REFUGE

In this time of sheltering, I was just going to write about my shelter within our shelter, but Stephen did it better. Enjoy.

stephen metcalfe

In my house, my place of escape, refuge, privacy, contemplation and uninterrupted reading is on the toilet.  When the going gets tough, the tough get going and I go to the bathroom.

Excuse me, I’ll say!  I have to go sit for a while!

How can anyone object?

I keep piles of books, periodicals and extra pairs of reading glasses in the bathroom.   Better not to be caught unprepared and have to go back out.   I like magazine articles and short stories.  Both time out well.  Novels are too long and so would increase the risk of hemorrhoids.   Poems aren’t nearly long enough and besides, I’d rather not fall asleep with my pants around my ankles.

Cell phones are barred.   To make phone calls to other people from the toilet seems oddly disrespectful – unless they’re movie agents – and not having a cell phone allows you to not answer…

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Killing me with Coffee

Something different.

This crazy lady I met on the internet asked if I would write something for her blog.  Unlike all the other lifestyle and recipe blogs, she rants and swears with the best of them.  Unlike my bullshit, there's a lot more to her stuff than just anger and insults.

So, I could only hope to put some bullshit together that would fit on her page.  And sadly this is the best I could do.

You can read it on her page:

http://ccorral.blogspot.com/2019/01/killing-me-with-coffee.html