Yesterday took me by surprise. The third anniversary of my wife’s death. I thought I was ready. I could see it coming. But I felt good. I was on the move. Getting things done. Planning. Then the day dawned.

Got home late last night from an evening of music and camaraderie. It was cool outside and the moonlight lit the back porch and bathed the pasture beyond in it’s soft light. I didn’t linger long.

I can tell I’m feeling good these days because my mind is swirling with ideas. Things to do. With my yard. With my music. With Gatewood Press. And in addition to swirling, the ideas are actually being put into action.

I feel as though I am once again jacked into the world. Connected. Doing things.

On most mornings I water the plants around my porch with moisture collected in my rainwater drums. I start in the front by the big oaks. Then I move to the new salvia at the end of the house and then on to the back.

The party’s over. It was a success. But the afterglow is fading. I thought it might last longer. But there it goes becoming a thing of the past.

It’s gonna be a good day. It started out that way. I got Wordle in two. It happens less than five percent of the time.

It seems a simple thing. Thursday is trash day. It needs to be on the street by seven a.m. I missed it yesterday as I have missed it many days. My late wife never missed it. Never.

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.