It's a sunny but breezy day, slightly above freezing. The furnace kicks on and the baseboard heaters click with the change in temperature. Deer hunting season is over. The orange vest and dog bandana go back into the cedar (hee hee) chest. Glad a few of the deer got away.
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHc6vqA3QJXOH1mZ5ZBseooNU3R_eKEFPvdVx5LHgThNxLjwZ6-3mGVogunerYUGZoWSfvzds9vb1Gh08oAseGGYLt30viPQq4809J5rMMUPbFCAprDMi-0GFCo2B0xhzSxNzm-Mgsukw/s320/deer+track.jpg)
I was thinking of going to Farmer Dave's Riverside Farms and looking at newly cut Christmas trees. But yesterday I washed the red truck and today the doors are frozen shut. That's okay, because that truck hasn't moved in 3 years. A guy is coming to look at it. He's confident that he can get it started. And then he'll take it away. That is, if he can pry all the slowly sinking tires out of the frozen ground.
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