Every hour on the hour

What does an unemployed, childless, unidentified female with no need for employment, children or identification do everyday? Of course, that's what everyone wants to know because the premise is so ripe with possibilities. What doesn't she do, should be the question.

In the two hours since last writing, I have sewn a skirt and played drums. When was the last time you did either of those things?

In the spirit of being a day ahead, I'll give you a jump on the day. This morning was lovely and sublimely sunny. Remember, it's winter here, and that means the sun is still low in the sky. Despite the seasonal challenge, I still got a face full of it upon waking... yes, with that gasp of Friday. On Fridays, I tutor at the prison. My student is a young man from Samoa. I don't know why he's there, and I don't care to know. Today, we worked on possessive pronouns and he told me stories in complete sentences about rugby.

I got those shots, one in each arm, even without the sweet incentive.

I wrote some stuff, but nothing that you can see.

I played on the beach with my dog. The beach is on a bay and the bay is crystalline on calm days. Today, the swell rushed the waves at the jetty and the spray caught the sunlight over the rocks to make elusive rainbows. When the waves break, the water pulls up the sand and churns it over. A big wave will rise above the stirred sand and peel with the wind tickling its peak. The long clouds sweep past the sun and shadows run along the surface of the water; blue turns to green then to jade then its clear again and I can see the gold sand bar swirling under the swell. I spend a lot of time on the beach with my dog. She goes wild, and so do I.

And that brings me to my next issue. My dog is cute and very good with a stick. Thanks to my free time, I have a dog who can do almost anything with a stick but throw it to herself. If I needed to list achievements of the last 8 months, the stick skills of my little black creature dog would be mentioned with a wee bit of pride. Little dog can perform with confidence each of the following important stick skills: 1) find a suitable stick; 2) bring that suitable stick to me; 3) drop that stick at my feet and wag; 4) get really excited about the upcoming toss; 5) sit though she is really excited that the toss is now imminent; 7) keep sitting as I try to fake her out; 8) know when the stick actually leaves my hand; 9) go get the stick with gusto, even in the ocean; 10) (and this one is NEW!) find the stick in the water after a wave gobbles it up; 11) bring it to me with a wag; 12) drop it at my feet; 13) pick it up and chase after me if I decide to wait a bit before tossing it again!

What about those skills? Those skills are hardcore impressive. Really, whose dog but this dog can do all that? I am particularly impressed with her stick-finding as noted in (1) and stick-maintaining as described in (13). She won't abandon a stick, even if I bow out of the tossing role. She'll keep the stick, knowing that I will eventually come back to the game. I don't want to say it's totally innate because I would like to have some responsibility for this talent. I also want to have it to point to should I have to get into that employment scene again and need fodder for the interview. For anyone who wants me to give credit where it is due, I absolutely credit my doggity diggity dog with discovering the best method for conquering the beanbag. That one is all her.

From the beach, I drove home. At home, I painted. Poorly. Then I started this whole fiasco. Look out.

So far, right, it's not so mundane, huh? The life of the willfully unemployed may have its attributes after all.