Dear John,
Today was mostly a rest day. I've been hurting a lot since the snow and the cold arrived - since it became February - so I took my day off to be off. Except for this morning.
I took Maggie in early to get her sutures removed. I thought I was going to have to call June and cancel and take the sutures out myself, which wouldn't be a problem since I've removed nobody-knows-how-many sutures over the years. But the roads were manageable. I was also supposed to take in a stool sample from Jethro, which caused all kinds of difficulties.
We got about four inches of new snow last night, so any existing Jethro-poop was buried. He went out at 3:00 this morning and then refused to go out after I got up. The temperature was below zero, but I've never had him refuse to go out first thing in the morning. So I put on my coat and boots, and got him to go out with me. He immediately peed - on my boxwood, of course - but wouldn't poop. I went out into two feet of snow to see if I could find any from yesterday, getting my jeans wet and my boots filled with snow. He went with me and romped and played, then yelped and started limping. So I brought him back inside and checked out that leg. He was fine and didn't limp again. But he never did poop for me.
I got Maggie into the carrier and headed off for Rome City. County Line Road wasn't bad, just snow-covered. But State Route 9 between Wolcottville and Rome City was a sheet of ice. There were two slide-offs, and the semi I was behind was going fifteen miles an hour, so you know it was bad. It was a good thing that I left plenty early. Maggie got de-sutured and given a clean bill of health, and we got home without incident.

As I drove into Wolcottville today I saw that sign that says "Reduced Speed Ahead," and I laughed at it like we always did. It sounds for all the world like Wolcottville is having a sale on amphetamines. So here's another funny sign for you to ponder. Of course, it's easy to solve. But I do love it. That's our kind of creativity. I miss laughing at things like that with you. We've always had the same sense of humor that enjoys the absurd; it's one thing I've always loved about you. I can't laugh with you now, but I think about you when I laugh at things without you. So that's the next best thing to laughing with you.
Missing our silliness,
Joan.
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