"It's quiet out there...too quiet," I remarked. When the jungle, the city, or the battlefield becomes too quiet, the reader knows all hell is about to break lose with an enemy offensive. I am conditioned to wait and to fear the worst is one breath away.
My washer and dryer are idle. So is the dishwasher. It's eerie. I don't think this has ever happened before. For twenty-three years my major appliances have been running like an involuntary household heartbeat. Now they are standing silent, waiting for the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unmatched Sock.
Brought a few dingy puppets and dress-up clothes home from work just to cheer up the Kenmores. For one cycle they felt useful and needed again. Tonight at bedtime I'm going to read them The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Gray Bridge. And speaking of lighthouses, check out these photos: Lighthouses, a Photographic Journey.