Sun's out, it's cold, and I think I will be domestic today. I have broth defrosting from when I cooked the chicken for the Christmas chicken salad and leftovers and a butternut squash too. And greens from the garden, of course. I plan on making a soup from all of this diversity and we shall see how it comes out.
Make the bed, haul some fallen branches, replace the camellias on the hallway altar. Their petals have grown too soft to hold their shape and they fall with soft thuds to the floor.
I really don't have much to say today. I feel quiet in my soul. I don't feel as if I need to ensure the planet's survival or decide how to deal with those militia assholes in Oregon or instruct the president on national matters.
Nope. None of that.
Simply being on this cold, bright day.
Suits me fine.