Farewell, perhaps Ashokan

Tomato trying to grow in the glass room

Will it see fruition?  I doubt.  But then again, I always doubt.

Tonight I'm trying to decipher which versions of Ashokan Farewell and Amazing Grace are included on random mix cds bestowed on me by my siblings.  Surprisingly, there are more than one of them.

Snow flurries predicted tomorrow.  The maple leaves are half on the ground.

Dinner should be broccoli, but the best we could do was cabbage in the salad.  We are more than ever convinced that cabbage is merely a variation on iceberg lettuce.

X-rays today.  Maybe they'll tell me what's wrong with me.  Or maybe I need a psychic.
Cedar burning in the wood stove.  The neighbor says, "The only good thing about winter is the smell of woodsmoke."  I disagree.  There is also snowshoeing.