It’s in the 30s. I know some of my readers will think, oh to be there, but to be fair, it’s still cold. So, it’s sort of a shared experience. Except no snow.

Baby, it’s cold outside. Random song line to describe today’s weather. No point really. It just seemed the thing to do. This tendency toward randomness often happens when I get a good night’s sleep and I got one last night.

Well, that was interesting. A night of dreams. Literally. I went to sleep, dreamed, woke up and did that four times. Four dreams.

I was dawdling in bed this morning, enjoying the warmth of the covers, when I realized I had to get moving. I had things to do. Well, a thing. Get a haircut.

There’s a nice chill in the air and Christmas still seems a long way off, at least to me. It’s a nice sign that time has slowed a bit. Or at least my experience of it. There’s no rush to do anything.

Well, dang. I anticipated rain all day yesterday. It never came. At least not to me. It was just warm and muggy. Real Texas winter weather.

It looks as though it will be a day where we anticipate rain. I like that sort of day. Gray. Full of promise.

I’m wondering what next year will bring while feeling good about the possibilities. And that’s good medicine…

I grow tired sometimes writing about grief. Partly, I suspect because I think, who wants to hear it all the time. But when you’re writing every day about what you see and what you feel, it’s hard to avoid.

December 7, 1941. Japan bombed Pearl Harbor. The country went to war and set off a chain of events that reached all the way down to touch a young woman in Ohio and a young man in Texas.

All the recent tiny rains, the ones the drizzle down over long hours, have done wonders for our bluebonnet crop in the back lots. The ground is wet as far down as you care to dig, and the plants love it.

Fried a pork chop last night. It came out just right. Golden brown with crispy fat. No pink inside. That’s a first. I won’t bore you with the details, except one.

Ordinarily, a gray, rainy day might feel cold and somber. But today’s gray, rainy day feels anything but.

Boom. The Christmas cards are done and in the mail. On the last day in November. He shoots. He scores. Now it’s present buying time. I already have some. I feel as though this may well be as pressure free a Christmas as I’ve had in a long, long time.

I’m nearly halfway through addressing my Christmas cards. Two boxes down, two boxes to go. My rough count stood at 60. I don’t get that many cards in return. The custom seems to have fallen out of favor.

For the first time in many moons, I tweaked my Christmas decorations. Added to the collection. Made changes.

I love brisk, cold mornings. Especially when I only need to go out into them to feed the cats or just stand around and enjoy the air.

It’s a fuzzy slipper heavy robe type of morning. Luckily, I have fuzzy slippers and a heavy robe. I’ve had both for a long time. It might be time for an upgrade. But well-worn fuzzy slippers and heavy robe are soothing, and I doubt anyone who sees me in them well ever think, jeez, get some new duds.

It’s a post party morning. The grandkids are asleep on the couch. The daughter is in the upstairs guest room, the room formerly known as my office. The house is quiet. There are clear skies over the pasture.

It looks as though another dreary day is in store. Not bad for winter, however, and rain in any form is good. So, I’ll take it.