Sunrise at Paisano

Dog walked over a few minutes ago and, in her way of clicking toenails and head swings, suggested we go onto the porch to witness the pink and blue sunrise and the sliver of moon and see how the grass--dull, dead, and goathead-ridden any other time--frosts silver.

We squatted and shivered and admired the view, and she growled, likely at the coyotes hidden on the other side of the barbed wire in the prickly pear and cedar. And that, to be honest, may have been her real reason for the trip, but she seemed content with the sunrise viewing and happy to come back inside and sit on my feet to warm us both up.

We're in the final countdown out here. Baby comes in a month, give or take a few days. Fellowship ends in less than two months. Book still needs so much work, and it's hard to focus with all the changes ahead and within*. And isn't that always the way, one way or another.

Happy New Year, friends.

*Good lord, how have we not in thousands of years of evolution come up with a cure for Baby Head in Bladder?