Lucy needs a walk. Here I sit on the couch tired from work and a game of squash, full from supper with a fire in the stove and the Christmas tree alight. The wind howls around the house. Our heavy chime that is not easily excited has been a constant gong. Duty calls. But I know once she gets me up, inertia overcome, we might see something.
Yesterday's six inches of wet heavy snow is now icy solid. Must not fall down. As we get older we get shorter but the ground gets farther away. How does that happen? Man it's cold. Colder 'n a witches tit in a brass brassiere as they say in .... nevermind, no one says that.
Down the drive to the street where it's clear and we pick up the pace. Clouds on the horizon still seem white despite darkness. Maybe they are reflecting the distant town lights. Above the moonless sky displays countless stars. There's Orion's belt. There's the Seven Sisters. Those girls are faint but for some reason it's one constellation I always find. The wind is a constant drone.
Sorry girl it's too cold tonight. Just down to the stop sign and back to our cozy hearth. And a biscuit. After a walk comes a biscuit. I'm well trained. Punishment for not delivering the biscuit is 20 minutes of mournful staring.