I was out splashing in the puddles this morning, as high water covered the sidewalks and pathways of my run. It was also dark as I started, as we approach the shortest day of the year. I threw everything into the dryer of a neighboring vacant apartment, since we’re still waiting for the repair of ours. I’m glad some people are still busy. Our schnauzer, Tally, hates the rain but loves to be toweled off, so she reluctantly agreed to go outside. For my wife and I, today is Christmas having invested a small fortune in a beef tenderloin that we’re sharing with her daughter and husband before we unwrap presents. The dogs will get their share of beef and gifts, as well. A festive table has been set.

This will be the first time that my wife has strayed from her meatless diet for months. After all, it is a special occasion. She claims to feel better by abstaining, so I wonder how she’ll find the taste? The rest of us will undoubtedly find it to be wonderful! Only 11 days left until the end of a troublesome 2020. We’ve yet to determine what we’ll do to celebrate. I’ll be glad to get into a new tax year, so we can cash in some more of our retirement savings to pay off mounting credit card bills and finalize funding of our new Florida home. There’s been no indication of whether or not they’re on schedule for completion. I’m still working out closing details. 

I sent a first copy of my latest novel attempt, Tribulations and Trial, to a friend for some feedback. In the meantime, I’ll continue to add details to the story. If nothing else, it’s been a constructive way to spend all this alone time. Writing anything for me is always therapeutic and rewarding, regardless of any readership appeal. I sit here in the warmth of my home office, watching the puddles form on the rooftops next door, while putting words on pages. Other friends around the country are seeing snowfall at this time of year, but I would rather deal with puddles.