Most of us needed that snow day last week. That magical stuff, if only for a short time, restored and revived us, blanketed our world, cushioned concerns over pandemics and politics. Zack and I each experienced this much snow and more during our individual sojourns in northern states. But during childhoods in Central Texas, we only remember one snowfall to rival this one.

The Texas Legislature opened quietly, which delighted everyone after the violence inside the U.S. Capitol the previous week.

Well, Zack’s done it again. It seems we can’t get through a season without at least one visit to the ER. On December 26, we were painting the farmhouse---finally. Some old wood had rotted. Zack cut and installed replacement boards. There was a little square hole where things came together at a corner, and he headed into the shop to cut another piece of wood with his table saw.

Upon returning to the office from a client visit a few days before Thanksgiving, I was greeted by our dear Mrs. P with what sounded like a warning. Fully aware of our company’s policy to have our office staff provide our caregivers all the support they requested, Mrs. P reported to me that she thought she had broken the pledge that afternoon by admonishing a colleague with unusual impatience, “bordering on a complete lack of empathy and courtesy” she confessed as if anticipating a reprimand.

The 87th session of the Texas Legislature opened Tuesday with COVID-19 encompassing every aspect of what the lawmakers do, according to new House Speaker Dade Phelan. “COVID, obviously, it will be a blanket over the entire session,” Phelan told his hometown TV station, KFDM Channel 6, in Beaumont.

In summer, I’ve been known to lament rarely getting out of my work clothes---except to shower, sleep, and don fresh things each morning. In summers past, I managed to class up the act and put on my game face at least a few times a week---for movie nights at the Cliftex, religious services, perhaps something at the BAC and maybe a drive to Waco for an appointment or some retail therapy. It’s a wellknown fact that if a woman hits her hometown all dressed up, she won’t run into a soul she knows. But if she tries to sneak in looking like hell, it’s a freakin’ high school reunion. This is such a time-honored, universal truth that had to showcase it in the Ranch Tails comic strip.

Gov. Greg Abbott and It’s a new year, but the news out of the capital continues to focus on COVID-19.

During these last nine months of social distancing, I’ve been getting up, dealing with my wild hair--- though it’s under a hat every day for outside chores--- and putting on a lick and a promise of makeup. It might be silly to keep up with such relatively unimportant things, but I have to look at this face, even if it’s just an occasional glimpse in a mirror. And Zack can’t avoid seeing me either.