It sits shiney quiet, small blue flame running underneath it. Then slow bubble, growing, whirring, until you hear the hiss of the liquid hitting hot metal, and finally impatient completion (clearly I love my coffee too much). . .
But that is also the way I feel after having decided to come home. Now everything I’ve been squirreling away in the nice brainy folds of existance must come out into air and light. And today Spring showers! Not cold, wintery showers; just nice, slightly chilly damp of early Spring.
This weekend Venice. Next weekend Mendy. Weekend after that Shelby. And now I’m reading bios of Michelangelo, which is making me love Leonardo. So much to do, write, read. Bliss.