As the sky turns from misty black to sombre blue....

...I am thinking of my 2nd oldest daughter, slaving away in her cubicle at work.

I too, have a cubicle. It's called the bathroom.

In it I have spent many a happy moment, reading books, separated from the outside world inside my home by a door. A door that almost closes.

This morning I finished another chapter of Angela's Ashes, and I revel in the fact that we actually have indoor bathrooms with toilets that flush, as long as the electricity doesn't go out, which Frank McCourt didn't have, either.

Most of the house is still asleep. I listen to the quiet swish of the dishwasher I have only just started this morning because El Dereko did not put in soap after he did the "quick rinse," last night.

The "quick rinse" is another hardship that must be performed, since the dishwasher rarely gets it right without. This opens the door to forgetting to open the door to put in the soap and run it through the normal cycle.

But again, I don't mind, because people during the depression and the war did not have dishwashers. Some of them didn't even have food.

So it's back to my "Mom's Best Frosted Wheat-fuls" cereal, with the cheery yellow box that shows pictures of eco-friendly windmills. Windmills that could take out a bird or two, but then there would be less to knock down planes and that brings us back to the sky...

...which is now light enough to be cloudy.
 

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