I also have two other honkers in the house. Spring cleaning and spring colds. Lovely.

I can only wonder what the neighbors might think, to see me out here, toes sorted out, messy yard, inactive. I heard one of them mowing. Good for them! I don’t look in their windows, they can not look into my yard. It makes no nevermind.

Everything else is buzzing, buzzing. Me and my toes, we’ll just sit a bit. Enjoy the flow of energy. Maybe I’ll soak up a little bit extra, to get ready for Saturday, part 2.

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