This morning, 26º outside, that Spouse o' Mine and I walked down our road to the neighbors', as did other neighbors along the way. We were there to help them pack to "move house". (Isn't that how they say it somewhere other than here, in the U.S.A.?)
Pack house we did. Sad to see these good neighbors go; good neighbors are so comfortable. One can call them in a twit. I once walked down the road a piece to a rural neighbor, and sat on her porch a spell, all alone, unbeknownst to her, (I told her later), because I needed some breathing room from some houseguests. (You "houseguests" that read this blog? It's none of you. So there - come back and visit some more.) I felt comfortable enough to sit and ponder sanity on her porch. That's a good neighbor.
After the morning's packing, the sun was out and it was a vibrant 41º. That Spouse o' Mine headed out for a group ride (cycling) after lunch, and I headed out for a 5-mile walk around our section. (Most country sections are 4 miles, but somehow the survey made ours into 5 miles.)
I came home, rested a bit, and then took our two pups down for a romp to our creek - about 45 minutes of canine adventuring. Upon our return I picked - yes! more tomatoes! - and came indoors for the evening.
And now, I am EXHAUSTED.
It feels great.