More of the same

Beyond the sihouettes of the trees outside our kitchen window, the ones that are daily dropping delicious exotic fruits in the yard, it looks as if the world has disappeared. In a way it has. Fog has been sitting on top of us for a week or so and I am happily ignoring any chores that require I leave my little cocoon. The rainy season is lingering and mixing with the cold weather, but surprisingly it is not dreary, not with a stack of books, a hot cup of tea, and a wool-filled comforter (a.k.a. doona) to keep you company.

What is rather dreary, but in a nice way, is listening to Sarabelle and Grice practice playing their instruments, the double bass and clarinet respectively, attempting to collaborate on various pieces. It reminds me of the gloomy rendition of "Jingle Bells" from The Nightmare Before Christmas, and I have taken to walking around the house announcing, "The King of Halloween has been blown to smithereens..." whenever they strike up the band.

The winter holiday is fast approaching and we are thinking about taking a little mini-vacation somewhere. New Zealand? Tasmania? Yep. It's cold and wet here in the tropics, let's really torture ourselves and head south, especially after I left all our heavy-duty winter coats back in Florida on our Christmas trip to prevent them from turning into big smelly piles of mold. Mostly, any place that gets me far away from the tennis courts in our town will be fine, though, no matter how bitterly cold it might be. After the last tournament I was looking forward to six blissful weeks without tennis, then at the lessons I shill at, the coach announced a mini-invitational he slipped in during the holiday. Of course Sarabelle and Grice were included, and naturally he'd need someone to help him run the event that day, including a sausage sizzle, and then I received an email later that day stating he's realized after sending out the invites, that day doesn't really work for him so I'd be on my own, oh, and he's going to be out of town for the next several days and doesn't want to find that there have been any problems organizing and securing participants when he gets back.

Well.

In typical passive-aggressive style, I will either go on vacation or blow up in spectacular fashion. The choice is obvious.


I personally gave up the Absolute...I fully believe in taking moral holidays.

-- William James