There’s something wonderfully half-awake about this morning: frost, the moon still hanging around, a dog delighted to be outside, and dreams bleeding just enough into reality that you’re texting about tires that aren’t needed until tomorrow. I kept that slightly chaotic, winter-morning feeling rather than polishing all the personality out of it.

The Second, the Moon, and a Good Good Good Winter

It was a crisp, frosty morning walking the dog.

The moon was still high in the sky at 8:15, although it somehow felt like 7:15. Maybe that’s what happens when you go to bed early. Your internal clock starts arguing with the actual clock.

I was exhausted last night, and I slept deeply. Nine hours altogether, with a trip or two through dreamland along the way.

One of those dreams involved Kim getting onto some kind of strange train contraption, complete with a leverage pulley platform, and riding away without my baggage. Apparently my sleeping brain had transportation logistics to sort out.

Then reality wasn't much less confusing.

I woke up thinking about Kim’s tires. I’d gotten up to load them into the vehicle, went back to bed, and suddenly had the terrible thought that I’d forgotten them and Kim had already left.

So, naturally, I texted her.

Turns out the tires are for tomorrow.

Well, good morning to me.

At least the dog had things figured out. She asked to go outside, and I went right away. She was a joy on our walk. There is something about a frosty morning, especially with the moon still sitting high overhead, that makes getting outside worthwhile. Cold, quiet, dark and bright at the same time.

Now I'm waiting for my brother to answer his phone so we can go for coffee.

He doesn't answer early.

Neither do my parents.

Everyone seems to think it's seven in the morning.

It's eight!

At least it is in my mind.

And sometime today, I get to pick up Kim's gift from Fosters.

I'm super excited about that.

What I haven't figured out is when I'm giving it to her.

Today is the second, and I'm leaning toward the second. I could wait until the eighth, but I'm not convinced waiting makes it any better. Sometimes you've got the gift, you're excited about the gift, and keeping it hidden for another week just seems like unnecessary suffering.

Maybe I'll give it to her after a lamb dinner.

I was thinking Smitty's, but lamb sounds better. I like lamb. Kim likes lamb too, although I question whether she properly likes lamb because she doesn't eat it with mint sauce or mint jelly.

How?

The mint jelly is part of the whole thing.

Maybe that's just me. But lamb with mint sauce or jelly makes the meal.

So perhaps that's the plan: lamb, then the gift.

Or perhaps I'll change my mind seventeen times between now and then.

Either way, I'm leaning toward the second.

And now winter is settling in.

Dark mornings are coming. January is going to be dark. Really dark.

And you know what?

I'm looking forward to it.

I have a feeling this is going to be a good winter.

A good, good, good winter.

Even in the darkness.

Frost on the ground. The moon overhead. Morning walks with the dog. Coffee when somebody finally answers the damn phone.

Then January.

Dark, dark, dark.

Bloody Mary.

Revenge in the winter.

Bring it on.

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I kept your original stream-of-consciousness humour, especially the dream, tire mix-up, nobody answering the phone, and your very serious position on mint jelly and lamb. I also made the ending punchier so your repeated “good good good winter” and “dark dark dark” feel intentional and give the post your voice rather than reading like something overly cleaned up.