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Receive.  While it was close to freezing when I fed and watered the quackles, it is up to 52° F.  Still not warm enough to air the place out, but it is not long off.  Even with the temp up, it still feels cold.  I am setting the grill going, hoping to get roast ready for a pleasant meal.

Pretty rough.  Tired anyway.  I just can't shake it.  It is the cool.  I'll turn the furnace up.  I turned it to 66°, without worry of freezing, but that was a bit too cool.  Unless doing nothing is the plan.  Spring.  It does what it does.  As do I.  After it warms, a shower and shave.  And probably a tasty dinner right before.

I called my mom.  Such a worry inducing creature.  She sounds better.  Says she is doing better.  It's antibiotics and other things... a midsection brace I think she said?  That terrifies me, if I heard correctly.  Our causes are different, but I've tried the equivalent of a brace, albeit as a pistol belly band.  It really harms me, curtails breathing.  I can wear one, but only when in better condition.  Well, whatever works for her.  I'll check up on her in a few days.  It expresses concern, as good as chicken soup, for the soul.

I was going to call my brother.  Time just slipped.  He only likes calls, from me, in a short period around late morning.  Fair enough, but it is difficult to hit that, for me.  Tomorrow, or this week.  I do my best, which often, obviously, isn't good enough.  I keep trying.

The timer.  The grill should be ready.  Good day.