In three months I’ll look back in bitter nostalgia…

…on mornings in the low forties.

This morning circumstance had me out in it before breakfast, and it just reminded me that fingertips have poor circulation. Neighbors J&H are out of town, and both set tasks for old Uncle Joel. The horses need to be fed every twelve hours or they’ll dry up and blow away or something, so I was out schlepping hay at the crack of doom. That didn’t take long at all, but J also left a big pile of brush that needed to be hauled off. At least three, maybe as many as five loads in the Jeep’s little trailer. Not hard work, just a lot of back-and-forth so I may as well get started. In fact I’ve done so much hauling lately, and the future looks likely to contain so much more hauling, that I finally got around to making one small modification to the trailer I’ve thought about for a long time…
…because after a while repeating the question “Where’d I drop the shovel” becomes tedious.

But yeah, this is the first morning of the year with a bit of a nip in it. Glad I bought those lined gloves when I found them in town. Last winter nobody sold them.

And now for breakfast.