Coffee, tobacco and a besotted dog...

2017, February the 8th, a workbench Wednesday which will leave no room to even pick up a chisel in the workshop.  It was a long night, it's an early tomorrow.  The, no longer so small, four-legged friend needed quite a bit of time to wake up out of her anesthesia, was occasionally panicky waking up and still walks besotted around in the house.  While thousands of people in Groningen were united during a torchlight demonstration, to express their displeasure about the degrading practices of the large gas suckers and earthquake producers, on the lonely Hill it turns out that the last cup of coffee from last night actually is the first coffee of today, and that the lunch we had yesterday at the kitchen table, at nearby living friends, was the last solid food was so far.  It promises to become a busy day with work outdoors, the reining in of the movements of the dog, the administration of antibiotics and, above all, a short stop at the fuelstation to get a few packs of tobacco, the tension about the outcome of such a procedure and the nervous hours there after, is asking for lots of stress reducing nicotine.  While some memo from the Palace of Pig Paradise seem to suggest that the Boar of the pact is on the long list for the Nobel Prize in literature, because of his innovative poems of 140 letters, the sawdust maker takes over the next shift of the security service from his wife who took care of the early nightly hours.  In a few hours, the car will be loaded with a shopmade structure, some tools and a shopping bag.  Of to do some delivery and work, but first a pitstop at the fuelstation to top up the stock of tobacco, they do have a great coffee machine to , it’ll all be fine. ...