I had fun with plumbing yesterday. My toilet leaked. I replaced all the bits that make it work. The fill valve, the flush valve, and the tank to bowl hardware.

There’s a Barbie movie and everyone is talking about it. And I read an interesting article in Psychology Today, What "Barbie" Gets Right About Male Psychology. I never owned a Barbie, but I like Psychology Today, and I’m male.

The other day I drove through a neighborhood in Marble Falls. The lawns were patches of brown, desiccated grass. My own yard is mostly dirt. Everything looked dead and hot. Yesterday, I drove through a neighborhood in Pearland.

I love Houston. We’ve been into each other for more than 60 years. It’s a big town with big dreams. The place was always about tomorrow and overcoming the odds.

I watched a big old pickup bear down on me yesterday while driving on highway 290 on the road into Blanco from Spring Branch. It was obvious it was going somewhere in a hurry.

I’m a grape picker. It was interesting work. Not sure I could do it eight hours a day, but two or three in the morning seem fine, especially when you’re gifted with a bottle of wine.

I’m going to pick grapes this morning. I have some mustang grapes on my fence, but these are merlot. I like merlot. It seems fitting that I should pick some grapes. I like wine, and I like the folks who run the vineyard where I’ll pick, Texas Heritage.

To begin again you often have to tear something down. A set of beliefs. A relationship. A fence. In my case it’s the latter. The old fence is coming down. I’m in phase two.

In the early 70s, as an intern for the Houston Chronicle, I was sent to interview Gunther Gebel Williams a lion tamer for Ringling Brother’s Barnum and Bailey Circus. He lived in a nicely appointed rail car.

I watched a multi-part docudrama series on the creation of Spotify recently called the Playlist. You can find it on Netflix.

I did it. The hose reel came together. The Bluetooth headphones connected. Patience won. And sleep. It is odd to think that at an age when I have little time left, I now appreciate the benefit of taking my time.

Bought a bird bath yesterday. No birds are bathing yet. I imagine, as with the feeder it will take a little time. I bought the bath because I’d like to see more of the painted bunting, I read they like baths.

Last night as I was planning today’s words, I wanted to talk about happiness. Then I got a good night’s sleep and now I’m unsure if that’s still a path I’d like to take, partly because it feels as though it’s a platitude fest waiting to happen.

I can tell I’m feeling good these days because my mind is swirling with ideas. Things to do. With my yard. With my music. With Gatewood Press. And in addition to swirling, the ideas are actually being put into action.

I’m building a fence. Or rather I’m re-building one. When we bought our property where I currently live there was a wooden fence along the back of the two lots. It was old when we moved in. Fourteen years later it’s older still.

They always say growing old is not for the faint of heart. And I believe them. Mostly as I’ve aged, I’ve ignored it. It never really mattered. I expected to die before I reached 50, anyhow…

I’ve had so much fun these last several days that I’m thinking about having a birthday every month. I could make it like a software update. My age point 1 and so on.

As signs go, getting Wordle in two on your birthday has to rank right up there as a great way to start your day. Of course, a pessimist might think it can only go down hill from there, but it’s not actually that big of a deal and I’m an optimist in most cases. So, I’m sticking with the positive connotation.

I have a task. My new bird feeder uses high quality food. Peanuts and sunflower seeds. All ground into little pieces. The birds love it. But so too do other varmints.

The beauty of little things. Doing the dishes. Making a bed. Cleaning a bathroom. Tidying up the living room. Folding laundry. You can rush through them, or you can take your time.