I spent Memorial Day weekend on the banks of the Nueces River. It’s the river that runs through my life. It’s a beautiful river made even better for the memories generated along its banks.

Last year I let my little Tif yard get away from me. It’s really the only bit of manicured grass I have. It was planted at the behest of my late wife.

Had a conversation the other day with a friend who had a tough year in 2022—lost his dad and suffered with long covid. He’s feeling better now, and we talked about that journey to better.

I debated talking about this, but in the spirit of openness here goes. This past weekend, I saw a picture of myself that I liked, where I thought I looked normal and happy. I was excited.

It’s nice to know we’re heading into June with 60 degree mornings. I’d like to send an official thank you to New Mexico and everyone to the northwest for sharing their cool air with us. Keep up the good work…

Yesterday was project day. I finished installing new LED light fixtures in the utility room, replacing the old fluorescents after one of them died.

Once upon a time I dug up a coral sage from along the fence opposite my house. I transplanted it beneath the big oaks in my front yard. It was touch and go for two years.

I recently bought a small painting. It’s a picture of an old barn. I hung it in a bare spot on the wall between my fireplace and my entertainment center.

It’s 55 right now and I’m to expect a high of 55. So, at this very moment my day is not going to get any better in terms of the weather, or at least the temperature portion of it.

I went outside to a fine mist this morning. No telling how long it’s been falling. The drive is wet. So is the ground. It might rain all day.

There’s frost on the ground and a chill in the air, but the temperature will rise into the seventies today. Spring might be on the way. I think I’ll walk around and inventory the bluebonnets.

We’re here. Gruene. We want to be there. Red River New Mexico. We are gathered together in the name of music. Bags are packed. We’re ready to go. Nearly. Weather is the issue.

The odd thing about funerals is that sometimes it’s the only place you get to see all of your family together. It happened that way Saturday as we marked the passing of my brother-in-law.

It’s a moist morning. Fog. Low hanging clouds. We get a west wind later today. And our fire danger goes up. I was hoping for a wetter winter. But hope when it pertains to the weather is just that.

A weird thing happened on the way to spring. I took down the Christmas decorations. Packed them all away. The cleaning lady came. Presto. My house went from Christmas bright to being a clean, well lit place…

Yesterday was a good day. All the Christmas decorations are down. Most of them are stored in the attic. I worked until I lost the light. And you lose the light early these days.

Christmas is officially over. January 6, the holiday’s 12th day is past. I have turned off the outside lights, and I’m starting, today, to dismantle the tree and take down decorations.

We near the end of the ninth year for these little essays. It is a record setting year, and it’s not quite done.

The Christmas cards are arriving in a fairly steady stream. I left space for them on the pie safe with the angels. We used to have fancy hangers to display the cards, but they’re long gone. I know not where or why.

Grocery shopping would be okay except for all the people. My heart sinks when the parking lot is full. And it was full yesterday. I knew my trip to pick up a few things would be the victim of the holiday shoppers picking up lots of things.