As usual, it's been too long. Let us return to the Random CD prompt.
Which, if I'm being honest, I should really rename the Random Song prompt. But this is the 39th time I've used it and I am very, very lazy.
Anyway. Pick a song. Randomly. Use its first line as the first line of your poetry or prose. Let your imagination take it from there. Give credit where it's due. You know the drill. If you don't, feel free to click on the label at the bottom of the post to view a whole lot of examples of how this one has gone before.
Back in Kaleden safe and sound. I forgot to mention yesterday that Kat and I took advantage of our visit to Osoyoos to go for a couple's massage, courtesy of a Christmas gift from my parents. It was divine.
This morning Kat's dad and brother and I started work on redoing the bathroom at our place. Well, not the whole thing. We're putting in a new bathtub, which we probably should have done before we moved in, and redoing the tiling around it. The tile board we put up originally was purchased and left behind by the previous resident so we figured we might as well use it.
That was a poor decision.
And one that will be rectified in the coming weeks. It started today, with us taking off all the tile and removing the shower curtain rod and faucets and such. Kat's dad is going to get a plumber in to get advice on the best way to get the tub out (it's going to be a tight squeeze... I was all in favour of going full sledgehammer but I was unable to win the other two over on that one) and how to get the new one in.
It's nice to not be living there while this is getting done. And it'll be even nicer to come home to it being done (though I'll be making at least one trip back just to help with the work).
Penguins and Moonboots by We Were Evergreen
I like looking out at the clouds from a window on a train. White, grey, black, doesn't matter. There's something in the sight of them that brings me a deep calm.
Some folks look up and see shapes or animals or faces. That's not me. Well, there was that one time. But I was seeing a lot of things in all sorts of places that day.
Anyway. I think I appreciate their separateness, their aloofness. The way they float above it all and seem so... unaffected by all that they witness. One gets the sense that, most times, they aren't even paying attention to us.
I need that. My work can devour me if I'm careless. I suppose it's not entirely the fault of my responsibilities though. I do have that sort of personality. Obsessive? Perhaps you could call it that. Focused would be my preference.
Regardless, my time on the train is like a life preserver to an overboard passenger adrift in raucous waters. It reminds me to breathe. That there are things to consider outside of what occupies my life while sitting at my desk. That there is still some humanity residing within my bones.
Or something like that.
Maybe it's just better than making small talk with the vacuous people sitting nearby.