Drove through parts of Houston yesterday. Traveled up 45 from Sagemont, into downtown, and out again via Interstate 10. Went through areas where I lived a large part of my life.

It is closer to noon than it is to dawn. Yet, here I sit, writing, as though the sun is still to rise and my day yet to begin.

I am returned from the valley of Covid. Dropped off the cliff Saturday morning about 2 a.m. Woke up to a raging fever and a head full of everything, along with a cough.

Durn. I went to bed last night without thinking of something to write about this morning. This means sitting down fresh and sorting through a large collection of random thoughts to see what might be worth a few words.

Yesterday, I wrote about memories and the making of new ones with new friends. And a high school friend commented that she was in a new locale and ready to make new friends herself, and added, “…I sense you are lucky. I believe a lot of men don’t have friends for whatever reason….Any ideas why??”

I’m living with a mountain of memories. Just the other day, as a friend and I sat in our seats at a University of Houston football game, we looked back in time.

I mowed but the mower rebelled. It stopped. Won’t start. Small engines are not my specialty. But I will try because I have nothing if not time. It’s obviously not getting gas. Now I need to figure out why.

Last week was a good week with two weird exceptions. On Tuesday last, I misplaced my sunglasses. They disappeared without a trace and without a hint as to how I might have lost them.

Well, the work is finished. The holes are dug. The piles driven to refusal. The lifting complete. Doors close with ease. Cracks retreated.

It is easy to forget sometimes that there is actually hard work that needs doing.

Smoke detector batteries are only allowed to fail in the middle of the night. I have no idea how the makers of smoke detectors arrange this, but it’s true.

I had a rejuvenating evening at a baseball game with friends last night, which is a great place to have a rejuvenating evening because the pace of a baseball game allows for plenty of time for quips and stories and laughter…

don’t believe this. I just read an article about a new Rolling Stones album. I listened to a track. I’m excited. Keith Richards is 79 and Mick Jagger is 80. And they’re still making music, creating music.

Took the kids to the pool yesterday. The pool was filled with bugs. They swam in the kids pool. It is amazing to watch children frolic in a pool that is less than a foot deep and about ten feet around. But they did. Goggles on and all.

Went to a college football game last night. That’s about all I can say. We lost. I can tell you why. The other team out scored us. Pretty simple actually.

Its 5:30 and there’s a dog barking in the neighbors yard. It’s been barking, off and on, since about 4 a.m. If this were an Native American village on the high plains, I think we’d all be up to see who was trying to steal our horses.

I forgot my mouse. Now in the age of phones, pads, and touch screens that may not seem like a big deal. But to an old school road warrior and his laptop it’s a major inconvenience…

I am home and in my own bed. Not at the moment, obviously, but I was until just a minute ago. Now I’m up. Lot’s of things rumbling through my head.

It’s moving day. We’re hitting the road. It will be a long drive back to Texas, but it’s all downhill from New Mexico. The weather here in Taos was great, and last night I watched it rain at home. Sweet.

Went for a walk in town yesterday. The wild west showed up. If women had been with us, they would have gathered up their skirts and scurried inside. But it was just us guys.