friday morning

My cat, Little Guy, makes a whimpering cry, not satisfied with being on the table, when he could be in bed. His fault for following me wherever I go.
It's 5am, and crow is the first sound I hear outside. Good morning, Crow. Always good to see (or hear) you.

It's humid this morning, I have the fan on me. I'm drinking tea.

Sometimes I come to this page with little agenda in mind... just a ramble, as I would do in a journal. Makes for a post that can be often mundane, but that is as much a part of me as anything.

I like this quiet time before the outside world really awakens. Of course, I say that and a car goes whizzing by, just to keep me in check.

Having messed up with Burnie the troll, I think I will start a new one soon. A troll is nagging to be made.... Just like a character sometimes nags to be written. There is also an elfen-type creature that wants to be made. The imagination challenges; if only the hands could follow the way I see it. But I do it the way I can. Trolls manifest themselves a bit faster, by virtue of their, well, trolliness. I see them as having their own beauty, but one that is a lot easier to sculpt!
Now, elves, on the other hand, tend to be graceful, lithe, attractive beings.... That's a bit more foreign territory to me.

The sky is lightening. I think it's going to be another grey day with the chance of thunderstorms. That's good; I like a day like that.

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In Memoriam:
Oh, dear David Carradine, you will live in my heart forever. What a fine influence you had on me in my young years. You were a good teacher, Grasshopper.