I was up early as usual because my brain does not know what is a weekend, much like the Dowager Countess of Grantham. As usual I made coffee and curled up in my chair to read. In this chapter, Teddy Roosevelt is hobbled by a leg injury at the end of 1902, but still successfully mediates a labor dispute between coal miners and operators that could have ended in widespread chaos and martial law. He tells the parties involved that while they represent the workers, and the millionaire owners, he represents The People. Did I mention he was a “conservative Republican”?

I am told that it is spring, that we are in fact more than midway through spring, but while outside the flowers burst into color and the lawns grow lush and the trees are blossoming and sprinkling their pollen everywhere, it still continues to rain and a chill permeates the air. Vast iron-hued clouds still sail across the sky on a daily basis. We in the northwest wait so patiently for the perfect summer we have come to expect, which seems as though should have at least been hinted at by this day. But it has not, and Viking Fest may be another damp affair, not that that will stop me from attending. When May comes to a close in a few weeks, I will be reminded of the other name for the month that follows: Junuary.

So I have stayed inside this afternoon and culled seven bags of clothing from my closet and dresser. I also wiped thick layers of dust from the closet rods and hangers. If you find dust on your clothes, that is a sign that they should perhaps be donated. I think I won’t have too many regrets. Many of the items I got rid of were from a bygone era of office work, so old that they not only do not fit, but are also out of style. I think.

Anyway. It just started raining again. I am going to write some fiction. Somehow. It has been a few months since I did that. Way too long.