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Pink Day

Posted on September 29, 2004November 18, 2019 by Paul Armstrong

The coffee is brewing, the final Sumatra beans roasting, the dishes put away and I’m dressed and ready to leave. Not even 7am yet. Quiet. Calm. Today is Pink Day, so wear pink.

I need to remind myself to finish this estimate for a client (keep forgetting, or putting it off rather) and I need to start putting to “paper” the ideas in my head for this new client logo.

I came down to find a small basket in the middle of the family room floor. Just like yesterday morning. Oliver. Our odd cat. All our cats are odd in some manner. Socrates plays fetch and will “talk” with you and suffered from some odd illness when he was one that has left him nerve damaged. Chloe just sits and stares at you, like a statue on the library stairs, has enormous eyes and heart murmur. And our newest, Oliver. He loves to move things at random.

For a time if was our entry way rug. We watched him drag this heavy knitted rug up the stairs then under our bed. For weeks he did this. Now it’s this basket. He’s been watching too much While You Were Out (Evan’s funny) 

Time to wake Abbie up. She usually wakes after I have roasted the coffee. She tells me she can smell it from upstairs, which means she knows I’m up and that it’s ok to come downstairs. Prayers for the day: focus, peace, effectiveness, grace, patience.

++++++++

Damn pink day. Abbie is quite opinionated when it comes to her clothing. Insanely particular. Add to this her need (to obsession) to keep things “the same”. So, it’s pink, she picked out her pink button down shirt and pink skort. We have 4 minutes to go so it’s time to get dressed and go. She flips out. Rips off her shirt, says it feels funny and goes into full blown melt down. Lovely. She’s topless and shoeless and screaming. Needless to say, she was in the car with no shoes and a shirt forced on. Unhappy. But the message was through.

Sometimes you have to do things you don’t like. I hate trash night. Hate it. But I do it (and have been doing it for 25 or so years). I love driving through the thin capillaries of our city, avoiding the clogged veins of highway and patter through towns and squares that outline the city. Peace.

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