Thoughts

I require an inordinate amount solitude especially during spring and fall when receive-mode hits hard. I do enjoy people around me when shopping in the supermarket or on my downtown dog walks, but I do not want anyone clinging to me or asking me to make plans. I want to soak up the world as a semi-anonymous person, a friendly acquaintance. When my friends make new friends I am relieved. "That's because you're an introvert!" my husband reminds me.

On my walk home from the pool I saw a woman with a young pup. The dog was white with one blue and one brown eye. "I was fostering him along with my 2 huskies and I fell in love," she said. "He's just beginning to trust humans. He was picked up wandering the streets somewhere in Tennessee." The dog was leaning against her and plopped down over her left foot. "I discovered he's deaf. And he's blind in the brown eye." She picked him up holding him in her arms like a baby lamb. "He has double dewclaws on his back legs," I said. "Good luck with him and thank you for letting me meet him."

Yesterday at 7am I was walking Romeo and I saw a guy pull out of the butcher shop driving a huge tractor-trailer full of frozen meat. He was chugging a bottle of Budweiser. He turned and smiled at me.

This morning I saw a man riding a bicycle wearing a leopard-print coat and a leopard-print backpack.

 It's 73 degrees out. They call this a nice day.