muffled

it's very grey out there - a misty sky, an incessant drizzle being blown across the horizon in droves (I love the way you can see the wind, when it's blowing rain), everything is dull and the moving things move as if in slow motion. . .
.

. . .the seagulls are specks of white on the shore and the only colours (bright yellow and the occasional red) come from the rowing boots (eights, fours, pairs and single sculls) on the water - apart from the trees that have yellowing leaves
.

the weather muffles the sounds rising up to me on the eighth floor - the balcony is dry, which means that the wind is not coming from the east (but I know this already - because I can see it bringing rain from the south)
.

almost every bone in my body aches, including - strangely - those of the fingers in my right hand; I read an article about multiple myloma the other day, the cancer that killed my mother, which made me wonder about my aches and pains. . . only wonder, not worry
.

the heating in the apartment is broken, and it is cold so I'm wrapped up in various cardigans and a huge Welsh blanket - bought years ago, when blanket buying was of importance
.

I think about "muffled" sounds and sounds that are "blanketed" by the misty drizzle
.

I think about all the W words - white, water, weather, wonder, worry, wrapped; Welsh; who what where when why which would; warm, work, wish, world
.

weird

.
weird how W is double-u, and doesn't really have a name of its own (I wonder if it does is other languages - it's double-v in French which is the only other one I speak, but perhaps it has its own name somewhere in the world?)
.

I've run out of money, tea, milk, sugar, cigarettes and would quite like a Sunday newspaper, so I think about getting myself together and going to the supermarket where I can use my credit-card
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my hand hurts

.
I'm working on a new etching plate (trees this time, not waves and seagulls or boats) based on some sketches I made in France and postcards I bought which are in my scrapbook, the pine forests and sand-dunes and light coming thru from the distance in between the branches and trunks of the trees
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the only thing I can do to warm myself up properly is take a hot hot hot bath (thank goodness the boiler works)
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time to stop thinking and get on with my day
.

I wonder still about how we each have a mind, and the ID (intelligent design) people claiming that this (the fact we each have a mind) is proof g*d exists; I think about "proof" - and my thoughts wander over to "an artist's proof", and back again to how I can think all these things when my head is really only full of nerves and neurons
.

none of this is helping the fact that I'm cold and achey and want a lovely cup of hot steamy frothy coffee
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and wish I had woken up next to the person I love most in the world
.

would I change anything if I could go back in time? if I knew then what I know now, would I do things differently? what can I do today, now, that will makes things a little better?
..

that's a no brainer

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time for coffee