It was not raining this morning, so there was no flood of mud to navigate through to get to the pool. So, I put my stocking hat on, for the needed warmth, due to it being in the 60s (BRRRRR) and headed to the cold water soon after the sun broke through the cover of gray to light up the place.My Lincolnesque state of sad melancholy has not lifted, so I continue to spread doom and gloom to all I come in contact with. I can't help myself. Not that I try all that hard.
I continue to worry about my little sister and her apparent attempts to turn her house into a bad sit-com plot, what with the frequently hospitalized poodles, the ever growing brood of little kids and the chronic cases of, what sounds to me like, food poisoning.
I'm also worried about Alma, the Songbird of the Texas Gulf Coast, due to her diabetes taking a turn for the worse. An ER visit got her some interventions that I hope make her better.
Despite ailing, Alma is such a trooper she is doing a short show, 7 pm Saturday, at the Port Aransas Inn. Alma's percussion partner, Luis Villarreal, is re-joining Alma to give her some rhythm. I'd go if I were in the neighborhood. Unfortunately, I am about 500 miles away.
No comments:
Post a Comment