I got all the coffee shipping done early in the day. It was only ten orders, but it was a massive effort. I think it’ll be worth about four hundred to me, and that of course is gross not net–whatever the actual profit is for this round, it won’t even cover the cost of the roaster, much less the legal and web setup, the bags, the labels, the actual green beans! … but next time the effort won’t be so massive. Because: I’ve learned, and I will keep learning. The Chiapas Gold. The fine Peruvian. Make tonight a wonderful thing.

Then, realizing that this would be the ONLY sunny afternoon for the rest of the year, I went for changing a pickup tire, which was flat by the time I got it home from Flag like a week ago. Ten days maybe … it was a dark time lacking in specificity, except for yesterday and today.

I shoved myself under the truck to retrieve the spare and worked the hook that keeps it held up back and forth, clockwise and counter, and neither way felt right. I turned to the Internets for assistance and I found this. I won’t bore you. But I will say that my 25 year old truck is a wizened Cadillac. The tire virtually brought itself down, automagically, and I used the jack that had been hiding in its own special case under the passenger seat all along, maybe even for the whole 25. I had time before the sun went down to fill fluids on both the truck and the van.

Then I mostly settled in for a low slow solstice evening, with some cat wrangling, with a few more roasts for hand delivery on the next trip, Sunday. Van needs gas. Make a note.

Okay. Two more days and two huge important jobs to go before that other-people holiday. Plus finessing the January bills somehow. Plus … It’ll be alright. The sun will return and I am the son, and the heir of nothing, in particular and Johnny don’t need no dweeb-ass cryptocuck neocon Morrissey no how, not to write it not to play it not to sing it, either.