I’m washing windows. It started when I had several replaced last week. The new glass made the old glass look dingy. So, I mixed up a batch of homemade window cleaner, pulled out the old microfiber rag, and got after it.

Several weeks back my good work gloves went missing. Now that sounds like they took off on their own. The truth of the matter, however, is I misplaced them. Don’t ask how. I don’t know. I had them. Then I didn’t.

Another brisk morning. There’s the smell of smoke from my neighbor’s woodburning stove. A little clutch of deer is grazing along the fence. The first hints of traffic are moving down highway 290. The air is clear, and a waning moon is hanging in the western sky.

The winds are restless. They blew yesterday and they’re blowing hard today. Somethings up. I hope it’s a big weather event. That would be nice.

I had an insight yesterday. Shared it. Got a good response. Lots of compliments. Terrific ego boost. I would like to follow up with something equally thrilling today. There’s only one problem…

I’m on schedule to miss Thanksgiving and Christmas with my family. Too much risk for these old bones. I’m sure I’ll be argued with, and there’s probably some sort of risk aversion analysis to prove I’m being overly cautious, but I’d rather hear Ruthie Foster sing about when death comes knocking than actually have it happen.

It is hard to type with a cat in your lap. But when its just you and the cat, the cat gets attention. No complaints really, it’s actually nice. Mama Cat comes in for breakfast and starts wanking at me until I pick her up.

There is no time to waste. It is just past 6 a.m. I have to be in Boerne at 9, which means I have to leave the house by eight. That gives me an hour, less now, to write this, publish, eat breakfast and dress.

Went looking for beauty yesterday. Needed to flush some adrenaline from my system. Started on the back porch in the morning.

Went to the doctor’s office yesterday for bloodwork. Didn’t need it. Got a flu shot instead along with an exchange of words with a patient who thought it was none of my business if or how they were wearing a mask.

I like little things, the minutiae of everyday life. Take yesterday. I found a possum foraging in the garage for food.

I’d like to write about something other than my wife but given that its only 90 days since she died, you’ll have to excuse me, maybe even forgive me.

A friend, who lost her husband once told me, nights are the worst. I listened and gave whatever comfort listening gives. But inside, I thought perhaps it was an individual experience.

It’s maudlin time. I was looking at a picture of me and my wife. It was taken on the occasion of a friend’s birthday. It was outside. There was a band. A table with tequila.

This is it. Today’s the day. For the last month, on the mornings when I published my usual Note, I saw this warning: John, creating and editing notes will be unavailable after October 31.

2020 seems to be the year of death and dying. Wives, aunts, fathers, friends, people we knew up close and people we knew at a distance.

Set out the winter beds for the cats yesterday. Two old dog kennels, one old sleeping bag, one old packing blanket, two old small, bedding blankets, put out by one old man.

I found an arrowhead yesterday, in my front yard.

Here we are. Another installment of the semi-examined life.

It was a dusty day yesterday. It looked as though gravity had failed…