{"id":24038,"date":"2023-01-07T10:25:15","date_gmt":"2023-01-07T17:25:15","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/rodbinder.com\/journal\/?p=24038"},"modified":"2023-01-07T17:09:06","modified_gmt":"2023-01-08T00:09:06","slug":"jan-7-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/rodbinder.com\/journal\/2023\/01\/07\/jan-7-2\/","title":{"rendered":"Jan 7 51 Weeks"},"content":{"rendered":"

oHope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering, ‘It will be happier.’<\/strong><\/p>\n

Alfred Lord Tennyson<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

One week done 51 to go.<\/p>\n

Yup did all that. Gathered wood, fed cats, made kindling, gathered snow. The wood I was able to scrape up was only thin strips.<\/p>\n

The snow was on the woodstove, I was out of breath again. My coffee kettle was almost ready. I had filled my thermos yesterday with hot water, that what is in the kettle.<\/p>\n

Steam was already escaping, I would pour that into the thermos again. I still needed to find more wood before I would relax with a coffee.<\/p>\n

I also had plans to carry up, fill, and start my Gen. Oh ya and clean up the spilled bag of corn chips and baking soda. I wasn’t sure if that was me or cats that made that mess.<\/p>\n

It didn’t matter needed cleaning up.<\/p>\n

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