hoarse rooster

There’s a rooster outside our bathroom window this morning.

He’s there every morning, but this morning, he’s hoarse.

He gave a couple of feeble crows and then must have gotten tired or something, because he stopped trying.

That’s OK….I don’t need him to wake up at 5.

I can handle that on my own.

We mowed yesterday….here and over at “the property”.

Of course, every mower and big truck that I was involved with broke in some fashion…..pull cords, water filled float bowls….bad and neglected batteries.

But….in spite of all the breakdowns, we got a lot of work done.

I like it when I get something done.

It seems like a lot of days, I feel like I’m just wondering, “WHAT DO I DO NOW?!!” ….in some subdued and covertly frantic way.

Jenny says that I’m like Barney Fife….nervous.

I was a lot cooler when I didn’t really have any responsibilities.

I was cooler when I didn’t know anything about the world.

What a hoarse rooster I am ….now.

About Peter Rorvig

I'm a non-practicing artist, a mailman, a husband, a father...not listed in order of importance. I believe that things can always get better....and that things are usually better than we think.

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