Good morning, where the early birds get the gossip, and the latecomers get the cold coffee!

We are in the midst of a lot of clouds here in cottage country this morning, and it has cooled down some, with it sitting at -2 C | 28.4 F.

By the looks of things, the colder weather will remain with us for the next week or so. Which we shouldn’t complain about, as our winter, so far this year, hasn’t amounted to anything like it has been for the past few years.

Taking a look at our town, not much is happening other than the wind whistling through the pines, and for Highway 522 well … it’s as clear as a moonlit night.

On another note, yesterday once again I traded my woodworking shop for my computer and today will do the same, as I have a few projects on the go that needs finishing up.

Reg and Laura, the folks that raised me, rocked back and forth on their creaky porch chairs, Reg puffing on his pipe as he shared his latest discovery. “You know, Laura” he said with a twinkle in his eye, “I swear them trees out yonder got a language of their own. Heard ’em whisperin’ secrets when I was out huntin’ last week!” She chuckled, taking a sip of her coffee. “Well, all I can say, Reg, is the next time you hear ’em, tell ’em to keep it down! Nothing worse than a bunch of idle chatter keeping folks awake in the early morning hours.”

I have a lot of good memories from way back when while living with them.

With that I am off for my morning breakfast that my lovely wife has ready for me, and will then see what the day has in store. And remember: “Life’s like a jar of pickles – sometimes sour, sometimes sweet, but always packed with flavour, just make sure you can handle the crunch!” GW