It has come to me that I can see. And not because I look out and see mountains, but simply because I look, and the mountains come to me.

My love. West Texas. The Big Bend. Loves me not. Sure. There’s the sparkling smile of a midnight sky. The warm embrace of the morning sun. The sweet kiss of a soft breeze. But it’s only a place and its warm embrace can easily turn me to dust.

I think I’ve fallen in love. West Texas. Big Bend. The high peaks of the Chisos. The Bofecillos. The calderas of The Solitario and Pine Canyon. The clotted veins of dried lava tubes. The sky-high piles of volcanic ash doing its best to cover the remnants of dead seas.

There were times, after we moved to the country south of Houston, when we’d find ourselves on deserted back roads after dark as we returned home. On nights of the full moon, it was possible to turn off the car’s lights and see clearly the road ahead.

It was a day of woodworking yesterday. Simple stuff. I’m building a small deck to serve as a foundation for the cabinet holding the pool supplies.

I’m still tending my gardens. Pulling up errant grasses, henbit and Velcro weed (Galium aparine). The latter is truly a weird pest in that it adheres to anything it touches except metal.

I had a lovely day on the golf course yesterday. We got off early. Had the course mostly to ourselves. The weather was cloudy to start, but the sun came out. I hit more good shots than bad.

The forecast high today is 80 which pretty much sums up Texas on any given day. If you don’t like the weather, wait, it will change. This is February, it should be cold.

It’s amazing how a cleared patch of ground makes me feel. Good. The area around the gazebo is nearly done. I braved the cold yesterday to get in a bit more work.

I had an epiphany yesterday. As I changed the sheets on my bed, I thought perhaps I should change the pillow shams as well. After all, they sit there every day collecting dust. So, maybe they should be washed.

Took a look at my yard and gardens the other day and realized they need some work. So, I’ve been giving it to them. I’m on my hands and knees pulling weeds and winter grasses.

Took a mental acuity test as part of my annual wellness physical. I passed. The nurse said I was as sharp as a tack. Not sure that’s a real medical definition, but it felt good.

My strongest Valentine’s Day memory is from the first grade in 1953. We lived in Oceanside California. My father was stationed at Camp Pendleton. My grandfather back in Texas had just died on the 11th.

Oh, me. Just a yawn. It’s a frosty morning. Bright sunlight. Seems a good day to be outside, actually. I may take a walk later. I’ve been slightly remiss in that regard.

I pretended I was a working man yesterday. Mowed. Edged. Cleaned up the yard. It was cool and the weeds were tall, but I got it done. Then I watched the big game.

It was a dreary day yesterday, which well matched my mood. I felt dreary, too. My abdominal aortic aneurysm is now in need of repair, two years after the false start of 2021. There’s no urgency. It’s just time.

I love technology and I love that I lived and experienced the introduction of computers and their brothers and sisters. That experience paid off twice in the last two days.

Here we are, another morning, in another day. Yesterday was a good day. I had lunch and a long visit with two second cousins, their father, and a first cousin once removed. It’s nice still being in touch with people with whom I’ve had such long relationships, with active memories of their parents and the parents of their parents.

Ordinarily people hesitate to admit embarrassing mistakes. I, however, live for them because it gives me something to write about.

I like how children fill up the nooks and crannies of my days when I babysit. Even now, as I write in the quiet house, I know that the kids will start stirring at 6:40. It’s a school day.