Saturday Grouch

It is day 14 of Two Writing Teachers' March Slice of Life Challenge to write every day in March.  I'm late today, but I had to finish my poem for Ed DeCaria's March Madness Poetry 2015 Tournament.  I'm in for the second bout.  Unfortunately for me, I'm up against Renée  LaTulippe!  I am shivering in my boots, and not because it's started to storm again!

And though it is not an official "ending ch word day" over at Heidi Mordhorst's My Juicy Little Universe...

Grouch

I'm really trying to be calm, but I can't find my sock.

I thought it was still early morn, but just look at the clock.

It's getting late, no poem done and now the storm begins -

I'm walking backwards all day long, on needles and on pins.

I need a break from nothing done, I need to stop and rest.

I've sat behind this glaring screen and tried to do my best;

But now the puppy has a shoe, and I must stop and scold -

I think the fire needs a log, the house is getting cold.

Don't mean to grouch!  What attitude!  Put on a big, ol' smile,

And maybe that will change my mood in just a little while.

This smile "becomes" my attitude, I'm happy it's in charge.

Where is that chocolate ice cream? This smile deserves a large!

I'm in a full, full Starbucks.  Conversations everywhere.  Chairs scrape on the tiled floor as tables empty and fill.  Doors suck open and clunk shut.  Espresso machines whir and spoons clatter on metal.  Laughter from the staff.  Water spray whooshing.  I've heard "Sorry about that!" twice in less than a minute.  The clipping of a woman's shoes as she passes by tells me she has manicured nails...I can tell by her shoes.  Most people here have soft soled shoes and worn hands, or boots and young student hands.  The music has subsided and I can no longer hear it.  It was loud and blaring jazz when we got here.  I told my husband when we settled into the leather chairs with our computers that is was the most irritating music.  I don't know though.  I think I've heard worse.  It just isn't good music to write with as it stomps into my brain.  I tried to keep it out.  It finally stayed out, because I don't even remember hearing that they turned the music way, way down.  There is just a vague, hint of music difficult to discern with the rattle of cups and closing of the cooler door.

My poem is done.  We are getting ready for another storm.  There's flooding on our road to the island.  We will have to see if it's passable tomorrow.  We may be marooned on an island.  That sounds like fun.  Wood fire, hot chocolate, popcorn, Shepherd's Pie, ice cream...wait this is getting to be a list of food... warm puppy, curled up cat, computer time, a bit of tv or some cribbage if we lose power.  It's supposed to be heavy, wet snow.  Those are the storms in which we lose power.  When that happens we sit for a bit and ask ourselves "why?"  Has a tree come down and taken out wires?  Or did someone not make that treacherous corner and hit a pole?   We haven't had that much heavy snow this winter, and haven't lost power.  Amazing.  This storm is ice first, snow second, warmish temps - not a good combination for our little community by the sea.

I guess I have a slice.  I think it's time to go home slowly and carefully.