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Ten Degrees and Getting Colder

  Cold Sunrise   That's just the name of the song written by Gordon Lightfoot.  It was actually -13 F when I got up this morning (wind chill -24).  Tucson may have pulled back into the lead!  There's a lot of weighing pros and cons of Colorado vs Arizona by the wood stove.  Not much else to report. I did enjoy a few games of pool and a beer with my brother this week.  We don't get together very often, so it's good to try to keep the lines of communication open, especially with my mother celebrating her 86th birthday next month.  He lives in Milwaukee and just started semi-retirement.  Our opposing politics and lifestyles keep things very casual and surface-level.  Not that there's anything wrong with that.   It's important to find common ground.  He and his wife have started going to concerts and recently saw the Steve Miller Band.  Music is one of our common interests.      

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While other people sleep in on this Saturday morning, my body wakes with the sun and urges me up.  A few minutes after 6 a.m, Elvis the dog  and I hiked into town, up and down a few hills, and past a quiet Main Street.  The cafe was packed with old folks.  The more trendy coffee shop and cupcake shop were still empty, waiting for the upscale younger crowd to wander in.

Coming up the driveway, I noticed that the squirrel I accidentally hit yesterday afternoon was already gone.  Nature wastes nothing.  I felt bad about hitting the squirrel, although I have been at war with the long-tailed rodents for a few years.  I like to feed our wild birds, and the squirrels have been raiding my various feeders for a long time.  I have been known to take pot shots at the raiders with my one-shot pellet pistol.  I missed more than I hit, but I did manage to hit a few.

Recently, I purchased an overpriced squirrel guard for the bird feeder, which was simple but effective.  Since it worked, I guess it wasn’t overpriced.

Since installation, the squirrels have been content to eat the birds’ wasted seed on the ground, rather than climbing up the pole, lifting up the lid, and stuffing their greedy heads into the feeder itself  to eat like pigs at a trough.  I no longer feel animosity towards the grounded squirrels.

After arriving at home, I grabbed my bag of freshly roasted Mexican coffee beans.
Actually, the beans were baked, not roasted.  And that’s an important distinction.  Properly roasted beans undergo temperature changes from room temperature to over 400 degrees.  My heat gun crapped out on me during yesterday’s roasting session.  Beans that normally roast in 12-15 minutes took over 30 minutes with the dying heat gun.  Not a good thing.  Baked beans taste flat. Still, these fresh baked beans were still an improvement over anything that I could buy locally. And being the frugal guy that I am, I couldn’t throw away the baked beans!

There was a time when I would drink nothing but a ristretto (restricted espresso shot). Those days of purity are long past. Today, I opted for a simpler form of making coffee–a method that will serve me well when I begin travels with the Scamp.




Justin and I are taking it easy.  Julia is off in Nashville at a meeting.  She left me this cup from a previous meeting to remember her by–with a semi-famous Ben Franklin quote.

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