It’s kinda funny that my most constant seasonal cue is that tree, right across the street from the water vending station Neighbor L and I go to every week.
I guess because there’s nothing better to do while waiting for water bottles to fill than look at the trees. I don’t have much in the way of trees where I live. And that one won’t raise my spirits for another six months or so, when it buds out again.
Speaking of winter…
I reached another milestone this morning, with mild fingertip frostburn for the first time. Picked the wrong gloves.
Speaking of trips to town…
Tobie has become completely spoiled with Jeep rides. He’s plenty old enough and plenty smart enough to know that he never gets a ride when I load the water bottles into the Jeep, and he never used to give me a hard time about it. He just goes to his bed and shoots Guilt Rays at me till I’m gone. But this morning he apparently figured that since Jeep rides have been so abundant lately it was worth a try. Imagine that imploring stare while his hindquarters oscillate so hard you expect them to unscrew from his frontquarters. Alas, Tobie, I’m an old hand at this by now. You can make me feel guilty, but you can’t make me change my mind. You’re not gonna die.
And the last harbinger of winter…
…these damned things. And the poor battered tailgate of my poor worn-out Jeep, which couldn’t take a mild knock from a rolling propane bottle. Shouldn’t have loaded it like that.
Nice sunny day, though. Might hit sixty. So it’s not quite winter yet.
Maybe my eyes are getting old, but I think you need to take your shirttail and wipe the lens on your phone.
A small utility trailer might not be a bad investment. At least you can haul more stuff and take Tobie with you…