This is what I call winter. It’s 36 outside. We could still use some rain, and I have no idea if any is in the immediate forecast. At this point, I’m pretty sure I don’t care. It will come when it comes, and I’ll know it when I look outside and see it falling or wake up and find it has fallen. Either way, we’ll be good. All the plants that might care are dropping their leaves and retreating underground. Sounds like a fine strategy. Makes me wish I was a bear.

I tell you what, I sleep better when it’s cold outside. Always have. Got a solid seven last night. And right now, at this very moment, Mama Cat is perched on the back of the couch getting ready for her 12-hour dose of sleep. I have no idea what she does all night, but it must be fun, because she always comes in exhausted. Maybe there’s a local cat bar somewhere close. I did notice she chased after the skunk last night. Well, not chase. The surveillance camera caught the skunk and minutes later Mama Cat. That could be what they call a coincidence.

Anyway, given that a pleasant day seems in store, it might be time for me to get back in the yard and finish my dirt turning project. I got half-way through and sort of lost interest or motivation. Take your pick. At this stage of my life, I’m pretty sure I won’t be harshly judged for unfinished projects, partly because there’s no one around to judge. And I can’t imagine St. Peter saying, I’d let you in, but you didn’t get the mulch down. Although, you never know where the path to heaven lies, despite all the people pointing and shouting, saying, it’s this way.