The sun runs and hides around the side of the building for about 3 months in winter. I didn’t know that happened until Covid happened, and I spent all winter in The Old Bat’s Cave. For some of those months, the sun never makes it in my windows. I hate it. I feel like some primitive cave woman, rejoicing when the sun once again enters my den.
The watch nagged me to get more aerobic exercise than I consider reasonable. But, just in case, it is right about the amount of aerobic exercise I need, I walk one mile briskly to the grocery and back less briskly for sure but with a backpack of groceries. I consider it practice for Hawai’i. The nearest grocery will be .6 miles away from this winter’s lodgings. There is a mediocre farm market very near by however.
The last wreath is supposed to be bats. At least, I’m folding bats right now. But I could always make black cranes and keep the theme going. Bats are easier — and frankly, I’m tired of the whole project.