Borderline with Gary Borders

Friday at 7:45 a.m.

Each week Gary offers a variety of observations and personal experience in a highly engaging commentary from East Texas. Join us for Borderline with Gary Borders in his new time slot, Fridays at 7:45 a.m.

We ran the black walnut through the planer in the vacant parking lot of the nonprofit where I work. School was out, so the elementary campus across the street was empty. The likelihood of receiving a noise complaint was considerably less than if we planed in my backyard, as I did a few years ago. That was a mistake. From now on, I find a spot away from civilization.

Da Mimmo is a family-owned restaurant in Baltimore’s Little Italy, about eight square blocks packed with restaurants. My lunch partner chose it and ranks it at the top of Little Italy’s cuisine.

Gary Borders

’Twas a week before Christmas, and creatures were stirring throughout the neighborhood. This includes a mouse that seems to have taken up residence in the covered area that houses our HVAC units. My wife was enjoying a sunny afternoon when the little fellow stuck her head out between the bricks, which have a checkerboard design with square holes that are mouse-sized. Luckily, they are not squirrel-sized holes. We appear to be especially overrun with those large rodents this winter, likely because of a heavy harvest of acorns.

Today we mark a New Year. At my age, I’m never in a hurry for any of my allotted days to pass. But I can’t say I will miss 2015. Violence and misery cropped up far too often, both here and abroad. While I pray for a safer, more peaceful 2016, there is little reason right now to believe it will be. That is the sad truth.

And suddenly it is Christmas. It is rainy and will be in the 70s. Three years ago it snowed on Christmas Day, the first white Christmas here in many decades. This year, we will be wearing T-shirts and shorts. You never know what an East Texas winter will bring.

This can be a melancholy season. Many of us equate the Christmas season with tragedy and loss. We push through it and prevail. Everything usually turns out OK as families gather, a few empty seats at the table. But there is a tear in the fabric of our lives that cannot be mended.

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