In like lambikins

with a little overcast and a whole lot of wind a day or so in, during which quite a lot of time

was spent with Sonny in the Repo figuring out where Linda’s Omaha stuff would go

and then leaving, last morning, tiny flurries of snow

which let up well before The Lake

before a fairly uneventful run over the hill and down the other side to ignore Putin’s Parrot’s

Great State of the Union Rant in favor of dumplings, fresh rolls and red curry across the street

and John Coltrane’s “Impressions” from the lost album rattling round my head. Much less disturbing options…and so, back in Benicia for the duration.  Of March, anyway.