Interesting, Something

A long mellow cool-down and I was ok with what went down today. Sometimes it's just a matter of getting through the day, other times you have crazy attachments and it's not possible to meet your demands. The day started with a Starling in the museum. I went to the basement for my bat/bird net, but by the time I got back upstairs, the bird had gotten above the false ceiling. It took an hour to capture it alive and release it outside. Then the carpet guys arrived and I had to move all of the stuff that had been taken out of the projection booth by the A/C guys so they could drill ceiling and floor to run a freon line from the roof to the basement for the new unit, then help clean the theater. D called in sick. The fumes from the adhesive the carpet guys were using gave everyone a headache, and the rest of the staff all left. I'll have to go back to work tomorrow morning, because both the alley crew and the carpet crew will be back, and again on Monday, because I promised Sara I wouldn't allow anyone in the building if I wasn't there. I am going to the Irish Breakfast at the pub, at nine, even if I have to close the place down; not only is it a great breakfast (blood sausage, rashers, eggs, Irish country bread, potatoes, and a pint of Murphy's Stout; but I've already paid for it. Pegi can cover for me, she'll be in town because some of her girls are Celtic dancing in the parade. Rain, of course, in the forecast. I brought in a goodly pack tonight: juice, Greeks yogurts, a dozen eggs in the off hand from my walking stick. Walking stick, how could I forget? I was walking out this morning and a dog attacked me. I don't think that's too strong a word, it was displaying it's teeth and growling and inching toward me. I stuck my walking stick down his throat. I use different mop handles as walking sticks, today it was the aluminum one, with a ferrule at the end, to reinforce things at the business end, and I didn't kill him, or even seriously damage, but he will never attack me again. I was already reaching for my knife, you don't want to fuck with me on the driveway. I stop eight or seven times to look at something, This time of year, there is always something to see. Some color, at last. At least. We're so dramatically involved. The way it conjugates.