I slept in until 0800 amazed that I had slept at all given the number of bad anniversaries I suffered this week. Then I brewed up a nice strong pot of Trader Joe's New Mexico arabica blended with toasted pinion nut into which I added just a fraction of a gram of cinnamon. While this percolated in my Old-School blue and white enamel ware coffee perc on the stove, I popped open a fresh tin of Sutliff Private Stock "Black Swan" burley and let it breathe. Once the coffee was done, I poured a steaming dose of onyx black joe into the hand thrown stoneware mug I fabricated over the summer. Then, I retired to the back patio with my cup, my pipe, and the pugs. Each of the three dogs picked out a tree-filtered sunbeam next to the koi pond while the worlds most useless cat played with snails on the sun-dappled waterfall. I carefully did a final thumb tamp on my Mr. Brog ChoChla and started the initial toast burn. Finally, to the sound of the songbirds, waterfall, and snoring pugs, I put my feet up on the limestone wall of the flowerbed and enjoyed my coffee and smoke while I read through the night's RSS feeds on my netbook.
Everyone was asleep but myself, the wild birds and the cat. The neighborhood was free, for once, of traffic, aircraft and children. I tossed some chow to the koi and watched them apprehensively steal individual nuggets from between the golden sycamore leaves that had fallen into the pond overnight. A cool breeze filtered through the yard, barely disturbing the potted ferns and late season iris flowers. A single male oriole waited in the mulberry tree over the upper pond for the cat to slink off deep into the variegated hostas to hunt crickets. Po-dog stirred only to climb up into my lap to sleep in that boneless, shapeless mass only a 45 pound giganto-pug can. I dozed on and off for a bit, my pipe going out, my coffee gone cold.
And that, my friends, is just the sort of reason I left all that stress and union bulldookey behind and started college this late in life. On mornings like this one, you quickly realize that none of that work-related insanity is worth it, a new career is. Sunbeams and a good smoke are too, even more so.
Everyone was asleep but myself, the wild birds and the cat. The neighborhood was free, for once, of traffic, aircraft and children. I tossed some chow to the koi and watched them apprehensively steal individual nuggets from between the golden sycamore leaves that had fallen into the pond overnight. A cool breeze filtered through the yard, barely disturbing the potted ferns and late season iris flowers. A single male oriole waited in the mulberry tree over the upper pond for the cat to slink off deep into the variegated hostas to hunt crickets. Po-dog stirred only to climb up into my lap to sleep in that boneless, shapeless mass only a 45 pound giganto-pug can. I dozed on and off for a bit, my pipe going out, my coffee gone cold.
And that, my friends, is just the sort of reason I left all that stress and union bulldookey behind and started college this late in life. On mornings like this one, you quickly realize that none of that work-related insanity is worth it, a new career is. Sunbeams and a good smoke are too, even more so.
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Sounds great, nicely shared!