The forecast for today is almost-balmy. 67 degrees on February 10 is like Los Angeles weather. In fact it seems odd that the recent mildness hasn't set off my nostalgia, but I'm starting to suspect that my nostalgia is one of the things that burned up in the fire. We'll have to see what Thursday's rain does. Maybe it will rinse a few of the accumulated cobwebs from my brain.
When I went to fetch the wheelie bin Tuesday evening I noticed something very strange. I stopped at my mailbox, and there seemed to be something out of place, and I realized that the mailbox for the front apartment— which is still vacant— had been removed. I don't know if it met with some accident or if it has been taken down deliberately. Perhaps I should call the property manager to see what's up, assuming they even know about it. I'd actually be quite pleased if they'd take them all down and replace them with normal mailboxes, as the top-loaders we've got are not appropriate to their location high up on a fence.
It's time to head for bed. As I said I haven't been feeling very good lately, and it's sometimes difficult to get to sleep, so I like to have a long lead time in which to get relaxed. If I start unwinding now I should be able to get to sleep by five o'clock again. It would be nice to have my old schedule back again, but this is probably just a fluke. I'll take it though, as long as it lasts.