So tired this morning, was I, that I poured cereal in the coffee filter.
And this is what I had to look at while I was attempting to wake up with the assistance of my mug of coffee.
Made sans cereal.
People wonder why I am so unbalanced.
Look what I have to live with.
Last evening, around 8.45 pm I said to Stephen that if I didn't get out of the house, more specifically, if I didn't get out of the kitchen-where-we-now-live-and-work-and-almost-sleep, I was going to crack.
Mentally.
Not physically.
That would leave a terrible mess.
We went downtown for a walk along the river.
Of course, it wouldn't be us if we didn't have children who were willing to take advantage of an opportunity for a drive somewhere.
We stopped and picked up Mer, who jumped into the back seat with Pookie and off we went downtown.
But once we got there, they went their way.
And we went ours.
Dealing with me when it's humid is one thing.
Mer. . .
One of us would be floating in the Saint John River this morning.
Even at 9.00 pm, sun on it's way down for the day, it was excruciatingly humid.
We parked behind the Fredericton Public Library and started our walk at the overpass walkway.
The one built by the city to prevent foot traffic running across four lanes of traffic in an attempt to get to the river trails.
I hadn't been on the overpass for a long time.
And at the end, noticed, probably for the first time, that the supports for a no-longer-existing-bridge-to-the-northside were still there.
Home to all sorts of birds.
I was really trying to get a picture of the teenaged couple making out at the end of the overpass.
Obviously, I wasn't successful.
The trail along the river dotted with people just like us, hoping for some respite from a hint, a modicum of breeze that may just blow off the river.
There was a little.
Not much.
Just enough to whisper across your brow and remind you of days of yore when glorious, magnificent breezes blew from the river, refreshing and welcoming.
Having not been on this trail for a while, I noticed all sorts of new things.
Stone benches upon which to place bottoms to ensure the resting of tired feet.
Views of the other side of buildings I normally only see from Queen Street.
The lighthouse, where yoga happens every Wednesday evening.
So we know where I'll be on Wednesday evening this coming week.
This trail takes you behind the Beaverbrook Art Gallery and the Marion McCain Atlantic Gallery.
Where all sorts of odd and interesting things can be seen.
I don't know what it is.
But I thought the stone shell was really neat.
And of course, statues are a must on any walkabout.
As are these newly installed placards of people most people either don't know about, never heard of, and don't really care about.
Finally at the bridge, we were able to catch a bit of breeze.
From the biker driving past us at furious speeds.
Probably hoping to cool themselves down by their sheer effort of peddling through the slogging, oppressive humidity.
At the same time, I was able to get some very nice pictures of the river at night.
I was really enjoying being outside, even in the humidity.
But Stephen, Captain Practical, had been keeping an eye on the sky and had noticed several instances of lightening.
He claims he heard thunder.
And drew my attention to the foreboding clouds hovering above us.
Signals of more thunder and lightening rain storms in the very near future.
Being married to Captain Cautious, means that when he decides its time to leave to avoid being struck by lightening, you leave.
Because listening to the bitching and complaining just isn't worth it.
We walked back through the city.
Queen Street, by the Fredericton Playhouse.
Which is currently offering The Bricklin.
Something about a car.
And, as Stephen gleefully, joyfully pointed out, tossing aside momentarily his Captain Cautious cape, there was a Bricklin parked in front of the Playhouse.
Apparently, ugly cars trump being struck by lightening any day.
And when we returned to our car, sitting behind the library, there were two little imps sitting on the curb.
Mer and Keith.
Who apparently decided it was better to wait for us to eventually return than it was to walk home.
Keith was carrying a growler (I think that's what it's called) of Picaroons melon something or other.
Which apparently holds 5 Picaroons beers and he just didn't want to carry it all the way home.
Imagine my delight at seeing the two of them sitting on the curb in front of the car.
I actually heard them before I saw them.
Mer does have the kind of voice that carries.
Fredericton, as is much of the country I suspect, is under a heat and humidex warning.
Keep young children and the elderly inside.
I had planned on taking my mother out for a meander around downtown, but we've rescheduled for tomorrow, when the high is 24 and the humidex has f***ed off for a few days.
Imagine the tales I'll have to tell taking my mother downtown.
And this morning, after depositing Emily and Meredyth at Empire to peddle their labour power for minimum wage, I am taking Tikka for a bath.
U Wash Dog Wash.http://www.uwashdogwash.com/home/
The heat and humidity have only brought into sharp relief her pungency.
Plus her nails need to be trimmed.
Knots and mats need to be removed.
And it's just me and Tikka.
As Stephen and Pookie are male bonding at Kent Building Supply http://www.kent.ca/kbs/en/index.jsp over tower fans and foam pipe insulators.
I haven't spent alone time with Tikka in a while, so it'll be quite pleasant.
For me, anyway.
Later, Stephen and I are FINALLY going to bask in the air conditioning of the Harriet Irving Library, open today from 1-5, and then, to the nursing home for our usual Saturday evening fare of beans and homemade brown bread, coupled with a visit with Mum.
And her tower fan.
Just another relaxing Saturday in the life of Stephen and Dawne.
Title Lyric: Walking After Midnight by Patsy Cline
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