Yesterday was project day. I finished installing new LED light fixtures in the utility room, replacing the old fluorescents after one of them died.

The grass in the pasture is a light spring green, and the trees are fully leafed. The recent rains did well by us, and all the plants seem happy.

Once upon a time I dug up a coral sage from along the fence opposite my house. I transplanted it beneath the big oaks in my front yard. It was touch and go for two years.

More tales of retail. Yesterday it was cars. Today, it’s glasses, shirts, and jeans.

A while back I decided to start taking my car to a dealership for it’s oil change. It happened after I needed the said dealership to fix a more serious issue with the car. I did this even though I knew dealerships liked to up-sell.

Had a good day yesterday. And I know, it seems as though I’m having a lot of good days recently, because I am. So, maybe I should stop referring to all the good days as good days and just get on with it.

Had a great weekend with friends and family. Drove the roads. Listened to music. Ate crawfish. Drank a beer or two. Now, I’m at the Wile E. Coyote moment, where I’ve just passed over the edge of the cliff and find myself poised for the big drop back to earth.

Good morning. It’s Saturday. Earlier in the year I thought I might go back to taking weekends off. But that has turned out to be a bad idea. Apparently, I need the discipline of writing every day to keep my mind and body on track.

I recently bought a small painting. It’s a picture of an old barn. I hung it in a bare spot on the wall between my fireplace and my entertainment center.

It’s 55 right now and I’m to expect a high of 55. So, at this very moment my day is not going to get any better in terms of the weather, or at least the temperature portion of it.

Day two of the new rule. I pondered all day yesterday, what I might say today. Nothing sensational really popped into my head, but that’s okay.

I’m back. I tried getting up late, writing whenever, and taking days off. But I missed the discipline of the early rise, and the morning write. Maybe I should have been a monk. I

I play Wordle. I love it. My opening word is alone. It has three vowels and four of the top ten letters. It works pretty well most days. But I got to wondering this morning why I picked it. Alone.

I went outside to a fine mist this morning. No telling how long it’s been falling. The drive is wet. So is the ground. It might rain all day.

A front blew through, the air chilled, and all my trees have leafed out. It’s canopy time for my yard. That’s nice. My little trees are juveniles.

Sun damage. A lifetime of it. Had a chunk of my hand dug out on Friday. That was followed by freezer burns to about six or seven spots on my face. I actually lost count as the doctor spritzed.

Had a bit of a lost friend scare on Wednesday. Got a call that afternoon asking if I’d heard from said friend. I said, no. The lack of communication was of interest because we were meeting the friend on Thursday in Houston to hear music.

I have to admit. As stories go, mine is pretty boring, especially these days. My big activity yesterday was golf with friends.

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.

Woke up to a wet driveway. That’s a good sign and it looks as though there’s a good chance of rain everyday this week. That, too, is a good sign.