Course Corrections With A Side Of Carrot

 

Here at the far end of 2017, I find myself in introspective waters. Hence the sound of crickets here on the blog of late.

It’s easy to slide into this kind of thing when it’s nothing but frost outside. I find my tolerance of cold is just a little reduced this year.

(Could it have anything to do with the fact that you haven’t gotten out your winter coat and you don’t have any gloves? And those flimsy, girly, fashion scarves are not meant to keep out the chill. Get out your damn cold weather gear Dillweed. Then we will talk about cold tolerance.)

You DO have a point.

(Of course I do. I ALWAYS have a point.)

I suppose tottering out to the chicken coop in the pre-dawn hours in your nightgown and light linen coverup with slip on shoes and no socks does tend to emphasize the chill.

Anyway…. as I was saying, introspection time. I’m plotting altered courses of action for the coming year. Little adjustments to time management and focus. Fine tuning. Shaking up stale patterns of behavior. And generally aiming a cold and penetrating eye of truth on how I’m running my life right now.

I could do better.

I aim to do better.

So there’s that.

The other day, I cooked up a pot of soup. I went out to the garden to fetch a carrot or two. Even though my carrots did poorly in number this year, they rather made up for it in size and bizarrity.

(Bizarrity is not a word.)

It is now.

I’m a student of Mark Twain. He made them up all the time. You can’t argue with the masters.

So these are the kind of carrots you will never see in the supermarket. But you WILL find in the country garden….

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I will make no further commentary on the carrots at this time.

(Hark! I see a glimmer of hope for the new year! Perhaps a modicum of modesty and good sense.)

The other day I noticed a sweet potato that I had lying on the counter was beginning to sprout. I leapt on it like a woman wandering in the desert.

I bought a glass canister at Wal-Mart and planted it. My little winter garden!

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It’s sending out an incredible number of leaves for such a tiny tip of potato. It does me no end of good to watch something growing while we are stuck indoors, stoking fires and poking buttons on the heating devices.

Speaking of which, Bruce still hasn’t mustered the courage to introduce himself to Eva. I may have to intervene at some point.

So there we are. A small update here in December. Tomorrow night is the first night of Hannukah. That will brighten us up for a while….. literally. :-)

 

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