Sunday - the 10th in These titles mean nothing.

I’m drinking my 50/50 coffee/milk out of an old jam glass. It is a very pleasant tepid temperature and the flavor is nice .... a little livelier than milk and lot more calm than coffee. I’m trying to keep track of carbs and I figure my small pot of coffee with an equal amount of 1% fat milk is about 30 grams. That’s a lot but I like the way it starts my day. Has a sort of balance and a bit of comfort.

I’m barefoot in my robe at the kitchen table. Gracie is settled into her red chair, doing a bit of maintenance licking and sighing. It’s funny, now that she and I are old ladies together - she’s 9 and I’m 71 - she’s talking a lot more. Long sighs and huffs and puffs and squeaks from time to time. She likes to lie with her front feet crossed looking very elegant. We’ve been doing a fair amount of walking - not as much as in peak summer/peak p-drug times but enough to keep both of us going. I plan to try to extend my up-hill walking this week.

We have about an inch of snow on the ground. It came a few days ago and has stayed. On our walk yesterday I noticed all the animal and bird tracks along the sides of the road. I’d forgotten how clear and beautiful they are. Evidence of life, unseen, yet here among us.

Yesterday Jim got us out to the silo field, the last field he picked with the pull behind corn picker to fill my dad’s corn crib. He’s left parts of a couple rows close to the creek and he wanted me to help him pick them by hand. I hadn’t done that in forever. We each had a 5-gallon plastic pail and we filled them half a dozen times and dumped them into the back of the Ice Cream Truck. I wasn’t wearing thick enough gloves and my hands got cold.

I remembered that in my dad’s youth all corn was picked by hand. My in-laws were the last people in the neighborhood to pick corn by hand and my motherinlaw would be out there every day. Those would be cold days. I need to ask Joana what she remembers about picking corn by hand.

When the corn was hand-picked to Jim’s satisfaction, he fixed the fence at the end of the field so he can let the cattle in to clean up the corn on the ground. Later in the afternoon he let them out - cows look forward to that all year long. I should have gone out to share their joy but I didn’t. Now I wish I had so I could tell you who the leader was. There is always a leader cow. They have a hierarchy.

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Today we are going to the city. It’s been a full two months since we’ve been there. Last time was mid-October when we toured the downtown upstairs apartments.

I want to stop at the big weird variety store in the river town midway to the city. I’d like to do it on the way for several reasons. I’d get it over with and if I can find what I want there I will not have to look for it in the city. But I’m not sure how early they open on Sundays. We will see.

I am the worst shopper in the world. I don’t like doing it. I don’t know what I want or how much I want to spend. I am easily distracted. And I don’t really believe in shopping.

Guess it’s a good thing the trip includes good scenery and lunch.

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I should be thinking about getting dressed. I wonder what will fit.

Blessings on you all.
Happiness and peace and all good things.