Thanks to some past discussions here (can’t remember who or when exactly), I’ve been intending to get my beloved Timberland Chelsea boots re-soled, rather than replacing them. I took them into Crane’s Leather shop and he said my boots were built only to be disposed. Can’t re-sole them. Disappointing.

I asked him to show me a few that could be, and I settled on a pair of Chippewa. I considered some Red Wings but they would have been at least $50 more and, in the end, I’m cheap. So at least now I have myself a pair that can be repaired rather than replaced. And if Crane’s ever goes out of business, there’s always the Amish.

Well that was a discouraging day. Just when I felt like I was getting the hang of the new job, I screwed up half a dozen ways in a single day. I told one of my co-workers, “I promise I’m a good accountant!” 😂 I just ate my weight in taco salad so things are looking up.

The look on Rachel’s face when I said, “I just subscribed to Plough magazine”…

“There’s a whole magazine about plows? And you’re subscribing?” 😂

Last night one of Darcy’s friends told her our house has “chill vibes.” I take that as a great compliment and recognition of what we’re trying to do here. One of my weekly prayers to the house spirit is, “may all friends be welcomed and all enemies turned away.”

We have a Christmas tradition of visiting the West Baden Springs Hotel and the French Lick Springs Hotel, both classic, beautiful spots. The first picture is of the West Baden hotel, which locals generally know as the Dome. Always beautifully decorated at Christmas. The second picture is by Darcy.

Happy Yule!

Last year we had goat kebabs for Yule and we want to do that again this year. Last year we couldn’t find already-ground goat so I sorta-kinda got it done with a cleaver and blender. Today I drove all over Bloomington and finally found properly ground goat, so it should be even better this year.

Today I help carry to his grave a small and angry man. He abused his children when they were young, manipulated and demeaned them as adults. He was the pope of his own exacting and graceless religion, not having darkened the door of an actual church in a half-century. He would arrive in heaven believing it was his due, with a thing or two to say to God about the management of the universe.

May his ancestors work him over. May his children find peace.

As Rachel said, all the choices of his life led to the loneliness of his death. Live so as to be missed.