Crown Molding.

Though somebody down the street is doing something motorized -- pressure washing? paving? -- all is glorious, if globally warmed, here on the porch at 709. The dog and I are sitting in the lees of last night's sawdust and wood chips from all the sanding and sawing and, oh, yes, friends and fans of fancy joinery, coping. It is 57 degrees. It is 10:30 in the morning. It is February 10.

Th ground's wet, but we're not showing any measurable precip here at ANYLF Carbon Footprint HQ. We're some combination of sunny and hazy. If I didn't know any better I'd say that whatever we had overnight and early morning is still in the last throes of burning off. The transplanted bluebells look, from here, anyway, to have survived. Jury still out on the azaleas. Pressure-paving activities have ceased for now. The beagle down the street is barking some, but not enough to vex. More low cloud coming by. Birds. Coffee. Tuesday.