Pulling onto Mactaggart after Quiet is the New Loud at the Longhorn, I caught a couple in my headlights, leaned up against a car, someone persuading someone else, and I'm not saying who. At the bar, Harley and Susan and I had talked about winter electricity bills, insulation, farm interns, what kind of savory sauce you can make with blueberries. Tom and James were talking about the berry farm down the street from us, how they were dealing with this late cold snap we've got, and on the way to work the next day I drove past blueberry bushes with their roots stuck in frozen puddles, both cold and flood was the misfortune this week. 

I've switched to tea in the morning, try to get most of the dishes done at night, make notes on what to do next, and put off the ironing.