The mother/son duo at the next table are speak in Ialian.  Their sing song accents both comfort and sadden me.  Images of Grandma flash up on my mind’s screen.  Her ever present golden tea cup; the regulation little old lady slippers that matched her housedress; the cardigan to keep out drafts.

It’s after ten, and I am not doing much to get my day started.  In the previous sentence day would also be known as my to-do list.

Instead of completing tasks and crossing them off my list, I am contemplating the word manifesto.  The word is defined as a public declaration of beliefs and principles.  Manifestos are often political, sometimes religious (creed), and occasionally lifestance oriented.

Well, it’s a sure bet I am not thinking political.  To be perfectly honest I wish there was no election coming up at all.  As far as religion goes, I define myself as Hindu-Christian, if I wish to answer when asked.

The son at the next table is now texting while talking to his Mom. 

My Cafe au Lait is kicking in. 

Rain, actually more of a glorified mist, is falling very gently outside. 

The very intense lady is up at the counter.  She’s always in a hurry.  She always makes it seem like lives are depending on her. A brain surgeon perhaps?  Most probably not.  Some of us just like to get places fast.  Maybe she’s afraid she will miss something.

Okay, time to get it in gear.

Til later.

Feeling a bit dry this morning, so I treated myself to two ice-cold Tazo green teas.  One for here, and one to carry along.

It’s nearly weekend time, and I’m thinking of doing something crafty.  About eight years ago I went on a pottery painting bender.  My daughter proudly displays all the lavender and green horrors pieces I made her. 

I can draw pretty well with a pen or pencil, but brushes are a different story.  A four year old with fingerpaints could best me, but it doesn’t stop me from trying at least once or twice a decade.

Starbucks is more than a bit noisy this morning.  There’s a couple of marketing majors to my right working on a project.  You can always tell the marketing majors.  They sound like radio announcers, and use far too much whitening toothpaste.

There’s lots of moms with mini-me’s this morning.  Reminds me of when Josie and I use to wear matching yellow high tops.  Fun times.

She’s going to be 29 – yes 29 – come April.  I’m sure she’ll be thrilled with to receive some new hand-painted pottery.

Note to Myself:  Buy gift certificates to attach to hand-painted pottery!

Think I’ll head down the street to the nail salon, and treat myself to a ten dollar shoulder massage.

Til later lovelies.

The Case of the Angry Mourner

I always thought Perry & Della had something going on

A very young Barbara Eden is featured in this episode.

Yipeee Ki Yay!