The 17th day of the fifth month of the year of Emergence

Skip's early! 4:12 am!

I have no clue as to why I am awake, but the Ambien has worn off and it is time for the Pike Place Roast to kick in.  The coffee named for the first Starbucks store at Pike Place in Seattle, opened in Washington State in 1971.  It's where it all started for them back in the day.  I took my cup out on the porch just to watch the steam rise in the brisk air.  No such luck, only sixty degrees outside so I had to settle to lay my nose on the edge of the cup to get the first wafts of aroma.  Sorta like a wine taster....smell it, sniff it, savor it, swrill it, taste it....then spit it out.  God what a waste.  I suppose if I were Jack London and it were the Klondike in mid may back in 1897 I could see the steam rising from the cup.  But alas I am not and it's not, so I will just have to put up with the double rations of caffeine Starbucks serves up in each cup.  (That's the way they get u hooked you know.....urban legend)

I do have to tread quietly so as to not wake the animals residing here in the kennel in which I live.  In turn that allows my better half at least another hour of sleep.  Fortunately our early warning system (the cockateal) still recognizes "dark" and the chawawa is soundly buried in the folds of our bedding.  That is a good thing because between the two of them they posses the brain power of a good sized Lima bean.  The third four part of the triumvirate, Missy just knows that I am stupid to be awake at this hour and in turn ignores me completely.  You know the same Missy that chases thunderstorms to exhaustion.  Hers and mine.

It should be noted that yesterday's excursions to the doctor (for me) and the vets (for Missy), report that both of our septic systems are in fine working order.  She may continue eating cat crap in the back yard and I can continue to attempt to kill myself with way to many high fat foods, too few twigs and bark, and too little red wine.  I think that if I could drink two glasses of red wine each night like the French, then I might also get arrested in a $3000 a night hotel in New York City for doing the illegal nasty with a house maid.  But then I guess when you have too much money, you end up doing even more stupid stuff than I've done in my life.  Me, I just have to live long enough to be recognized as being old as an excuse for my behavior.  If all this is TMI, just deal with it.  I still have another two hours before anything stirs around here.

I want to thank my good friend Ethel for inquiring about my health after reading yesterdays blog.  Good friends are where you find them and this lady is one of those good finds.  She thinks that I am a moron, but still likes me.  Hey, is that a friend or what?  I know that there are dozens more that just didn't have the chance to read yesterday's missive, so to soothe your rabid concern.....everything is OK!  And thanks in advance for your thoughts.

I have included a new image which is a portrait of a yellow rumped myrtle warbler.  I call him the "Wigged-out Warbler".  First because of the stare and second because he is all puffed up to show just how mean he can be.  That is until he detects movement, then he's gone faster than you can spell yellow rumped myrtle warbler.  Or as they say in the Islands, that's a grey, white, and yellow bird Mon!

You all have a good day, the 18th is coming.