Tuesday Morning

It's early morning...everything is still quiet, the house is asleep. I had a dream-filled night, a solid sleep from eleven until five, which is pretty good for me. My daughter arrived last night,  and maybe I sleep better with her in the house.

I've been ridiculously excited about her visit. We got to town two hours early to do some shopping and wait for the airport bus. I hurried forward with exuberance as the bus approached, actually skipped when I saw her familiar profile through the windows among the other passengers slowly moving toward the exit, and I tried to contain an impulse to jump up and down as I waited for her to emerge.

And now she was standing before me.

"You don't have to prance," she said.

Oh well. She allowed me a hug.

The picture above has no relevance to this. It's just a bull I had to get by as I walked along the canyon road the other day. He looked at me but didn't seem particularly concerned, and I managed to slip past him, with trepidation. The cowgirls tell me that the bulls are not a danger as long as I don't bother them. My worry is that I'll come upon one that's just existentially annoyed and ready to take it out on hapless me.

My daughter just came upstairs and made us coffee.  Both of us have work to do, and no particular plans. I just wish it were normal to have her nearby.

It's going to be another breezy day: I can see the leaves outside trembling in anticipation.