A Rainy Saturday Morning

It's a nice, rainy Saturday morning, and I'm sitting at the computer in my Bellefonte apartment. I live here part-time, for a number of reasons: it's much closer to work... Sandie and I need time apart... there's broadband service here and not at home... others.

But this is one of those times I love most: I'm sipping coffee, I awoke about an hour ago from one of the most delicious, deep, perfect sleeps in history. Even my dreams were particularly pleasant and well-crafted: coherent plot, well-defined characters, with just the right touch of dream fantasy and subtle humor. Oh, yes, my dreamwriters did a superlative job. It was such a good sleep that I feel I should have dressed better for it.

I hope I can see Abby The Niece this afternoon. I have a feeling that maybe her father, the Loudmouth A-hole may be trying to keep her away from me. I might mention Harry Potter to her and that, of course, would send her straight into a satanic cult. Oh, haven't I mentioned the delightful Abigail and her evil paternal unit? The idiot is the husband of my wife's simple sister. And when I say "simple" I mean in the... uh... capacity for understanding department, ifyaknowwhatImean.

Well, it doesn't seem like a great time to begin the story just yet... I'm in too mellow a mood, and I'd like to keep it that way. But stay tuned, and soon I'll get you up to date. My friends frequently ask me for updates about the frothing jackass who married my sister-in-law and sired the world's most wonderful niece... and I think perhaps this might be just the safety valve I need so I don't actually veer off the road and run over him next time I see him in his front yard. That, and the fact that I just don't think I'd do too well in prison.

More later.