Neighbor Nancy waved at me from her porch at the bottom of the steep hill. I stopped to chat and waved my phone in the air. I said, “I’m walking John this morning. He’s in Tennessee at the train club, and we’re texting.”
Nancy is both dreading and looking forward to her husband’s retirement in a few weeks. She said, “I cook breakfast only on Sunday and Monday right now. When he is retired, he’s going to want eggs for breakfast every day.”
The landscaper has adorned his burn pile with bottles hanging from a long branch, a small red ball, and an American flag. I didn’t realize it was a work in progress until I saw the additions today.
Spring is coming to the mountains. The creeping thrift is beginning its annual show. I suspect we would appreciate this more if we had seen the snow while we were away. The neighbors didn’t talk about it, but we heard a weather report that said it was snowing in the Carolina mountains.