Rerun

My mother used to recite a bit of doggerel that goes, "Little red wagon, tongue is draggin.'  Second verse, same as the first."  It means absolutely nothing, but it does apply to the last couple of days.  Yesterday was spent much as the day before, mostly napping, but with the addition of a drippy nose and leaking eyes.  Yes, I have a cold.  With current world conditions as they are, any sign of illness is a cause for concern, but these are symptoms I recognize and can deal with.

Walking Michael is not a chore, but a pleasure, and it gets me up and moving.  I would love to let him run off lead, but am not willing to take the chance that he would run off property, as well.  He seems to have accepted his fate.  Being a companion dog is his job and he does it well.  One of the pleasures of our day is to sit at the picnic table under the live oak on our early evening outing.  Michael lies down to sniff and read the breeze while I sit and rest these old bones.  The tree is filled with birds coming home from work.  "Hi, honey.  How was your day?"  They chatter and rustle in the branches, raining leaves on Michael and me as they settle in for the night.  After a brief respite, we continue on our way out to the west field so he can finish his business before heading back to the house.

The temperature must have dropped twenty degrees last night.  I was grateful for my feline companions who were jammed up against me.  Their attempt to get warm helped me, too.  The blanket is going back on the bed today.  Nature doesn't take long to change her mind.

I'm not sure what today will bring.  I'm just happy I'm well stocked with tissues.

Stay safe.  Be well.