The annual fye-out of the closet and chest of drawers is under way. I find that I wear only two kind of socks these days: the padded white kind made for summer walking, and the wool kind made for not freezing the toes in Ontario winters. Consequently, all other types of socks are excess to requirements. But who wants second-hand (sorry) socks, even if they are perfectly sound? Likewise underpants?

Tax time is approaching, so I am also turning out the top drawer of the filing cabinet to assemble last year's expenses and bank statements. Everything older than seven years goes into the fire. That's because There Can Be Only One filing cabinet.

Apart from that, things are quiet on the home front in Stratford. The weather is complicated -- a veritable tempest of snow over the last few days, and now the thermometer is tumbling toward minus lots and lots -- so I don't feel like going anywhere much. Himself toddles off to court and the gym, but otherwise logs most of his time at his desk grinding out legal stuff, or in front of the goggle-box, where he makes the cat happy by remaining quite still for long periods.

It's winter, otherwise known as television season.

Come spring, we have to get busy on landscaping. We have a large deck that looks pleasant in fine weather but unfortunately covers two basement windows and rather too much of the foundation; consequently, it must go, to be replaced with a stone patio. Oddly, none of the basement windows of this house have proper window-wells, so it's a good thing we have not had any long periods of torrential rain lately -- the result would be water pouring in over the basement window-sills. So we need the services of guys with shovels, rakes, and other implements of destruction to shift dirt, lay gravel, and fit paving stones. Every time I look at the deck, I wonder what multitude of maintenance sins of omission it might be hiding.

That will cost money. Sigh.