Nearly winter

I'm burdened with the sense that this website, once so pivotal to me, is loosing steam, has sprung a leak, has had its tires shot out. Not true. It still serves as an input for my dreams of triumph over mediocrity and an output for a characteristically morbid desire to leave something behind so that I make a mark, however faint. My energies are invested elsewhere these days (LINK).

The rewards are instant and more fun than a sack of giddy drunk squirrels let loose in your living room. If somebody had of told me, less than 12 months ago, that I would be happier spending my Saturday night pulling a baby around the house in a cardboard box with the belt from a dressing gown than splurging my money getting drunk in a dingy south Minneapolis bar I would have proclaimed “Sir, you are a damn liar.” And that's all there is to the matter. Past notions of a good time have yielded all meaning.

We are on the tipping point of winter. Worthless amounts of snow, almost insulting quantities, covered the car two mornings during the work week. So trivial was the snow thickness and consistency that I bothered not brushing it off the car but instead let it blow off by itself once I was in motion. True validation of joke snow.

Our big oak trees lost their leaves weeks ago but the young oak, but a pup, clings to its foliage now rendered a clay red color. A joy to stand under, alone and lost in positive thought, on a cold blue sky day with a cup of tea in hand. I must check on the young elm that grows too close to our foundation. It poses no threat now but in years to come as its subterranean girth increases it may infiltrate the basement or worse, cause damage to the house. I'll consult my step-father-in-law for advice on moving the elm to safer ground. He'll know, he always does. Our catalpa trees tower over the house. We don't yet understand how, when or if their dried up leaves will fall to earth. Further study is required.