I need another list. My projects have once again overwhelmed me. I find myself walking around, taking notes of the things I should be doing and then sitting down satisfied that I’ve done something when the only think I’ve done is note the things that need doing.

Fell in love this past Friday. Again. Visited Trade Days in Fredericksburg. Was instantly transported back to the early 70’s, the first days of my marriage, and the flea markets we used to visit to find treasures for our new home.

Had an interesting conversation with a friend the other day. We were talking about how she always recommended my blog to her friends, particularly those dealing with dementia and loss. But she recognized recently that was no longer the case.

I had a good weekend of manly work, mainly working on my heavy equipment. And by heavy, I mean my zero turn mower, which is heavy in the sense that I can’t really pick it up.

The swallows are returning. There are birds on two of the old nests on the front porch. I cleaned out all the nest sites in the garage and sprayed with peppermint oil. I can do without their mess in the garage. We’ll see if I succeed in deterring them.

Busy day in the gardens yesterday. Mainly buying with some planting. Went looking for Morning Glories found another vine instead. The name escapes me because it didn’t have a card in the pot.

I found myself standing along the shore of the Gulf of Mexico the other day. I was on the seawall in Galveston, I was reminiscing to myself about what a role it had played in my life, particularly while I was married, and that was a long while with three kids.

It’s the season of falling leaves. The big oaks are shedding, getting rid of their winter coat, and putting on new growth. Soon, there will be thousands of new leaves and oak tassels, and then the tassels will fall, staining the porch and the drive.

I confess to the onset of laziness. My alarm still goes off at six, but that’s about all it does. These days, I’m just as likely to turn it off and go back to sleep as I am to get up and get going.

I stomped my old grounds yesterday. I’m in Houston. My home for nearly fifty years. I love the freeways and the byways and the highways. The old streets and the new streets. The crowds. The traffic. The life it all represents.

Made the long drive from home to the mountains of Big Bend yesterday. As we hurtled along Interstate 10, leaving Ozona heading toward Fort Stockton, we passed through many a road cut, deep dives if you care to look, at the millennia that have passed between then and now.

Went shopping yesterday. Did self-checkout. Left behind a loaf of bread. No idea how I managed that.

A big gust of wind woke me up last night. Maybe there was rain, too. The driveway is wet this morning. At any rate, I went back to sleep. Woke up at six. My new alarm time.

I spent a great weekend with the young grandkids in Houston. We sat on the couch. We cuddled. We talked. We watched TV. We went for long bike rides in the neighborhood.

I am home. A long road trip is in the books. Of course, for road warriors on active duty, that is, not retired, this is standard fair. And I sympathize.

Stood on the banks of the Rio Grande this morning. It is frozen nearly to the middle. The heavy grass crunched beneath my feet. I’m in Alamosa close to the river’s headwaters.

Bought a leather jacket on Thursday. It cost $10. It made me feel like a million. Found it at a thrift store in Alamosa. I saw it on the rack. Slipped it on in impulse.

I admit it. I have a bit of brain fog this morning. It’s a combination of long days and vino, or whiskey, or beer. Take your pick. And standing, and sitting, and listening to music.

The sun is rising over the San Luis Valley. An owl just drifted off from its perch on the house to hunt. The sun is rising over the distant mountains. We are on the third day of our journey.

Started our trip at 7 a.m. yesterday in Gruene. Finished it yesterday at 11 p.m. Mountain Time in Santa Fe. We were running from weather. It caught us outside Junction.