I grow tired sometimes writing about grief. Partly, I suspect because I think, who wants to hear it all the time. But when you’re writing every day about what you see and what you feel, it’s hard to avoid.

December 7, 1941. Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. The country went to war and set off a chain of events that reached all the way down to touch a young woman in Ohio and a young man in Texas.

Ordinarily, a gray, rainy day might feel cold and somber. But today’s gray, rainy day feels anything but.

Here we are one day before Thanksgiving and my home is nearly completely decorated for Christmas. I’m going to bring down the tree today. I was going to wait, but decided, what the heck. In for a penny, in for a pound.

When things are going well, things are going well. Finished putting up the outside lights yesterday. Strung them on the gate with zip ties, ran them up the drive on little stakes, twelve inches from the edging, 24 inches apart. Well, that was the plan.

Started stringing Christmas lights yesterday. I put up the hard ones. The icicle lights that hang from the gutters. They require a ladder. Boo.

Handed out candy to kids last night. It was fun. Had to drive to a friends house to do it. But it was worth the trip. Got a good meal. A nice drink. And plenty of camaraderie.

Both my teams won yesterday. Collegiate. Professional. I feel good. And I am still at a loss to explain how I missed the Astros in the World Series last year.

Relatively easy drive into Houston. Hard loss to watch with the Astros. Of course, they’ve never won a game one of the World Series, so hope is not lost.

It’s probably time to bring down the cat crates and blankets. Cool weather is beginning to feel like cold weather. Mind you, no one is complaining, but then again, the cats don’t really complain. They just sort of mill around and look at me.

In the beginning, I wrote about the little things. The feel of a breeze. A trail in the grass. A star in the sky. Then one day. I wrote about the big thing.

I set out for Houston yesterday morning with a nice covering of winter gray clouds and a north wind. I like that short light, when you know the sun barely has enough energy to get up over the horizon.

Grapes. I’ve always loved them. In my youth, you only got them when they came into season, and my mother bought green grapes. No idea what variety they were. They were just grapes.

I did it. Fixed my dryer. It took a $25 part, two weeks of waiting, and a YouTube video. I was all set to just buy another dryer. But as I checked out the prices, I thought what’s the worst that could happen.

This is probably getting old, but I have another gate story.

There is something like fall in the air. It is cool outside. It’s a nice way to be greeted in the morning. In addition, I woke up to find my collegiate football team pulled one out late last night after I went to sleep. Good for them.

Helped bury the mother of a friend yesterday. Sad business as always. She left behind a husband of seventy years and a home she’d lived in for fifty-six. An anomalous couple in this day and age of turnover marriages and turnover homes…

Big doings in and around town. Over at the headquarters of the Pedernales Electric Co-operative crews are dressing the trees with lights. Really. They’ll finish in time to turn them on the day after Thanksgiving. Meanwhile, down the road toward Fredericksburg, they’re strangling traffic.

Took a slow walk through time yesterday. Went back to the trail we hiked on Tuesday. This time, rather than turn left and hike along the Piedra River, we turned right and went up the mountain.

Big day yesterday. We took out the trash. Literally. A lot of it. Bulky trash day, which meant all the stuff that had littered the yard and around the house and behind the workroom for about the last five years is now gone.