Sink or Swim

Here it goes. I'm off. You know that creeping sensation when you first step into a cold swimming pool, or the ocean, or a creek, when the water starts to climb ever-so-slowly up your legs, to the bottom of your swimsuit, across your midriff and, tentatively, much too tentatively, creep up your torso? Well, we'll have none of that here. This is a creep-free work space. Work place? Work? 

I'm more a fan of the quick plunge. Why suffer the agony of the slow merge when full immersion promises such immediate relief? To that end, I'm putting aside formal introductions. No polite "How d' do's?" here. The instant, add water and stir relationship is highly preferable. 

The scent of a blueberry-orange coffee cake, which, incidentally, is taking much longer to bake throughout than the recipe indicated, is wafting up to the second floor office, from where I am writing. The new puppy, Dexter (aka Mr. Ferocious, Noodle, Piggers) can be heard insistently trying to bite the ears of Fly, the 3 year old German Shepherd. The garden needs weeding. The blueberry bushes need planting. I really need to empty out the wheelbarrow. And all I seem to be able to truly focus on is what my dress for my younger brother's wedding should look like. This place holds promise. 

I think the coffee cake is finally done.