And so on.
But honestly, that brilliant sunshine boosts the spirit every time.
Even for my poor hens and rooster -- the day is made better because of it.
Breakfast? In the front room.
The sun remains strong, the skies are so very blue that for a brief moment, you forget about the brutal reality. As we reach what must be the day's high (3F, aka -16C), the cheepers step cautiously outside and then huddle together facing the light, as if sun bathing at an Alpine winter resort.
I smile at them: we're gonna make it! The worst is behind us!
I turn my attention to Lily, my silver new old car. Ed and I have been analyzing its shutdown and I now know a great deal about battery cells, alternators, spark plugs, fobs, etc etc. (It was, by the way, a new battery and so hardly the culprit here.) I suppose it's useful stuff. You never know when I will be called upon to fix my own car.
Recharged overnight, Lily is ready to go. I'll pay close attention to her various lights and signals. Maybe she'll do well with some pampering and oversight. I love her enough to give her many second chances.
My drive for today isn't far -- only to little Snowdrop's home for an afternoon visit.
She has so many great moments, so many stretches, smiles, babbles...
...that all thoughts of a long cold winter slip away.
I drive home, Lily's engine purrs... Maybe it was me -- some switch left in the wrong position, some small oversight... As we make our way along country roads, a song from my Snowdrop playlist keeps running through my head.
You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine...