32nd day --

I

31st day -- Fools the eye.

This is a lovely scene a little less than one block from my house. Yes, it is a cool stream of water winding its way westward down the hill. The banks are covered with wild stems which provide coverage for the native fauna, and in the summer bright blooms of pink punctuate the shades of green. It really is lovely then, and this winter the scene will soften with a covering of frost and deep snow.

I always pass this stream very slowly as I go to and from my house. Sometimes I have seen deer wandering beside the water or lying in the tall grasses. I'm sure this is also where the neighborhood receives the raccoons, skunks, and coyotes that creep around our houses at night. And I fear that someday we might also be visited by a mountain lion preying upon these creatures, since a lion was spotted just seven blocks away last month.

Too bad that this scene is not as natural as it was just half a century ago; today it is actually a drainage ditch. On the other side of the street, this ditch is a wide, concrete-sided canal that is sometimes used by scooters and bicyclists for joy rides. I never look at this side of the street when I drive by. I prefer to let my eyes fool my mind into enjoying the peaceful atmosphere of a secluded mountain stream.

30th day -- Dropped the ball.

Well, I almost made it a full month of posting a picture and blogging every day -- overlooking a couple of small "cheats." But today I spent the daylight hours painting the stairway and doing other work around the house. And in the evening I made a five-hour road trip to retrieve my grandson from his visit to the farm. So this blog is being made ex post facto.

On the way home I saw a scene I would like to have photographed, but I was past it as soon as I saw it and didn't want to stop and go back. Cy and I were both too tired by then. I'll catch it again another night because it wouldn't look too cool in the daytime.

I hope I don't miss too many blogs during this year's challenge!

29th day -- Paper pile

Paperwork. A necessary burden. A means to an end.
There are several things I could write about tonight: the church service this morning was super as usual, and I met more people who welcomed me; this is the anniversary of JFK's assassination which occurred when I was a junior in high school; a stack of paperwork needs to be finished before Tuesday morning; I have a lot of house-and-garage work and cooking to do for Thanksgiving company; the list goes on.

The stack of paperwork is calling my name, and so I'd better answer. It seems ridiculous to begin a day's work at the end of a day, but if I start now I'll more likely finish in good time tomorrow morning.

My final thought? I need a secretary.

28th day - Imperfect moments, perfect memories

Right -- this is an unusual photo to publish for the world to see. The only person in the world who will appreciate it is me, and I will never forget it. So, what is it? Guesses, anyone?

This is a photo of the only bald eagle in the wild that I have ever seen in my 62 years of existence!

This afternoon I was driving back to Colorado Springs after taking Cyrus half way to meet his grandfather, and I was .6 miles east of Punkin Center on highway 94 when I came to a lone, bare tree beside the highway. Up in the top branches was a very large bird, and as I sped past I looked quickly to see what kind it was. The sight of America's national bird peering down at me jolted me to attention, and I immediately braked and swerved off to the right hand shoulder, grabbed my camera, and hopped out of the car. As I was zooming the lense in for a better shot, a car heading in my direction passed the tree, and the eagle took flight. Perhaps it was cautious of my attention to him (or her) also.

I went ahead and took one quick shot, knowing that it was an impossible blur, and waited for the eagle to circle and return to its perch. For an instant, the impressive bird seemed to consider settling back on its branch but then changed its mind and winged away to a stand of trees further north. I seriously considered following after it, but I had an appointment within the next thirty minutes which I could not miss. Besides, for all I knew, the bird was headed for Nebraska.
I had to content myself with admiring it until it disappeared from sight. Wow -- what a moment.

I am posting this photo because it reminds me not only of the wonderful bald eagle but also of the fact that it does not take a perfect moment to create a perfect memory. Very few things in life come off with perfection, but the memories of each special occasion are still precious, flaws and all. This fuzzy little blur in the sky will still create an image in my mind's eye of a stately bald eagle perched high in the bare, dark branches of a single tree beside a lonely highway on the plains of Eastern Colorado. I couldn't ask for a better picture than that.

27th day -- Whistlin' my tune

At times I can think of no more welcome sound than the shrill whistling of my tea kettle. I don't think I can employ the cliche' "music to my ears" because the pitch of my kettle is pretty irritating actually. Funny how the nerve endings in my ears can be repelled while at the same time the nerve endings in my brain and taste buds in my tongue can be attracted by the same sound. Pavlov.

My brain reacts to my tea kettle the way Pavlov's dogs reacted to his bells -- my ears hear the sound and my mouth responds. I anticipate the calming aroma of tea infusing the room, the wonderful warmth soothing my throat, and the intoxicating chemicals relaxing my jangled nerves. Tea is my drug of choice. Sometimes I can trace the letting go of tension as the liquid streams through my body. Ahhhhhhhhhhh

Tonight I chose to drink Cozy Chamomile, known to induce relaxation and sleep. And - - - it's working. Good night.

26th day -- The remains of the day

What a fun evening! Several friends came over to enjoy a presentation of Premier Jewelry Designs, and we had such a good time. Kristy Crain delivers a spirited and Spirit-led demonstration of the latest jewelry designs as well as fashion tips for wearing the products. It is always such a pleasure to be around people who are straight forward about the role that faith in Christ is playing in their lives. Very refreshing.

And I love to serve refreshments on pretty dishes! I think even beans and liver would be decently appealing if they were served in antique glass bowls. Well, that might be stretching beauty to its absolute maximum capabilities. But at least the presentation would enhance the cuisine a bit.

I am determined to use my pretty dishes even if it means that I will lose some to breakage in the process. My take on breaking antiques is that now the remaining ones are worth that much more. Of course, I'd really rather that someone else would break their antiques and make mine worth more, but I have to do my part to sustain the law of supply and demand.

For now, I'll put these pretties back into my china cupboard and look forward to bringing them out again next week for Thanksgiving dinner.

25th day -- Tips and techniques

Yesterday was a gorgeous day in Colorado Springs, but I saw very little of it. Yet I had a great time indoors, taking a sewing class at JoAnn's Fabrics store. Just one other lady was enrolled with me, but we had a marvelous time with our instructor, fabulous home decorator Tricia Boatner. Not only did she share her expertise with sewing but also she infused a little of her life-learning as she explained how fabrics work together like people, what goes together and what does not, etc. My classmate, Michelle, and I giggled at her earthiness.

Tricia is a true teacher. She passes on all of her knowledge and holds nothing back. She wants all of her students to do as well as she does and then go on to do better. That is my whole philosophy of teaching, and I appreciate those who share it.

I have taken classes in other areas where the teachers want to hold back some of the "good stuff" so that they can keep themselves exclusively above their students. I have a hard time giving those people the special title of being a "teacher."
I have yet to decide what their label should be.

But my photos show the beginning pieces of my project and then, with the addition of an expert's tips and techniques, my final project. Now I need to practice on my own quickly before I forget what I have learned!

24th day -- Passing of time and space

I am cheating again just a little because I actually snapped these two shots yesterday on my drive from Central Kansas to Colorado Springs. I like both of the scenes for their own sakes, but what is interesting is that they occurred just four hours apart on the same day!

The first shot of the old farmstead is a scene just west of Salina or east of Russell which I have passed by hundreds of times over the years but have never seen because it is off the interstate a bit. I stopped at a roadside park where I saw a path with a bridge leading to the open countryside -- for people to walk their dogs stretch their own legs. Just beyond the property fencing is this picturesque abandoned farm. The grey day emphasized the colors of fall.

As I traveled west near the Kansas border, I ran into a winter storm from Oakley to Goodland. Not fun driving for sure. I love the look of my folks' beautiful home when it is decorated with fresh snow. And I like the bluish cast which twilight added to the scene.

23rd day -- Building blocks

Helping a four-year-old learn to recognize the letters of the alphabet and to understand the sounds each one makes, I am amazed once again at the power inherent in those 26 letters. I suppose if we count upper case and lower case separately there are almost 50 different letter shapes, and if we toss in cursive shapes we'll have almost 100 shapes. But that's still comparatively few shapes to have so much power.

It is fascinating to watch the process evolve in young brains as they associate a squiggle on a piece of paper with a sound that they are supposed to make when they see that squiggle. It reminds me of the scene from The Miracle Worker when Helen Keller suddenly understands what her teacher, Annie, is doing when she makes the letters for "water" in her hand. What a powerful change it makes in a person's life when they realize the significance of words!

From this jumble of blocks carefully arranged on my living room floor could come the skills of another William Shakespeare or Ronald Reagan or Billy Graham -- powerful men who understood how to influence people with words made from 26 simple squiggles on a page. Or these blocks could be the beginning for someone who will use the power of words simply to enjoy sharing thoughts on an internet blog.

22nd day -- Prairie windmills

I have much better photos that I took today, but I want to record the fact that I spent most of my day in my car, traveling from Central Kansas to the Front Range of Colorado. The extremes in weather was surprising. Central Kansas still has geraniums and roses blooming, Western Kansas was covered in 5 inches of snow with hazardous driving conditions, and the Front Range of Colorado had snow on the ground with clear skies when I arrived.

The windmills are located in north central Kansas along Interstate 70. They stand an impressive 150 feet high and dominate the skyline for miles. It's hard for me to keep my eyes on the road when I'm in this area because the windmills are so mesmerizing.

Truth to tell, I was also impressed that I could get such a clear, focused shot while I was driving! Click on the photo a few times to enlarge it, then try to count all of the windmills in the scene.

21st day -- Autumn nye

I'm cheating a little on this one because since I am traveling, I don't always have an internet connection to allow me to make a post. So I'm posting one day later actually. And a second cheat is that I'm posting a picture from day 18 just because I like the picture and want to include it. This picture, I know, is blurry because my small camera does not have great zoom capabilities. But it does hold some surprises.

My son Tom and I had taken his girls to school this overcast morning and on the return trip had discovered a sheltered dip in the country road which had been claimed by a large nye of ring-necked pheasants. (Yep -- a flock of pheasants is called a "nye"!)Tom counted thirty cocks in the group! When I returned to capture some shots, the birds were very skittish about letting me get close enough for good focus. They flew or ran at the slightest inclination. (A group of pheasants in flight is called a "bouquet.") Good reason to do so -- hunting season was just three days away at the time.

Off into the field, one cock stood boldly on top of a hay bale, knowing that he was far enough away to be safe, so I shot him. Photo-wise. When I cropped the picture to get the composition I wanted, I saw two more pheasants in the foreground which I had not seen from my car. And when I continued to look closely, more white ringnecks caught my attention. See if you can find the nine pheasants -- and if you find more than that, let me know. Double click on the picture to enlarge it.

20th day -- Precious fruit

And the good times continue! I did more of the same today and threw in a regional championship football game and an award-winning band show!

There are few things that can match the excitement of a hometown Friday night football game when the team is on a winning streak and the half-time performance finds the crowd in the bleachers rather than at the concession stand. Even the weather cooperated to provide a perfect night by postponing the forecast rain and snow until Sunday and allowing us to have one more perfect night for the final home game of the season.

Nothing unites a community more than does supporting the youth, and it is especially rewarding to see when the young people’s response demonstrates that they are well aware of that support and give their best back to the community. It appears to be a pretty proportional equation that the amount of input equals the amount of output in most relationships like this. If there is ever a breakdown in the community-input/youth-output cycle, it seems to me that it is sadly the adults’ lack of input that usually creates the breakdown. Time and effort spent on young people is never wasted, and this community is enjoying the fruits of its investments.

19th day -- Victorian vignette

This was a very good day, getting back to Buhler after teaching here for two years, moving to Colorado Springs, and coming back to visit. Central Kansas is a nice place to be.

Cousin Pauline and I started with the highlight of visiting my parents in the retirement home and finding them well and glad to see us. It was wonderful to talk with my dad again.

From there it was shopping for antiques, enjoying a fabulous lunch at Brooks in Hutch, hitting the fresh food market just down the street, rushing back to fix a salad for supper, eating at my brother’s house, and finishing the night by attending the BHS school play which featured the acting, singing, and dancing talents of my nephew Dane.

So what is the connection with the photograph of the day? The photo reflects some of my favorite things all grouped together – glass candle holders, pretty plates, and a tea set, (all belonging to my cousin) -- and this day was a grouping of some of my favorite people and favorite activities, including having a cup of hot chai tea latte’. This entire trip east has been a vignette of sorts, a composition of what I enjoy most.

18th day -- The small things

Any of my former students can affirm that I love poetry. Dickinson, Whitman, Hughes, Spenser, Keats – wow. And of all secular poems, people are surprised that my favorite is this concise expression by William Carlos Williams:

So much depends on a red wheelbarrow
Splashed with rainwater
Beside the white chickens.

I like this poem because I can so vividly see this scene in my mind, but I think a lot of people don’t get it and become absorbed on trying to associate with using a wheelbarrow. And I like it because it captures the essence of poetry and of life. So much depends upon a person’s being able to notice the small things in life that are beautiful or striking or significant.

When I rode past this pastoral scene this misty morning while going with my son Tom to take his girls to school, I knew that I would drive back this way for a photo. In the huge, rolling expanse of the prairie, the bare, black tree standing in the middle of the small pond surrounded by a small herd of docile, white cattle was a scene too peaceful to ignore.

A person who can see the simple vignettes that make up the larger pictures is often also a person who notices the small things about people or the small details that make an occasion special or the small things that could ignite or defuse a conflict. So many really big things depend on someone’s paying attention to the really small things.

17th day -- Grey cat on a grey day

What is so great about a grey day? No need for sunglasses. No shadows on my pictures. Good day for a favorite hot drink. (I had two cups of Taster's Choice with hazelnut creamer --mmmmmmm.) The entire day was grey and so was the entire landscape. The horse in the corral is grey and so are the cats which followed me around the farmyard.

Grey days are cool -- in both a weather sense and an attitude sense. Somehow they seem calmer, like nature is just kicking back, not working hard at glowing or storming, just letting the clouds hang.

The common word is that grey days induce depression. Perhaps people just get too wound up with all of the frenetic activity they get involved in on bright, sunny days or all of the frenzy involved in fighting against stormy weather. Perhaps on a grey day these people just need to sit down under a shade-less tree with a steamy cup of Earl Grey tea cradled in their hands and a grey cat curled up on their lap.

16th day -- Seclusion

I like the mood this picture evokes of a peaceful, old-time welcome to a house with a lot of character. However, because the old house has a new addition with three entrances, this door is seldom enjoyed by visitors.

That makes it all the more special for those who might be looking for a little quiet solitude. The limestone banister or the stairway create private seating for reading, chatting with another person, or just sitting and thinking. In fact, the entire front yard, a small circle of grass enclosed by tall evergreens, is designed for privacy.

Sitting on the lawn in front of this charming entry, a person can feel as if the scene is located in the center of an expanse of forest spreading for miles in all directions. What a surprising contrast it is then to step outside of the small evergreen circle and see the empty prairie fall away in a descent to the horizon some thirty miles away without a single other tree to break the view!

How easy it is to become so enclosed in a situation or in a thought that we lose track of the fact that where we are or what we think is a very small part of what makes up the rest of the world.

15th day -- Indian summer

The prairie is all about texture, and in November it's of the crunchy variety. The only soft note in this scene is the rather fuzzy weed stems in the foreground. Even the sky seems crisp with no fluffy white clouds.

If not for the sky, this photo would appear to be almost black and white, the tinges of green are so faint. But it is a lovely, dry Sunday afternoon which allows the farmers to be in their fields of milo or corn, and so it is a very good day. The harvest is late this year because of the unusual amount of moisture -- rain and snow -- with which we were blessed this fall.

We are experiencing the truest definition of an "Indian summer", an Americanism from the 1770s: a period of mild, dry weather, usually accompanied by a hazy atmosphere, occurring usually in late October or early November and following a period of colder weather. After being startled by the early cold weather, I have appreciated the mild Indian summer in both Colorado and Kansas.

14th day -- Yucca

There is just not much greenery on the plains of Wallace county Kansas in November, so this small yucca caught my attention. The long, sharp spikes show a bright contrast against the faded prairie earth and stubble.

This morning I took a short walk with my two grandsons, ages 5 and 4, and was prepared to capture interesting sights with my camera. But this afternoon at my oldest granddaughter's birthday party, I left my camera at her house to make a run down the road to check out a "monstrous" deer with some of the avid hunters in the family. I don't mind the fact that I did not get a picture of the huge buck, but I am very disappointed that I missed out on one of the most interesting cloud formations I have ever seen in my life. At least a dozen small clumps of clouds trailed streaming wisps beneath them so that their shapes all resembled jellyfish floating through the sky. If I had seen a painting of them, I would have said that the scene was fake.

People who travel through Kansas generally remark about how dull the scenery is. But even on a very typical day such as today, I find that there is always something worthy to see, either on the ground or in the sky. The finding it is all.

13th day -- Prairie peaks

A prairie sunset on a cloudy evening is always a spectacular sight. I would like to claim this as a Kansas sunset, but I was actually just a few miles west into Colorado, just east of Cheyenne Wells. A lot of visitors expect to see mountains the moment they cross the state line from Kansas to Colorado and are quite disappointed when they must travel nearly two more hours to get their first glimpse of the peaks far off in the distance.

So for those who want to see Colorado peaks near the Kansas border, I positioned the silhouette of the grain bins rising above the prairie. All in all, I would say that the effect is as captivating as some mountain scenes. It is sometimes disappointing that sunsets last less than thirty minutes, but it is also this ephemeral nature that makes them so special. And even though a beautiful prairie sunset occurs almost every evening, each one is different from any other. As a person who appreciates fine art, I often find myself saying, "Wow, God, nice job!"

12th day -- Planned-over Pasta

This day's blog will not pretend to be edifying or encouraging or anything else that seems to hint of merit. This day I am just filling a blank sheet to keep up with my goal of submitting a photo and writing a bit. "You hit what you aim for," and I'm aiming low tonight.

So what's in the photo? A jar. What's in the jar? Left-over pasta wheels -- piccolini. Actually, twice left-over. They were delicious both times, and they will probably be delicious again tomorrow when I polish them off at lunch -- or maybe breakfast. I'll have them smothered in left-over Ragu marinara which is stored in a jar right beside this pasta. I think I agree with my cousin Mike who avers that such menus as this are "planned overs" rather than "left overs." Quite right! I made a big batch of the pasta with the distinct purpose of not having to cook for a meal or two.

I really should express some sentiment about the food itself. Pasta. In the bread family, which makes it a part of "the staff of life." Rather than a staff, this particular jar should be holding a scepter, dressed as it is with a silver cape and a golden crown. Queen of the second shelf, reigning over -- hey! why do I have two half-full jars of Miracle Whip in here? Do I dare combine them? Can I tell which one is older? They're probably both past their "use by" dates.

It's a good thing my daughter doesn't have time to read my blog or she would chide me once again for the contents of my refrigerator. And rightly so. But not to worry about Queen Piccolini. The doughy little circles will not go the way of last month's package of honey ham which swelled to the point of bursting nor the cold, withered French fries still enclosed in their fast-food box. No, these little morsels will not see the slimy insides of my garbage disposal because I had the foresight to spoon them into a container that makes them entirely visible so that they do not get lost in the shuffle of opaque plastic tubs serving as storage.

With that assurance, I will sign off this post. It's late now, and I have the urge to clean my refrigerator.

11th day -- Blisters and rattlesnakes

I don't believe the sky today could have been a more brilliant true blue and the icy air was crisp to the point of cracking. To use a cliche', it was a perfect autumn day. I had not planned a trip to the park, but that spontaneous decision proved to be productive: my grandson acquired greater proficiency on his week-old training bike (see day 5), and I took not only the photo for this blog but also a short trip down memory lane.

I can never see honey locust seed pods such as these, either ripe or green, without remembering back into the days I spent with neighborhood kids playing in our backyard. Our neighbors had a huge, thorny locust tree, many of whose branches reached out over our yard, providing not only shade but also baskets full of twisted seed pods. Some of the pods met their ends when we kids would pluck them from the branches, still in their green stage, and pick the soft seeds from their pods just like shelling peas. Then we would carefully remove the first waxy layer from the seeds and split it in half lengthwise. When we stuck the translucent, dome-shaped pieces onto our fingers and the pads of our palms, it appeared as if we had magnificent blisters that even felt like real skin.

A few weeks later we could mimic the sound of rattlesnakes by shivering the now-hardened seeds inside their long, curvy dried pods. And if we felt impish, or even down-right mean, those large hard seeds made great ammunition for sling-shots and blow guns.

Today I would display the deep maroon pods only for decoration in wreaths and centerpieces -- creations for admiration and memories.

10th day -- Grandma's Flower Garden

There is absolutely nothing spectacular about this photograph of my quilt. As quilts go, there is probably nothing spectacular that would set this one apart from other well-made beautiful quilts. But I still want to memorialize this quilt by sharing it with the world, via the internet.

Eighteen years ago in 1991, my dad asked each of us four kids to select a quilt pattern that we would like to have made. He said that since Grandma was no longer with us (she had passed away just over thirty years earlier) he had asked the next closest quilter to Grandma that he could find to make each of us a quilt. That person was Lydia Scott, a woman in her mid-to-late seventies at the time, who could still remember gathering with Grandma and other women to put quilts together.

For my quilt I chose this particular pattern, called "Grandma's Flower Garden", as much for its name as for its beautiful appearance. Mrs. Scott said that I was the first person ever to request that she stitch her name and date onto the finished piece. She "wrote" her first name with a pale blue-grey thread but had to finish the rest with a bright blue color. That little "flaw" makes the quilt even more personal. Yet even though her name is on it, every time I glance at "Grandma's Flower Garden" on my bed I think of Grandma.

My grandmother Frazier was a marvelous seamstress herself and could create anything without using a pattern, it seemed to me. We would visit her little white adobe house quite frequently, and her kitchen table was often covered with her sewing machine and her latest project. Before she got an electric Singer, she would let my sisters and I sit at her feet and push the foot boards on her old treadle machine.

I love being surrounded with reminders of my family -- antiques from my ancestors and personal gifts from my children and grandchildren. Each item is unique like a flower in a garden, and the fragrance of the memories they evoke make me feel warm and secure -- just like being tucked under a lovely, handmade quilt.

9th day -- Jesus on the Dark Side

I went to a Tupperware party tonight at a church a few blocks away here in Colorado Springs. I can't even tell you the name or denomination. But it sits half a block south of a busy street, so I have never noticed it before.

The most prominent feature of the structure is the bell tower positioned over the main entry which we entered when we arrived. Spot lights drew my eyes upward, and I knew the instant I saw it that I wanted to take a picture of it for my blog tonight. But when we departed from the church, we went out a door a little more to the west of the bell tower, and we were on the dark side of the structure. No special lighting was focused to illuminate the back side, but I realized that this was the more dramatic view. When I got home, I grabbed my camera and headed back to the now-empty church.

If you have scrolled down to see both pictures by now, then you already know what I am about to point out to you. It's amazing what the eyes do not see until a photograph reveals it to them. On the lighted side of the bell tower, the great bells seem to proudly show their golden color. However, the artificial light which is focused on the bells obscures the most important feature which the bells themselves are intended to proclaim. The flash from my camera did not even penetrate upward through the spotlights on the ground whose glare fell short of what should have been their true aim.

But on the dark side of the tower, the important element is predominant! Jesus is on the dark side! How true to life this is! Jesus can be lost amidst lights and clamor to which we pay our attention. We focus on the wrong things. But when we are in the dark, Jesus reveals himself in true perspective. He is there all along, waiting for us to notice Him. (If you double click on the first photo and hold your computer screen just right, you can see the cross.)

It is scary being on the dark side -- I was even wary of going on that side to do the photographs at first. I liked the security of the bright lights on the east side. But once I looked up and clearly saw the cross, I was immediately relaxed. When I aimed my flash upward toward the cross which I knew stood in the dark, it was there, clearly illuminated by my small searching light, standing in strong contrast to the cloudy night and dominating the bells which hang in mute submission.

I had not been overly excited to attend yet another Tupperware party. I've been to dozens over the years, and this was my second one in two weeks. I will probably find myself sitting at a few dozen more in the years ahead. And I'll bet that each one will remind me of this very special Tupperware party at the church where I saw Jesus on the dark side.

8th day -- Not a good time

BUMMER! This is one of the special days I await all year long, and today I blew it!! I forgot to set my clocks back one hour before I went to bed last night, so this morning -- when I could have slept in one extra hour -- I got up even earlier than usual so that I would not be so last-minute in getting to church. At least my daughter alerted me to the situation before I grabbed my grandson and dashed out the door. As it was, we used the free hour to enjoy a breakfast at Waffle House. Yum.

We've lived with the Daylight Savings Time ruse since the Nixon era now, and a person has to wonder if anything or anyone has benefited from it. I wondered if the Waffle House staff on the early morning shift got gypped an hour's wages. Surely somebody somewhere is on either the losing or the winning end of the stick here because it's just not like typical government to be able to mess with something as monumental as timing the movement of the sun without messing several people up.

Well, my morning was salvaged, but please, someone, give me a call next year so that I don't miss out on this special government treat. And now, since it's really an hour later than my clock says it is, I'm heading to bed so that I can try to acclimate my body's clock to the new time.