Woke Up, Got Out of Bed, Dragged a Comb Across My head

Crawled out of bed this morning, checked my phone to find it was 9:10.

Are you fucking kidding me? 9:10?

I usually wake up around 6 or 7 when we are up here. Is this what feeling relaxed is all about?

The ocean is gentle this morning. Last night it was crashing into the surf loudly and beautifully chanting "change of scenery, change of perspective.Think. Think. Think."

This morning the message is "you are only human. Be gentle with yourself. Move slowly. Take it all in. Make change an easy going and natural thing. Do not fight it. But do it. Just do it. I will be here forever.You however, will not."

My relationship with the sun has changed. The sun is a violent and evil enemy now.

At this time of day the sun is right in our faces on the porch. Used to be I would be sitting out there right now, writing, and digging on the sheer beauty and power.

Right now I am sitting on a chair just inside the door looking out at what is around.

Strange feeling. I have always loved the feel of the sun on my skin and in my bones. But that is to be no more, for the most part. Because I cannot stand slathering sunscreen on my body.

Later today I will compromise. We will sit on the beach and I will be covered with the stuff. Also wearing my very cool wide brimmed white hat to protect my fragile eggshell mind. (Hat that I bought up here a few years ago).

Still, I got the ocean. Always the ocean.

Birds, dogs, kids, warmth.

I have Carol. Right here with me in this low rent paradise that we dig so much.

Time for breakfast.

Gotta run.