Piscator
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- May 30, 2003
- Posts
- 1,898
3-8
Sunday Morning
I carefully pour the final cup of
coffee from the six-cup press pot
we share, just avoiding the dregs.
A lazy morning, cinnamon buns
and grapefruit, with the sun
streaming in reminding us that the
apple tree should be sprayed with
Dormant oil before the buds break
(bit of an oxymoron there), last
year’s compost turned into the garden,
early seeds planted and my red Bianchi
taken for a ride if the tires will hold air.
Spring devotions and not a palm in sight.
Sunday Morning
I carefully pour the final cup of
coffee from the six-cup press pot
we share, just avoiding the dregs.
A lazy morning, cinnamon buns
and grapefruit, with the sun
streaming in reminding us that the
apple tree should be sprayed with
Dormant oil before the buds break
(bit of an oxymoron there), last
year’s compost turned into the garden,
early seeds planted and my red Bianchi
taken for a ride if the tires will hold air.
Spring devotions and not a palm in sight.