Calm in the Chaos-As long as I can have my coffee

There is this magic metal box off the side of my room that emits heat and I cannot for the life of me figure out where the fuel goes or the flames come out. As if this weren't enough, a lovely gentleman delivered a tray of scrumptious breakfast complete with a giant carafe of coffee right to my door! It might only be a few miles away from home but it's like another world. The soft floral wallpaper envelopes the cosy room and the quilted surfaces remind you that you haven't called your grandmother in way too long. The room, breakfast, the birds singing in the garden outside my window and the feint sound of the ocean lapping at the rocky shore are all just fringe benefits. The true satisfaction comes from knowing that I have 12 hours left of my weekend getaway. Who knows what those hours could throw at me.

After yesterday morning, I've filled my dirty, flaming, flesh wound quota for the month. Not all at once, but over the course of about four hours the trash van, badly in need of a purge, had a little fire inside it, a canine quarrel shook up the yard leaving a deep puncture wound to a hand and some pieces of fur displaced, and once the dumpster on wheels safely arrived, I actually kind of enjoyed the two relaxing hours at the dump sorting weeks of collective debris. While getting splashed in the face with month-old buttermilk juice isn't my idea of fun, at least it's not stressful. The sun was out, the refuse management specialists were friendly and helpful, and the knowledge of a hot shower and open road just on the horizon added up to a pleasant late morning.
Well, I can see the frost making its way into the atmosphere so I should probably follow suit. Whales, wine, horses, and miles of rocky shoreline all possibly await me. The grounds in the bottom of my last cup of coffee are telling me I'm ready for a little adventure.