My friend Wynne is a wise woman. She visited the Blue Bell factory and discerned that I needed a special scoop and bowl for times of Blue Bell therapy. An Amazon gift certificate netted the raspberry chocolate syrup. The combination of bowl, syrup, and natural vanilla bean Blue Bell was most tasty to me. The bowl is extra Myrtle-ish. How so? you ask. The udder feet have rubber tips so that, in my constant clumsiness, I actually cannot knock over the bowl. Blue Bell should never be spilt or wasted. Never.
Somehow, even though I have only been awake for four hours, it feels as if it is long past midnight. I did have to clear the back sidewalk of snow a second time so Amos could tend to his business. Perhaps that is why I cannot seem to do anything but yawn and languish in the GREEN chair.
Or maybe the exhaustion is pre-exhaustion? I need to go out on Monday. That means shoveling the front walk, the street fore and aft of the car, and clearing the fresh mound of snow off of my car. Is pre-exhaustion possible?
I did discover something new or, perhaps, re-discovered something: Amos' curls create mini-snowballs that are worse than burrs. Amos comes back inside more a popsicle than a puppy. And neither he nor I am skilled at removing them. Seriously, I cannot fathom how they are formed nor why it is that even tugging with great might does not remove them.
They weary me.
Or maybe I weary them?
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
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