Gray days. in A small but passable life.

The squirrels didn’t wake me up this morning. Too cold? I woke up thinking “10:05”. I held my travel clock up (the blue night light button stopped working a long time ago) and eased back the blanket hung over the east windows, “10:02”, it read. Crazy clock, in my head, still keeping time.

This is the fourth gray overcast day in a row, each one cooler than the previous one. The sun tried but failed to break through completely yesterday.

So, the last four mornings have been perfect for coffee and one or two short stories by Updike each morning.

The next two nights the temperature is supposed to drop down into the teens. The coldest nights so far this Fall. If I were still sleeping in the van it would be time to pull out my goosedown sleeping bag and fluff it up. But alas, that won’t be necessary today. I’ll be ensconced in this drafty attic room which hovers around the mid-sixties, sleeping in my double summer sleeping bag wearing nothing but my ancient sweatpants. Still, it is far more comfortable than at Mom’s, where she keeps the thermostat set at 78 degrees the year round. Which in the heat of the desert summer is fine, but during the winter, much too warm for comfortable slumber.

Anyway, I found another show to watch- “This Is Us”. I’ve watched the first four episodes and it seems like I may keep on watching.

“Westworld” ended the season on a hell of a cliffhanger. And so did “You’re The Worst”. At least there is something to look forward to, eh?

I find it amazing at how tolerable mid-western winters become when one realizes and remembers that perpetual summer is only a two hour plane ride away to a land of where no socks and shoes, no long pants, no long sleeved shirts, and definitely no coats or jackets are needed.

Yeah, right now at 3:21pm it is 35 degrees here and 65 degrees there.

Why am I still here?