Having slept with my window slightly open, I awoke this morning to a gentle chorus of finches and the high-spirited calls of jays. There was something else, as well; a pattery ticky-tocky sound. It took me some time to realise, but this was the sound of rain.
The skies are grey, and this is good: for it is Wednesday, the holiest of all days. On Wednesdays, we have no obligations. We are going to the book-store today, and that does not count as an obligation because it is by choice and not a grueling task.
You may recall, dear reader, that I have decided to rid myself of Much Clutter. My mother has adopted an excellent strategy: throw out One Thousand Things. I shall certainly attempt to assist her wherever I can.