Bathed in gold we'd plug into some kind of power
and connect with those days back before all of this went sour
-Cowboy Junkies, Come Calling from the CD Lay it Down


Soft dawn light is wandering into the bedroom, drifting from orange to yellow and back again. The ceiling fan pours and occasionally Lisa rustles in her sleep, but everything else seems etched in space, captured by some master artist. I was going to say something snarky about commercials in movies or the hate for our ghetto space shuttle, but it would destroy the mood. It's early Saturday morning and the living is easy.

PS- no, theres nothing sour between Lisa and me, but the soft mood of the song fits the morning.