(no subject)

As the current joke has it, I change from my daytime pyjamas to my nighttime ones and then back again. The fleece daytime ones were bought as night wear a while back but only now can I get into them. Mind, others (I am not the first) have worn loungewear as pyjamas and also as suitable leaving the house clothes, but I'm not yet quite dead enough to shame as to wear fleecy tartan patterns outside the house. Though when exactly I'll get to leave the house is another question. Nearly a week indoors on the sofa with beanbags has calmed the bitey pain in the lumbar but I'm wary of testing it in boots in case it all comes roaring back.

The little bobcats with their flashing blue lights trundled up  and down the sidewalks last night, leaving diagonal salt trails in their wake. But today the wind blew in, dropping windchill to forking freezing C and F,  and blew snow around tumultuously. Tomorrow the wind may drop and the sun may shine and I *might* get my library book back, before the polar vortex returns our overnight temps back to objectively hideous cold. And nothing happens on New Years Day of course.

So the Dead Days tick away,  leaving no trace and not disturbing the grasses.