Up

Up even earlier this morning, more layers of wool on than for yesterday's beach walk. Four. A orange-red-pink blanket is top, because most accommodating, then, like a Russian doll, you can peel back layers, you can open me up and find more layers: a red possum jumper, a black, roll-neck woollen jumper, and beneath that, a blue scoop-neck, long-armed woollen vest. 

Winter bird: Cardinal

The glass is black on the curtain-less window. The French Doors however have their curtains drawn against our night exposure to the neighbours. The light is on beyond the computer glare. Oh dear, I believe I am going to wax lyrical about the night again! It's a fairly worn out theme. I will resist...

Daughter B is up indeed, readying herself for her long day in at the varsity library studying for exams next week, so it is hardly night. Husband M is out the door just now, beating the traffic and the birds. C1 and C2 are still in bed, I will wake C2 at eight as usual. C1 would normally be up at 8.00am to catch the 8.20 bus, but it's study break so he'll be up at two.

The cat is running across the floorboards with a pitter-patter as fast as an insect's. Her daughter, Trixie, on the other paw, is probably asleep on C2s face, or somewhere as close as she can get to his heat. They are very close, although only in winter.

I am typing on the couch at the coffee table. I have a hair appointment at 10.15 this morning. Cut and colour for Mum's visit and B's birthday bash. I have left it very late this year. My last cut and colour was October. June is almost a year.

I will get back to you on that, perhaps with an after photo.