Today I am to have two new toilets installed, I realized it’s Lincoln’s birthday and then remembered it is also take out the trash night. I suppose that sentence says something about my life, but I don’t want to know.
I am bummed, waking up to find Tom Brokaw has cancer; not only have I always liked him, but this news points out this is a slippery slope we, the children of The Greatest Generation, are standing on.
I have often remarked that no one really bothers you when you are mowing grass; I think the same holds true of shoveling snow. And sometimes that’s good – the silence, the stillness, looking at crystal air through wisps of hair held in front of your face by a blue, fur-trimmed trapper hat that has slipped a bit.