negotiations

After the morning patrol — on which a bounty of lucky rabbit’s feet were surveilled — Henny rested comfortably on the deck. Dappled shade and a light breeze offered ideal napping conditions.

Purple pansy juice on her fingers, Typist was summoned to the keyboard by The Trio.

Urania wore the face of a defensive lineman waiting for a football to be snapped. Calliope sipped coffee and nibbled a rhubarb scone. Thalia contorted herself into the shape of a frog on Typist’s Manduka mat.

“Ummm… I thought we agreed Sundays are an off day?” Typist’s posture was submissive — like Henny who rolls right onto her back when greeting Great Dane Duke at the dog park.

Typist isn’t afraid of Urania.

She sees the Task Master Muse as a sheep in wolf’s clothing, who sometimes needs cajoling to remember life is best enjoyed with a little R&R. “Can I get you a scone?”

“No, thank you.”

“Does you coffee need topping off?” Typist asked.

“No.”

“How about some Fox River? Do you want to go kayaking today?” Typist knew how much Urania enjoyed paddling past the paddocks of Thunderbit Stables… horses nickering, dragonflies flitting, and herons taking flight at their approach. “We haven’t been out yet this year… ,” Typist rubbed her palms together. She sensed a softening in the muse who was the driving force behind all forward motion… without her… nary a word would make it to the page.

“Well… now that we’ve completed today’s newsletter… ,” Urania was softening like a stick of butter moved from the refrigerator to a sunny spot on the deck’s railing, “… I suppose a paddle would be nice… before it gets too hot.”

Calliope slurped the last drops from her mug.
Thalia sprang off the yoga mat.
Urania stood and adjusted her sun hat.

Bye-bye!

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If you are wondering why the rabbit’s feet are lucky, it’s because Henny’s leash is always firmly gripped by my fingers. 😂

Sending wishes for a Super Sunday… however you choose to spend it.