and sure as night follows the day

It's day again, and there is work to be done (and songs to be sung) and I’ve had my swim and breakfast and I need to rest again.

It’s still Monday and I haven’t done much (anything) today. I puttered with some soup and some food and some planning. I sat on the balcony and drank coffee and caught up with NYTs and enjoyed it.

A friend dropped in with a chicken carcass for me to make bone broth with and she stayed for tea. I promised myself that I would plant later but it’s later now and the sun is too hot for me to work out there, so I’ll wait till—when?

I can’t believe I can be so lazy. Will I ever get better?

Do I care? Do you?

I’m not complaining. I’m just bearing witness to my sloth.