Big Band Jazz Makes For a Late Morning: Why I Need a Cup of Strong Black Tea.

It doesn't feel like my sort of day. I woke up late . . . which keeps throwing me off. John and I went to the Jazz Club downtown last night, and I still have the sound of piano mixed with a little trombone echoing in my head. When I woke up, he was already downstairs spreading marmalade on toast, which I remember thinking was odd because he hates marmalade and I'm always out on a jog before he even wakes up. Told you the day was off. 

I did make it to the market though, ended up getting some honey and boysenberry jam (I had since found that we were out . . . hence John using marmalade). After returning home, I relit in the fire, to warm the house back up from where it was lingering, 48 degrees F and chilly. While waiting for the feel to return to my fingers, I began starting up a side-project that hade been sitting on the back burner since last winter . . . spinning some alpaca wool that I finished dying last year, but never got around to spinning . . . maybe next year I'll actaully get around to making a sweater out of it. Maybe not. 

Anyways, I think I need to go and drink more tea . . . the sounds of big band jazz are coming back in my head. Or maybe it's John putting some music on . . . well, atleast he had the sense to put the tea kettle on as well, I can hear it boiling. Hmmm, maybe not. I think I need a nap.