Waiting for the rain. Not sure why I’m so excited about it.

Want to run in it, since I didn’t get out yesterday.  No music on bu there will be in a second.  February almost.  This next month I need to strengthen my efforts in everything in the AE world.  Connect it with this somehow, morning writing… blogging.  Make more a story out of it.  That should be the sole roll.

Kids upstairs playing.   Henry I believe back to sleep after his morning serving, and Melissa probably back to a little more sleep, not sleeping well last night.  I didn’t either, but I need to be up and on keys, before the rain arrives.

Coffee on the table in front of me.  Quiet.  That will be the track of the morning.  No artist, no title, just the date and time.  8:14am on the 24th.  So many mornings I call different or proclaim to self that something will be different about today – but THIS day, morning, it is.  I feel, I don’t know… free, somehow.  Like unafraid of consequence, or the pandemic’s grip on sales and my prospecting efforts, that kind of thing.  Or maybe it’s something else.  Either way, I’m free.  Or I have myself thinking I am.

I look at the weather as predicted on my phone….  Nothing now, but 100% change of rain at 9am, then nothing at 10, and 30% at 11, nothing at noon, 70% at 1.  Are they making this up?  Why can the rain never be consistent?  And again, why do I want it to rain so badly?  Thinking of writing and looking at the drops and sheets hit our street, running in it of course, and the vineyards and how they need rain.  What next vintage, this year, will give us as a result.

No latte this morning, I tell myself.  Only coffee or espresso thrown together in home.  Think the kids are coming downstairs.  Shit, they are.  There goes the quiet, bye bye….  More coffee will better be in that cup soon, all I gotta say.