December Dreaming

It's a busy time December. Every year I wish I had removed myself to a quiet river somewhere. When I used to think about this, I thought I'd have ABC cricket coverage on softly in the background, but now I can't listen to cricket without thinking about players as major league wankers. Cricket Australia's get to know the players scheme has backfired and we've witnessed some wealthy and depraved ratbags on show. 
I also wanted to be drinking coffee, but now I'm a coffee snob I'm not sure I can provide a decent cup. 
But yeah drifting along watching endless miles of vegetation and varying cloud formations will do the trick. 

 This is my son's dog Cuddy. He's been minded by my daughter while I was on the Camino and we've been reunited. 
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It's after 10:30pm and after a big day landscaping and stacking rocks, I ate and drank as lot before falling asleep. Well as every sixty something guy knows, too  many late fluids mean you're going to be up before midnight. Anyway after waking up to go to the toilet I return to bed, tired but awake. Cuddy is sleeping on the Van Freight (sp) covered with a blanket, and I think the cats are downstairs. I had left the kitchen door open when I went to bed, it was warmish and it was a beautiful night, calm and clear with a slither of Moon. 
   When I get back into bed I dig out a podcast; a rapid talking American woman who wanted to walk the PCT for ten years before starting and is urging others to "not wait"?! She also says: " you will never have enough free time or enough money, so just go". Fair enough.
   Outside as Mopoke calls.

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