Peter Dinklage Peter Dinklage Peter Dinklage

Morning. It’s been a long morning so far. I’ve been up, on and off, since about 3:40. First it was just to get up and pee, then I had a slight stomachache, then I was just trying to get comfortable. Suddenly, I hear something falling and spilling. I fly out of bed. I think it’s around 5ish at this point. I can’t find anything, and suspiciously, the cats are no where to be found. I thinking Chaucer was asleep on the bed, and when Pippin jumped down off the shelf in the bathroom, the allergy pills took a tumble. I think I got most of them.

I climbed back in bed, got comfortable. That’s when the nightmares started. I remember them, mostly. I couldn’t recognize where we were, but we were there, with other people that I didn’t know. And in that crowd that’s when I found out Crystal was leaving. And had already divided all the stuff, and was leaving.

Good times.

Luckily, that’s not the case and when I woke up, she was still next to me, sleeping. And all the kittens were snuggled up on the bed, which also explains why I could pull the blanket up this morning. I couldn’t figure it out at the time.

So yeah, we’re awake. We have coffee, and the kittens have been fed. Chaucer is snuggled up in between us, and Pippin is looking out the back door. Chores will be started in a little while. I don’t know if we’ll be picking apples this afternoon, but I do know I’ll be taking up my position at the bbq to this afternoon and cooking steaks.

I think I need more coffee.