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Good Morning, Tuesday…

You’ve arrived early. Or I arrived in you early. Sleeping away, but then 2:18 a.m. insisted on company. I’ve been catching up on word count.

I’m writing two books at once, and one is a Christmas anthology. In some strange coincidence, when I first woke up, I started scouting around Hulu for something vintage to watch. I’ve been hooked on Dick Van Dyke, but I’m skidding into the finale, and I don’t want it to end, so I was looking for something similar.

Instead, I found an HD fireplace that plays holiday music. I don’t even know how I stumbled into it, but I’m perched on our guest room bed, with a kitten at my side, and my laptop in front of me, writing to a holiday fireplace! Technology!

This is the perfect fireplace. Really, really HD, and no heat! No ashes or coals to clean. 😉 Must figure out how to make it a favorite.

At the same time, I’m running the ceiling fan because spring is arriving with some extra overnight warmth. Yesterday, I parked in front of a pink-blooming pear (I think) tree, and we had to add chlorine to the pool because the water suddenly grew some algae.

And best of all spring gifts, the worst neighbors in the world appear to have moved out.

I miss the dogs that used to chase me back into my house before we became friends. I don’t miss the four or five trucks and the boat that used to inhabit our cul de sac or the garbage cans tipped over in the shrubbery, and I won’t even whine (in a specific way) about the stuff they’d throw in our yard. They were college boys, one of whom was the son of the people who still own the house.

The parents are cleaning, and they’ve arranged for painters and repairmen. In odd moments, it feels like the nostalgic end of an era, but then, as I’m walking past, that kid’s mom will wrestle something like a tractor tire (not a joke) out of the overgrown landscaping, and I’m ready to have a tidier neighbor who doesn’t party like it’s 1999. Every night.

I miss the doggies, though.

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