After Saturday night's storm, Sunday couldn't have been more perfect weatherwise.
I parked myself under the wisteria with an interesting non-fiction read that I have renewed at the library for the third time. It's fascinating, but I can't or don't sit down long enough to just read a good chunk of it. If you're curious, it's called Occult America: The Secret History of How Mysticism Shaped Our Nation by Mitch Horowitz. I was familiar with a lot of the material he covers, but I really like how he puts it all together and shows a real chronology of the history of faith in America in all of its complexity.
Honey came out and joined me for a cuddle on the chaise for a bit, as Mr. Cynic mowed the front yard. Then Honey went in and woke up Toots from her nap. She came out for a cuddle with me, too.
Toots then got busy playing all over the yard with her daddy and I looked at the wisteria's wild dreadlocks, and decided to tame them a bit. I got out the ladder and string and started climbing and pulling at vines. While I was up there, someone came to chat, kind of.
Captain Comic: Hi Mom. What are you doing?
Mom: Hey Buddy, I'm fixing the wisteria. Whatcha been doing this afternoon?
Captain Comic: Stuff.
Mom: What kind of Stuff?
Captain Comic: Supercool Stuff you wouldn't understand.
Mom: What kind of supercool stuff - drawing comics?
Captain Comic: Groan growl.
And he circle paced around once more and headed toward the trampoline from where I heard squeaks and jumps as I went back to the business at hand.
The wisteria on the fence is still a bit wild, but at least she doesn't look like Coolio circa 1994, or Weird Al Yankovic, for that matter. She smells a lot better, too, I bet.