Where Art Thou Charlie?

Ah, Sunday morning – a blessed day in these hallowed halls called Andrew’s house.  It was freezing in my house this morning when I awoke.  I had the air set on 74°degrees.  Brrrrr. That’s about as arctic and cold as it gets around Andrew’s casa this time of the year. I turned the air back up to 80°degrees as Maggie sighed in dismay. That furry little beast loves it cold. A moment ago, I was dancing exuberantly in the den to N.W.A’s Straight Out Of Compton.  Maggie got extremely excited and playful as well. It was contagious.  I had to turn it down, though, as the loud bass of my home theater’s subwoofer was really thumping and the sound of bass, due to it’s nature, carries very far. My orthopedic surgeon neighbor had just went on his morning jog, arrived home, and must have found my loud music intriguing as he passed my house. I am usually the quiet one of the neighborhood. Well, Charlie will be here in the next few hours.  I hope Maggie puts on a really good show for him – it does a heart good. I also really want a sweet and tangy tasting large orange juice this morning so maybe Charlie will deliver on those hopes. Pictured is a common Andrew’s and Maggie’s breakfast every Sunday morning. Maggie just mainly gets a biscuit, though, which she relishes. 9:17am Update! Ah, the Charles Meister has Arrived… So, I am sitting here in front of my computer sipping on my large orange juice and eating my sausage biscuit with mustard...
Source: The 4th Avenue Blues - Category: Mental Illness Authors: Source Type: blogs