Late Blues

The refrain is "Everybody got something that he can't hide." I'd made a pot of grits, so I had another bowl of chili on polenta. Excellent fare, beans and corn. I have to turn off the radio when they switch over to some hip-hop crap. The silence is stunning. I'm sure it has to do with atmospheric pressure, or maybe I'm going hard of hearing, but it actually sets up a ringing in my ears. Supposed to be fifty degrees today, after very cold for a couple of nights, so the freeze/thaw cycle will be in full swing. I have left-overs to eat, and an acorn squash to stuff and bake, and a solid day of work, to fill all the stations with wood. More cold weather coming, but it won't matter as much, the days are longer, and I'm coming out of my hibernation mode. Green shoots will be poking out among the leaves in a few weeks. I'll have a bitter salad of dandelions and watercress, then it'll be morel season. Jenny emailed to remind me about the March 1st reading, then in May I'm reading for the Nature Club. TR wants to come up and spend a day working on the opera, which he now sees as a Passion. I'm excited that after working up wood later today, it'll be warm enough for a thorough sponge bath, I'll be able to wash my hair and soak my feet in Epsom salts. Small mercies. It's been a good winter, how difficult is it really, to curl up with a lap-blanket, a drink, and a good book? I need to get a current calendar because I'm not sure what day it is. I was thinking about ammunition today, the logistics involved, getting bullets to the front lines, how, ultimately, we were completely dependent on a couple of truck drivers. Clem, who has proven his uncanny ability to avoid craters, and sweet Polly, who wears camouflage better than most. I reread that set piece in Blood Meridian about making gun powder, it's masterful.