It feels strange sitting down to write at 11:30 when I normally wrap things up by 6:30 or seven, but here we are, nearly noon.

It has started. At first it was a trickle. Now, its more or less a steady stream. The clothes of my departed wife are leaving. Hardly of their own volition, of course.

If something is bothering you, get it checked, waiting almost never pays. An early fix may be hard, but it beats a catastrophic failure later.

I felt like one of the three little pigs last night, and the wolf was at my door. The wind howled, screen doors banged, and chairs rocked on the porch. There was a low moan from the dog run. I expected rain, but none came.

Duck. This is about grief. The recent cold spell put a real freeze on the house, literally and metaphorically. The cold came and it seems as though it never left. There is no warmth in the house at all. Just a dark chill.

Home again. Home again. Made the long slow drive west without incident. I traveled on a road I once disdained as too slow and tortuous.

I went to a high school junior varsity track meet yesterday. My varsity grand-daughter was running to post some times and warm up for district.

Memories are the skeletons of our lives, the things that build the present. Some are good, some are bad, and some are nothing really at all. And interesting enough, with perspective, they move around.

The other day I went searching for information on what happens when the earth’s magnetic poles flip. I found it. It didn’t really fit into the essay for the day. So, I moved on. The internet, however, has not moved on.

A crescent moon hangs low in the sky on this crisp winter morn. There are deer in the distance and nary a cloud in the sky. The horizon is gold and pink as my piece of earth turns toward the sun.

There’s a lantern in the trees at the end of the clearing behind my house. I can barely see it during the day, but at night it glows softly with a solar powered bulb until the energy gathered during the day is depleted.

I do believe I am victorious in a recent battle in the ongoing gadget war.

The other morning the heifers gathered along the back fence to eat dead cactus and lounge in the winter sun. It was cool but not cold.

I felt deflated yesterday. Which is appropriate, I suppose, since I had a needle stuck in my arm on Friday. Up until that point it was all excitement, and I was pumped up like a balloon. Then the deed was done.

Drove into town yesterday, Austin. Queued up. Got my shot. It was the second of the two dose Pfizer COVID-19 vaccine. Drove toward home.

Today is second dose day, COVID-19 vaccination time. It happens this afternoon. Supposedly the side-affects are more intense than those after the first dose, but I didn’t feel many side-affects. I did have a sore arm and one afternoon I felt rather lethargic, but overall, I’d have to give it a positive score.

It’s a frosty morning here at the homestead. It feels like flea killing weather, although since I disposed of all my outside thermometers, I have no way of knowing. It’s just cold, a crisp winter cold.

The winter rains have greened the yards, the poa annu, our winter bluegrass, is up along with an assortment of its winter weed cousins, too numerous to name. I mention the grass because none appeared in the tifway yard where my treatment with corn gluten apparently worked.

Looked at the moon last night in the clear cold air; had to crane my neck, it was almost directly overhead. We have some reclining lawn chairs I could have used for a longer view, but it was a spur of the moment thing and I was only out there to bring it the cat food.