Friday Morning

I was up early, 7am, so not so early, but to be truthful, I am always up early, now a days. Morning seems to have become my thing.

7.30am. Joint and coffee, it is freezing outside.

8am. Joint and coffee, it is freezing outside.

You know, just to ease me into my morning off.

8.38am. Sam saunters on to set like Gina Lollobrigida, (not at all sure where that analogy came from) throwing orders and sweeping down to pick up Bruno’s bowl, before sweeping back inside.

“Honey, honey, honey,” I say. 

“Don’t you honey me. Look at you! First thing in the morning. Look at you! First... thing... in... the... morning."

What gave it away, I think? Was it the eyes? I almost giggle at that thought, but I don’t. Not now. I laugh on the inside.

He's working from home until further notice. (Asbestos scare at work. Hip inner city warehouse conversion. "Everybody get out." That was the answer they got to the investigation of the white dust falling from the ceiling)

So, I have to share my days off. Hopefully he heads upstairs, so I can get back out to the table on the back veranda. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.