Just Practicing

The mid February wind is strong today, making the cold even colder. I'm watching the branches outside my window, leafless, sway back and forth. The squirrels are moving quickly today, except the ones who have taken up residence in my attic. They have five star accommodations and heat waiting for them after their days' work and they don't feel so pressured.
Not much snow this winter, but still there is a layer of it frozen on the ground in my yard as a reminder that there is no perfect winter for someone who desires heat.
The driveway is a skating rink that renders my truck helpless as I pull in. As I come around the corner I cannot apply the brake or the truck won't turn. I hit the snowbank once or twice, teaching me that lesson. I manipulate the steering wheel and ease into the spot. Having gotten stuck in this spot earlier this winter, I usually turn the truck around to give me the best chance of escape in the morning. This involves a series of comical maneuvers that send the Dakota sliding back and forth, barely under control, until I can coax it into backing in on ice land.
It is cold in this room. Always is. I'm wearing a 2007 PATS AFC Conference Championship sweatshirt over a heavy flannel shirt. The clothes I wore on Super Bowl Sunday are still draped over the back of this chair. When I got home that night I threw them there and left them there. Except for the Tom Brady jersey. It fell on the floor the other day. It is still there.
I was driving home Saturday night from work  in The Peace Mobile, tired and feeling in my bones the onset of disease. Turned right onto the ramp taking me home and saw a coyote type thing slink off to my left forcing me to swerve right and hit whatever he was ripping into. Felt like I ran over the skull, although I tend to the melodramatic.
Even though I knew it was already dead when I hit it, the thud still disturbed me. In my mind, running over a corpse is not much better than killing something. I felt uneasy for the rest of the ride and for a little while after getting home.
Woke up sick as a dog on Sunday. Actually I rousted myself out of bed around three a.m. so as not to disturb Carol. Slept(?) in my recliner.
Just your typical February.