It’s 0°F outside, parts of the state are getting down into -40°F windchill zone, and our natural gas bill will be a shocker. I’m stretched out on our couch in our living room, wrapped up in literally the most spectacular blanket you could ever have: the Pendleton Glacier Park blanket. I never used to believe there was such a big difference between wool and synthetics, but the warmth underneath wool is just this dry, comforting stupendousness. You don’t sweat, you don’t get overheated. I’m resting my neck, listening to Drew Holcomb & the Neighbors sing What Would I Do Without You.

Looked up at some trees on the way from work to Lifetime today: they cast stark, dark silhouettes against the ruby to blue spectrum of the low winter sunset. And, weirdly, that gets at the reason I love doing my job. I get to take a broken system and try to make it whole. I mercilessly criticize the results of my work everyday, trying to just get better, attempting to return stuff to its unbroken beauty and function. Like trees, like teeth. I’ll be far from here when I’m finally satisfied with my ability to restore something to that beauty and that function.

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