There are those days on which I have to admit that I just might forget the occasional thing. Mostly, where I left my phone.
This morning, after planning on sleeping in, I was awake before six anyway. My bed is wonderfully cozy, my covers warm, the rain (yes! Rain!) is falling outside my window. And I am awake. Coffee would be good. Peet’s would be better, but rain? No, I don’t need to get wet to make a cup of coffee. We have a good coffee maker. Which I did and even thought about using the foamer to add a nice touch.
After dumping the last of the half&half and cleaning out the steamer, I made my second run at café-au-lait. This time with milk which was reasonably fresh, even accounting for the fact that it was the last portion in the container. Armed with coffee, I head to the living room to settle in to stitch. But I need my phone. It is not in the kitchen, not in the living room. And not in the bedroom after taking it apart twice without waking George.
Giving up, I head back into the bedroom once more and grab my iPad which will take decent pictures in a pinch. There are four steps down from the bedroom to the entry hall, then another two into the living room. As I go to sit down, I notice a bit of pressure from my right, rear jeans pocket.
Just like on the ship, I had tucked my phone into a pocket…..