Convention of Seagulls

As I left the "in-service" day at the campus this afternoon, the parking lot was just about empty -- except for this meeting of gulls! As I slowly rolled my car to a place where I could possibly get a shot of them, I figured for sure they'd fly, but no not even one lifted a wing. They just stared cautiously as I rolled the window down, positioned the camera, and clicked. They had left the stormy ocean 50 miles west of here to rest on a calm, but wet, college tarmac.

Rain started falling early this morning after I arrived at the campus. Some 35-40 instructors attended the day of workshops. Each instructor must achieve 18 hours of "in-service" time each school year and today accounted for 6 of those hours. Because next weekend is a 3-day holiday because of President's Day on Monday, February 15, today was selected. Next week I'll be in the Writing Center M-Th 8:30-5:30 and then the spring semester begins Tuesday the 16th. My long winter holiday is about over.

Mr. Fun was waiting for me at home, so I made one stop at the Hallmark Store to get a couple of Valentine cards to put into the mail for the grandkids. Then I texted him as I got back in the car to request a hot cup of coffee, and 5 minutes later I was pulling into the driveway. He had the fire glowing and coffee ready. I had been so cold in the campus classroom that we cuddled under a blanket and took an hour nap. Then I prepared a fresh salad, sauted veggies, he fixed his "diet" main dish, I warmed up the half-order of pasta from last night and the feast for 2 was in full swing! Delicious!

So I think Ted Kooser's poem is appropriate here:

Splitting an Order

I like to watch an old man cutting a sandwich in half,
maybe an ordinary cold roast beef on whole wheat bread,
no pickles or onion, keeping his shaky hands steady
by placing his forearms firm on the edge of the table
and using both hands, the left to hold the sandwich in place,
and the right to cut it surely, corner to corner,
observing his process through glasses that moments before
he wiped with his napkin, and then to see him lift half
onto the extra plate that he had asked the server to bring,
and then to wait, offering the plate to his wife
while she slowly unrolls her napkin and places her spoon,
her knife and her fork in their proper places,
then smoothes the starched white napkin over her knees
and meets his eyes and holds out both old hands to him.

from Valentines: Poems
by Ted Kooser

From a rain-wet Southern California,
good night. Have a terrific weekend.
Rosie (& Mr. Fun), aka

P.S. We're not supposed to "sweat the small stuff," but I also think we're suppose to delight in the small things, so I'm just tickled that I addressed the Valentine card envelopes, wrote notes in the cards, tucked in a little monetary surprise, and then put them all in a larger envelope and sent it to the Postmaster in Loveland, Colorado, where the envelope will be opened and the smaller Valentine envelopes will be postmarked specially for Valentines Day and mailed to our grandkids. This is so much fun (now isn't that stupid!).