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.

I’ve been powerless. Got to Houston. Started to write. Realized my power adapter was still in the Hill Country. The battery on my laptop drained quicker than I could write.

My mind is buzzing today, and not with words to say. I’ve got to travel and that’s an entirely different mindset, especially when there’s a complication.

Heaven, help me. First, it was Wordle. An oddly satisfying game. I investigated letter frequency, studied combinations, and built a spreadsheet, because why would you continue to harvest by hand when you could use a combine.

Another project is in the books. The accent wall in the bedroom is painted and the bed is moved to it’s third location in the last fifteen years.

I’m still at it. Yesterday I went through all the dressers, desks, and cabinets to pull out picture frames. Some had pictures, but most were empty. I dispersed the nice frames to the kids.

Here’s an odd thing I’ve noticed in my journey of recovery from the illness and the loss of my wife. Sports are once again interesting, particularly when there’s a story involved, a story such as the emergence of the Detroit Lions as a winning team, having won nothing for a long time.

I had a day yesterday. Got things done. Found a cache of linens, fine napkins, tablecloths. Paid my property taxes. Had my garbage disposal replaced. Bought a new comforter. Bought new pillow shams. Washed windows.