Grey and Dreary

Once upon a Glasgow Dreary, I was sitting (trying to think of something that rhymes with Dreary). OK, I am no Edgar Allen Poe. But, then again, he did not live in Smith’s Grove,Ky. If he had he would have been a much more cheery (hey that rhymes with Dreary) guy. Yes, kit is indeed a horrid grey wet nasty day. It’s damp and cold and icky to look at. And this recipe for morbidness of mind is useless. For when I gaze out through that damp haze at the mud and muck, I see 2 horses grazing and a black heifer calf literally cavorting around in the rain. It is impossible for me not to smile. Actually laughter is mostly guaranteed when you see a calf cavort and be ignored by two horses. Cinderelli, Cinderelli, dance for horses, Cinderelli! And then beyond that dancing cow girl (not to be confused with cowgirl.), right at the top of the rise, I see my Amish neighbors’ homes. And in my minds eye I see them warm and cozy studiously at work staving off boredom just as I am, and I smile even more. This is my home. This is MY home. That’s right. I own it. And as the drizzle falls, and the cold chills, as the mud becomes Muck, and Giovanni sits her watching Scooby Doo on the TV…..I am happy.

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