It was beautiful out today. I opened all the windows and let the fresh air in. Sunny and seventy.
I set the alarm for 3am today to make sure my daughter got up for her new job. She starts at 4am. When I woke up, she was already up and getting ready for work. I wished her luck and went back to bed. I fell asleep right away. Thank god for waterbeds.
This is something that has been rolling around in my head for awhile. I am not sure what or were it is going but I thought I put some of it in writing here:
It's a Saturday morning and I am laying in my goosedown bed. I have a big heavy quilt over me, that my mother made when I was first born. Written on it is my name (name). I'm twelve now and have been lying in bed on Saturday mornings for the past year. The sun isn't up yet and the quilt is covering everything but a little space that I can peer out of. I can see the opposite side of the room from here. Directly across the room is the attic door and in about 10 minutes my father will sneek into my room. Cross the floor, open the attic door, get down on his knees and crawl through the opening and into the space beyond. Today I plan to follow him into the attic and see what he does in there. Like I said early, I have been watching him do this for the last year or so. the thing is he doesn't come out. I usually forget he went in and don't really remember seeing him until Monday morning. My mother usually takes me and my siblings to her mothers for the weekend so we can spend time with our aunts, uncles and cousins. We usually have a big breakfast and then head out. The drive is a good part of the day. My Grandie has a big old farmhouse with a wood burning stove in the kitchen. She will have made pies and cookies already and there will probably be a stuffed goose in the oven. I love the smell of her kitchen. It smells like most homes do on Thanksgiving but her's smells that way all the time. The thing is I went into the attic last weekend to get some cookies and milk, they kind that doesn't need refrigation. I leave them in there incase I get hungry. I love old stale oreo cookies and milk. The cookies get all soft and chewy. Anyway when I was in there I realized my father wasn't there. So, I searched the house, he was nowhere. I asked my mother were dad was and she said he was around somewhere. I looked somemore and didn't find him. Infact, I didn't see him until Monday morning like usual. So, today is the day I follow him into the attic and see were he goes.
We shall see what comes of my little ramblings. More to follow.
I set the alarm for 3am today to make sure my daughter got up for her new job. She starts at 4am. When I woke up, she was already up and getting ready for work. I wished her luck and went back to bed. I fell asleep right away. Thank god for waterbeds.
This is something that has been rolling around in my head for awhile. I am not sure what or were it is going but I thought I put some of it in writing here:
It's a Saturday morning and I am laying in my goosedown bed. I have a big heavy quilt over me, that my mother made when I was first born. Written on it is my name (name). I'm twelve now and have been lying in bed on Saturday mornings for the past year. The sun isn't up yet and the quilt is covering everything but a little space that I can peer out of. I can see the opposite side of the room from here. Directly across the room is the attic door and in about 10 minutes my father will sneek into my room. Cross the floor, open the attic door, get down on his knees and crawl through the opening and into the space beyond. Today I plan to follow him into the attic and see what he does in there. Like I said early, I have been watching him do this for the last year or so. the thing is he doesn't come out. I usually forget he went in and don't really remember seeing him until Monday morning. My mother usually takes me and my siblings to her mothers for the weekend so we can spend time with our aunts, uncles and cousins. We usually have a big breakfast and then head out. The drive is a good part of the day. My Grandie has a big old farmhouse with a wood burning stove in the kitchen. She will have made pies and cookies already and there will probably be a stuffed goose in the oven. I love the smell of her kitchen. It smells like most homes do on Thanksgiving but her's smells that way all the time. The thing is I went into the attic last weekend to get some cookies and milk, they kind that doesn't need refrigation. I leave them in there incase I get hungry. I love old stale oreo cookies and milk. The cookies get all soft and chewy. Anyway when I was in there I realized my father wasn't there. So, I searched the house, he was nowhere. I asked my mother were dad was and she said he was around somewhere. I looked somemore and didn't find him. Infact, I didn't see him until Monday morning like usual. So, today is the day I follow him into the attic and see were he goes.
We shall see what comes of my little ramblings. More to follow.