Ho Hum Easter Sunday

No, I’m not dead. No, I’m not sick. No, I didn’t break both arms. I just haven’t had anything to say lately. None of the news stories appeals to me. There are so many stupid things going on in the world that I can’t decide which to comment on. That truly stupid young man in North Korea deserves a paragraph or two, but I’ll wait on that to see how much stupider he can act in the next week. All in all, this is writer’s block to the tenth power. It's Easter Sunday and we're observing it in the cathedral of our home. The Catholics down the street held up traffic from both directions for over ten minutes while they poured out of the church parking lot. Charlie is out on the patio enjoying his new furniture. I recently bought him a five-foot cat tree: half-barrel crouch on top, full open-ended barrel below with a diamond cutout in the side, another half-barrel at the bottom. Right now, he’s sleeping in the full barrel, enjoying the 85° day, listening to the grackles squawking in the yard. I just finished watching the Houston Open golf, but they got rained out before conclusion. Ho hum. Quite a few no-names contending. Phil stumbled again and Rory was never even close. Two more weeks until the Masters. Can’t wait to see what the big boys do with that layout. I still pick Tiger to win his fifth jacket. Oh, yes, and a few days ago we had new carpet laid in our two bedrooms and the Arizona room. It’s a tight weave gray and looks very nice. But oh what a job it was to move all the small stuff out of the three rooms. And, of course, I had to break down my computer. It’s always touch and go to see if I can put it back together again. And the million books and knickknacks had to be boxed and moved out onto the patio. The installers moved all the big stuff in the bedrooms. It took them six hours, six hours of us sort of sitting around until they got finished. Rosalie chose to sit with the cats in the laundry room. Charlie has become such a scardy cat when anyone he doesn’t know comes around. We think Squeakie taught him that. But it was finally completed and we could then begin the job of putting everything back where it belonged. I found a lot of stuff I no longer needed, so out it went. Life at the far edge is a slow process of getting rid of the stuff we once thought was so important.