I was thinking about joy yesterday and trying to remember where I used to find it. And while I was thinking about it the subject of happiness came up as did pleasure and I began to wonder how inter-related they all were and if you could have one without the others.

Yesterday, I decided I needed something to contemplate, some tiny thing. Some obscure thing that didn’t even know I was looking. Some thing that could use a good writing about, even though most folks wouldn’t give it a second glance.

It’s a nice feeling in the bed beneath the covers in the dark on a cold morning. Everything feels just right. It’s that magical time before you’re born again into a new day.

Our big flame leaf sumac finally gave us a show of color this year, less the scarlet seen on a few of its roadside cousins, but enough red and yellow to qualify as a fall spectacle.

Made a dessert yesterday. Basically flour, butter, pecans, cream cheese, whipped cream, and chocolate pudding, all layered up. By name, we called it Cajun Delight, partly I think because, butter.

It’s Sunday and the big four-day weekend is nearly over. Thanks has been given for family, friends, and whatever blessings have fallen my way.

I stood in the sun yesterday on the southern porch. I had stopped, on a tour of the grounds, to admire the three lavender plants thriving there. It was a cool day and a winter sun.

This is what I call winter. It’s 36 outside. We could still use some rain, and I have no idea if any is in the immediate forecast. At this point, I’m pretty sure I don’t care.

Back in the days of us, my wife did most of the plant shopping. I did the plant planting. She’d set them out. I’d dig the holes and put them in the ground.

It looks as though it might rain, which is just the weather being flirty. Nothing will come of it, I’m sure. If it does, of course, I’ll be happy. We need rain. .

We had a fifteen-minute cold-front yesterday. It was fun. The sky darkened, the wind blew, a little rain fell, and the temperature dropped, ever so slightly. I guess you could say it was a pale blue norther.

Big day today. I’m scheduled to get a new tool. It should be here this afternoon. It’s a tree puller. Well, little trees to be more specific. The kind that sprout up because birds poop their seeds in bad places.

Yesterday, from high in the clear blue sky, came the sound of Sandhill Cranes. A deep throated bubbling call that is unmistakable once you see the cranes and hear the sound.

One upside to this pandemic is how much time everyone is spending outside. It feels good.

Had company yesterday and dinner with friends last night. It was a good day.

There’s something about sitting down to write my morning missive at 9:50 that seems decidedly wrong.

Here’s to cool mornings and warm days. They’re especially nice when they follow days of rain.

The recent rains brightened the garden to a considerable extent. I noticed yesterday that the Asters beneath the Lacy Oak are about ready to join the show…