As long as I'm reading about Dorothy's slick frozen snow-covered porches I won't complain much about the gooey mud of a Texas winter. I think my garden mattock is still propped beside the door, it needs to go in the garage for a while. No snow shovels here, except the small backpack version I've had since the 1970s.

By last night I realized was more tired than usual and after placing an online order that managed to mangle my addresses, using the post office box for the delivery and home as billing (so will it even go through?) I decided to stop while I was ahead. I signed up for the CDC app for tracking COVID vaccine recipients and reported that I was tired and sluggish with the appropriate radio buttons. No fever.

And the dishes that met me in the sink this morning were testament to my tiredness; I'm surprised I managed to generate so many! I had cleared out some fridge leftovers, made stock with the chicken carcass, pan fried some potatoes to go with the last of the chicken for dinner, finished baking the last batch of some cardamom cookies, and all of the stuff was piled high. Now the dishwasher is full.

Now to tackle the pile of papers on my computer desk.