I seem to recall from my WBLM “daze” (my misspelling) that Mercury retrograde, as advised by the “Cosmic Muffin,” was probably not the best time to hang the laundry out to dry. Don't ask me why, because I haven't a clue when it comes to astrology, or, for that matter, hanging clothes out to dry. The last time I tried to save a few nickels by not using the electric dryer, the clothesline broke under the weight of frozen personal items.

Recently, like this morning, I was informed that Mercury, indeed, once again, is retrograde. No worries, the laundry will remain inside on a clothes rack by the wood stove. I won't make the same mistake again, at least not until the next time. But, this Mercury thing. Jeez!

Normally, the first thing I try to do after a snow is fire up the Kubota and clear the roads here on Sunset Acres. But, today, I was urged to do otherwise. “It’s beautiful out there Mitchell,” sayeth my darling wife, “and you will regret not having any snow photos for next year's calendar.” This is completely true. Often, by the time I get all the roads cleaned up, the winds have blown all the snow out of the trees and clouds block the sun. So, off I went. And today's four hundredth view of Hendricks Head Light waddled into my periscope, right out of the box. I must photograph this view at least 20 times each winter in order to help me realize that there is no other place on Earth I would rather be. So there you have it. Mercury did not retrograde me yet. That would come later when I returned home.

The tractor battery was retrograde. Easy enough. Ignore it. Go like a good boy and download your article for the newspaper, then attend to the lack of power. Mercury struck my computer with a vengeance. The piece I had written, which I sent to myself (my first mistake) had vaporized, joining everything else I have lost to cyberspace. Elon Musk, where are you when I need you? All I was needing to do was transfer what I had written to a Word program on my office computer, add a photo and send everything to Kevin Burnham at the newspaper, which, even pre-retrograde, has gone completely wonky. My full size files were arriving with Kevin large enough to fit into the eye of a needle. Poor Kevin. He must shudder in horror anytime he sees my email land in his inbox.

Sorry Kev. You are part of a much larger problem.

So ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, my only hope is that today's photograph will have some redemptive power, and that something else will become retrograde so I can resume being a normal, well adjusted individual with a fully restored tractor battery and a small pension for my pygmy marmoset.

I'm going to do some laundry. Adios.