Get up. Turn on computer. Let dog and cats outside, see if there is snow on the ground, and bring a few logs in. Open the vents on the wood stove, put wood inside. Make coffee. Watch early news for weather report while the fire catches. Let dog and cats back in the house. Take coffee back to the computer and log in. And that's the way every day starts in winter.
No snow yet, but the prediction now is that it will come by ten this morning. The temperature is thirty-four degrees, so it could happen. Then again, they said yesterday that the foothills might get "possible showers." Yeah, well. What we got was a steady downpour all afternoon. I do recognize that predicting weather is not an exact science, but one hopes for a little more accuracy.
Tree Guy stopped by yesterday and we talked hunting. He had just returned from an elk hunting trip and had some good stories, but no elk. I have wonderful memories of hunting with Steve, his dad, uncle, brothers, and the last hunt that included his best friend and boys. I didn't shoot, but was darned good at spotting deer for the hunters. I loved being with the guys and the camaraderie around the campfire at night.
I received a very disappointing call yesterday. Deb has been ill for several days and she and Craig won't be coming up tomorrow after all. In addition to missing their great company, Deb is a terrific organizer and would have made a great supervisor for The Crew.
The coffee mug is empty. The journal entry has been written. It's time to move on with the day.