… The Old Man Is Snoring

Boy, it is teaming outside. Thunder. Lightening. Oh, the luxury of a dry, well-lit, warm living room, the delight of a pot of hot herbal tea, the comfort of a pair of soft woolly slippers, and the feeling of smugness with a four day weekend ahead and nothing planned. Nada! A blank calendar. Bliss.

My daughter is off for a day of visiting museums (Christian Dior 1947 to 1957 exhibit) and shopping in Berlin. Pretty sophisticated outing for a 12 year old, but it was her birthday gift from one of her (chosen) aunts. Mine is not to question… (I’m allergic to shopping).

It’s raining so much that I am tempted to forgo picking up our traditional Wednesday evening falafel takeout and cooking up a meal for the rest of the family myself. Well, maybe tempted, but I’m sure the falafel will beckon me beyond the warmth of our living room door.

Just looked out the window and the rain water on the street is surging past deep enough to carry a kayak. (Yes, an exaggeration.)