Yeah, yeah, I know that colds are viruses but I like "germs" and I'm the boss of this blog so "germs" it is. The further into the cold I get the dimmer my thoughts and the more cross-eyed I feel. It's a beautiful sunny day, blue skies and light breezes, and all I want to do is nap. But I have to wait for the small engine guy to come pick up the snowblower and both lawn mowers for their annual service. I put the patio table and chairs away when I dragged the snowblower out of the shed, so the patio looks barren and lonely. Last week's cold withered the basil, the parsley's slowly fading to yellow, but the thyme's holding its own.
I got this far on Sudoku Snow #4 yesterday. I might have enough wits about me to finish it later. Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe I'll lie on the couch once the fixit guy leaves, dozing and listening to an audiobook. Aunt B recommended Station Eleven which was recommended by her granddaughter. It's a dystopian first novel, a little disjointed since time jumps back and forth over about 20 years, but it's well written and I'm enjoying it.
October 27--Skip Gandy, Sailboats. The line of sailboats skidded into view. From the sand it was impossible to see who was in front. The masts all leaned at the same angle and it looked to Anita as if they would all run right up the beach. She knew that Gavin's sails had burgundy numbers on them but in the strong light they all looked the same. When she asked why the boats were all so alike he had laughed and put his arm around her. "Because anything but the minimum weighs more and would slow down the boat. You want us to win, don't you?" She had nodded. She hated the way he made her feel like a silly child.
That's all I've got. I'm going to go concentrate on getting the fixit guy to ring the doorbell so I can grab a snooze.