Gray hat

Dear Mom, today is cold. I stand in the chill where the sun breaks through trees to sip coffee. Most mornings, I throw a handful of keto granola for a brave mockingbird that busily gathers it up next to me. It reminds me of you and how you always bustled about your kitchen.

A brown hawk, unwilling to eat free granola, circles above. Maybe, it will eat the yappy dog two doors down. It roosts in the top of a pine tree on Landon Lane. I haven’t seen crows or Carolina wrens for a few days, but the squirrels and feral cats continue to taunt just beyond my reach.

Over the holiday, I called my sisters and brothers. they are doing well in their own way. Our kids seem happy as can be expected in this pandemic. Baby Avalon is sitting up now, but we are not traveling and none of her aunts and uncles have seen her yet. She might be walking before COVID subsides.

Tell Dad Purdue football struggled this year, their basketball has inexperienced young talent and I am cursing the coaches and referees for him. Dad’s gray hat hangs behind the door of my office; I think of wearing it on cold days, but if I lose it, I won’t have it anymore; so I don’t. But I do keep warm wearing a sock hat a friend knit for me. It is the colors of the rainbow and Dad would demand to know what the hell, I got on my head?.

Well, the mockingbird has finished breakfast, my coffee cup is empty and the hawk is preening its wings on the edge of the neighbor’s roof. I will go inside for ginger/mint green tea, try to get something done and check back later. Miss you, love, Al

12-9-20

**There is a picture, not posting at this time.