A desert winter, still stockpiling water for toilet-flushing when batteries fail…

as they predictably did, usually between one and four a.m. pretty much every night.

The first morning, overtly overcasting into an afternoon

which seemed to sort of portend snow, but who knows?

Well it did, delaying the return of the power by leaving the panels buried until long after sunup

but otherwise quite lovely everywhere, the Granites included.

By the time Tigger showed up, having survived a 360 degree spinout [with trailer] on the Smoke

Creek Road with Seth, who was having a day of near disasters on his way to finally hooking up

our new batteries, things were looking sketchy.  Which, in keeping with his day of near disasters, for some reason didn’t work.  On the other hand it warmed enough for the studio and

once the old batteries were reconnected we muddled along as ever, conservatively.

Although the Wonderland continued to threaten to turn to Mudderland by being barely

above freezing it didn’t; simply cold…a bit cold for old people to be making extensive

explorations, but sweet.

The last of the small 2022 watercolors*, a mere 58 in number due to May’s Unforeseen

Circumstances,** came down and were wrapped up

as the Ephemeral January Lake persisted; from kitchen or

porch, depending.

Another chill day brought us

some nice ice,

an afternoon’s walk past “Cloak”

and home before the sun sank

behind the Buffs, week’s end. Or almost; on a new moon, a Lunar New Year…the Year of the Rabbit…and “George Santos.***

*The larger triptychs, also 58, take longer coming down.

**Something to do with an eclipse, a chair, a porch and five broken ribs.

***Not his real name…probably…but ain’t they entertaining?.