Today is no different from yesterday or the day before or the day before that one. My deck still has its winter look. None of the furniture is uncovered, and the candles are yet to be hung from the trees. This cold and damp weather doesn’t invite the deck’s summer finery. I go out and fill the feeders then hurry back in cold from the dampness. It rained again last night, and I have a parade of paw prints across my kitchen floor. I’ll throw in a Pollyanna moment here and say there is an upside. My lawn looks green and lush.
Gracie and I are dump bound today, and I decided I might as well ruin the entire day by going grocery shopping.
If we count activity as productivity, this was a lazy week. Every chance I got, I read and yesterday I finished the Lincoln Vampire book. It was an odd one, and I’d be careful about to whom I’d recommend it. The list of people would be quite short. A suspension of disbelief is entirely necessary.
I think we are all born with a suspension of disbelief then, as we get older, we stop believing in wonders and get skeptical and scoff. Away goes Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Nothing replaces them. Our world becomes less filled with anticipation and a holiday is just a holiday. A once scary movie is made fun of and did you notice the Creature from the Black Lagoon wears a scuba tank? I didn’t. I love those old movies, and I always fail to notice their blemishes. I count myself lucky for that.
I admit being skeptical about many things. I don’t believe in ghosts, never did even when I was little. Things that went bump in the night gave me pause, but ghosts were never my first guess. I thought the Hook was more likely the reason for the noise. That story scared me to the roots of my being. The idea of his hook hanging from the car door seemed awful close to reality.
I love the books of Stephen King and Dean Koontz. A strange sound still gives me pause. That suspension of disbelief has never left me, and I am extremely grateful.