Judging by the last time I wrote in this thing, my annual December slothathon has begun. The weather has been mostly horrible, but there have been a few breaks here and there which I’ve not used to my advantage in the usual way – the usual way being going for a goddamned walk. Today, I walked. Not long, and not vigorously. The freezing rain on Saturday night is still cemented on the sidewalks two days later, making a crème brûlée of the snow. The plowed path along the powerline is a grey tongue of ice. Poor Maggie wiped out a few times, but eventually learned to walk on the snowy edge like me. We were both glad to get outside in the windy sunshine, but it wasn’t enough. I so need a week of long, long walks. Not sure if my body can handle it. I feel like a cashew: tight and curled. Not so much salty as sweet and full of sugar. One walk at a time…

0C/1:30 PM