Yesterday, The Monkey was sick-
and he doesn't go to daycare on Fridays anyhow-
which in our world translates to Mommy-Monkey time at the studio.
He spent most of the morning working on his chalkboard.
Actually it's *my* chalkboard,
but he can't be convinced of this.
I tend to use it for my 86 list-
something I've adopted and used since my days
as a waitress at The Shiny Diner.
Now I 86 things like flux and wire and packaging tape.
He takes his chalkboard sketching very seriously.
I ask him what he's working on and he tells me,
in a rather Rosy-ish tone,
"I'm working. I can't talk right now."
We had taken the board down from its place on the brick wall,
on his insistence that he be able to draw close to Wilbur.
THIS, people . . .
is a water sprinkler.
He was subdued today so getting work done was fairly simple-
Wilbs does most of the babysitting.
Banjo naps at my feet.
We each had our respective canine lover for the day.
But boy, oh boy, do boy and dog stick together.
Where Wilbur goes, The Monkey goes.
Couch, to chair, and back again.
I think the dog wanted peace.
Or maybe just the ability to breathe.
The Monkey just wanted to snuggle.
Good day here,
despite the rain and the bitter air.
It's warm in the studio.
Happy Friday, friends.