sunday morning

sunday

Call this this the anti-check your pants. A new day, with a little money in the bank. Fresh laundry hanging on the line. A shopping trip to the pet store with my son, to buy a birthday gift for a classmate and maybe a little something extra for our female pet dwarf hamster, Chubs. Newly-bought smoothie ingredients (bananas, kale, mixed berries, maca powder) in the pantry and a four-pack of toilet paper in the bathroom. There are dried pineapple snacks on the way via Fed Ex. I even picked up some fancy conditioner. It’s not every day I can afford the Moroccan argan oil, but yesterday, after working six hours chopping wood and carrying water, I could.

The coffee is on, left by my wife on the way out the door, and there are donuts. I might even take my car to the car wash for a deluxe treatment. And get a slice of pizza or buy a few dollars’ worth of old vinyl at my local record shop. The sun is shining, and yesterday I went to the beach, took this photograph, and was the only soul body-surfing in the ocean.

Now is the time for the warmest water of the year. The tide was coming in and the ocean treated me to some tasty two-foot rollers. The blanketed and fleeced oldsters on the shore must have thought I was crazy. I didn’t care. The children wanted to join me, the parents forbidding it. When you’re on the side of the children, then you know you’re doing something right.

One day can make a difference. Today I have joy and just a little sliver of security. A half-tank of gas is better than no gas at all.

Do any of us have much more than that? The billionaires and the losers are really the same. No one is secure, nothing is eternal. Here today, gone tomorrow. Dust to dust, etcetera.

No saber-toothed tigers here. No vision quests, yet. But still.

This living-on-the-edge thing can be beautiful sometimes.

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