Write four lines of prose about something that has been: refueled.
The threat of thunderstorms remained only that today, a threat. I am thankful for this, as the one that hit last night would have been rather severely unpleasant to work in. Lightning was flashing across the sky every five to ten seconds for an extended period of time.
Kat and the boys are headed to Kamloops tomorrow for a cousin's wedding reception. Becky and Adam and their girls, as well as Kat's parents, will be going as well. I shall remain behind, as I'm working both tomorrow and Sunday.
Which means I shall be the only person on the farm tomorrow night.
I expect to have a good sleep.
And great difficulty getting out of bed Sunday morning.
When we lived in Vancouver I absolutely hated people who smoked cigarettes. Not just when they did it in public, either - if I could smell it on you (particularly on the bus), I was thinking decidedly unpleasant thoughts about you.
Since we've been in Osoyoos that hate has faded though, with the additional space and the general lack of interaction with people who enjoy sucking cancer down their throats.
Now, only nine days into my new job (honestly, it probably only took two or three), having picked up hundreds of cigarette butts in parks and on beaches and in a washroom or two (six in the main washroom this morning alone), it is safe to say that hatred has been fully refueled.