Sunday, June 12, 2011

Rain and Pink toenail polish

It's Sunday night and I'm sitting on my back porch, drinking coffee, and listening to the rain fall on the tin roof. At least I think it's tin. Maybe aluminium. Either way, you get the idea. It's the perfect closing to a perfect weekend. Or is it a perfect beginning to a start of a new week? I've never quite known where Sundays fall on that great theological divide. Is it the end of a week, culminating in rest or the beginning of a new, the symbol of new life and creation? Heaven knows.

At any rate, all this perfection brings to mind one person and one person only: the great Norman Rockwell. Did you know that Norman Rockwell got divorced? That's like saying Cinderella doesn't get Prince Charming. We're all doomed.

I think I was going to a happier place with the whole Rockwell stream-of-consciousness, but now you know what happens when I try to write on the back porch during mosquito season in mid-June. Things turn ugly.

So I'll leave you with this (because I wrote the title first and I'm too lazy to change it. Stupid, stupid writer's folly): as of last night I have pretty pink toes which means the summer season is officially kicked off. And each time I look at my toes, I get a little happy flutter inside. Like a love flutter. Except it's for my toes.


running shoes said...

maybe your future love will have a thing for your pink toes too.

miss you and enjoy the start to your week or the rest from your week.

AmandaE said...

I so wish I had time for a pedicure before leaving for CO in the morning. Sadly, I haven't actually packed anything yet...