Woke to the sound of rain this morning. It’s still coming down, in a slow, measured pace. And it’s a cold rain, which makes little difference to the ground or the bluebonnets in the back pasture, and they are profuse. It’s water and everyone is glad to see it. I doubt however, it will do much for the lakes, but if we get a day of it, slow and steady, it will help the rivers and creeks because it will feed the springs.

Lucky me. I did some driveway repair the other day, filled in a low spot by the gate and scooped out the old rain channel on the low side of the drive. It appears the water is in the prescribed channel, and that’s good. I might bundle up here in a bit and get a closer look. But I hate being wet and cold, and there’s nothing much I’ll be able to do anyway. So, I guess I’ll just watch and wait and haul dirt when it’s needed and the skies are clear, later on today or tomorrow.

Of course, rain means a day inside. I think I have enough things to do. I can always plan. I have a short trip this weekend and a long trip next week. The short trip is to see the granddaughter do more track, and the next day I’ll attend a memorial service for my brother-in-law, who passed recently. They say as you get older funerals become your chief entertainment. Starting to feel that way. The long trip is to Red River, a place of salvation for me last year. No idea what this year will bring. All I know is, you can never attend the same party twice. But when you’re surrounded by friends there’s always a chance something good will come of it. And I will be surrounded by friends.

John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale