It's Sunday at 6:24 am. I've been up about an hour. I've cooked breakfast and had a lot of coffee. It's 56 degrees right now and the high isn't expected to reach 80, so hopefully fall is here at last. I have the windows open and the ceiling fans going. Bruce and Amelia are fascinated by the trees right outside my front windows and they are sitting, side by side, on the window sill, sniffing the breeze and watching the outside world.
It's another restless weekend. Much pacing and an inability to concentrate. I'm still reading short stories and non fiction. Just don't seem to be in a novel kind of mood. It's to be expected. Autumn has traditionally brought out the wanderlust in me. I'll just have to fight it for now.